It had been taken when Eddie was three, just before his father left them. Mass had refused to let him have it in the living room, and Eddie looked at it every night before he went to sleep. Only now it was morning. He sat up in bed and took the picture down. It had been taken on a warm day and they were both wearing summer clothes. His father was holding Eddie tightly in his strong arms. Thick bangs fell over his forehead and his smile was broad and happy, whereas Eddie looked very serious. He stared at the photograph for a long time. Even though he had studied it countless times before, it was new for him each time. His father looked so happy, so why had he left them? He hung the picture back up on the wall and went into the living room. Soon after, his mother appeared in her nightie; he could see her body through the thin material. She checked the thermometer outside the window and shivered. “Twelve degrees,” she reported. “We’d better light the stove. Put your coat on; you’ll have to go out and get some wood.”
