Jimmy was taken aback when the homeless man he’d bought coffee for earlier boarded the aeroplane and sat opposite him in first class. Who was he, and why did he want money in the first place?
I had never given any credence to fate until I met Kathy.
She entered my life three months ago and quickly became my universe. People labelled me crazy for proposing after only a month, but I couldn’t deny how everything came into place with her.
Our view on life, our passion of skiing, and even our obsession with science fiction books were all similar. The cosmos seemed to be whispering to me, “She’s the one.”
Now here I was, taking a plane to her parents’ first meeting.
Kathy alerted me to David, her father. She described him as a strict man who was difficult to get along with. However, she also maintained that he loved her more than anything else and had a decent heart.
To tell the truth, I was afraid. I didn’t want to ruin my one chance to show that I was deserving of his daughter.
I’d arrived at the airport too early, my nerves forcing me to leave home before it was time. To pass the time, I popped into a cosy small coffee shop across the street.
The bustle of conversation and the scent of freshly made coffee was a pleasant respite from the ideas running about in my brain. That is when I spotted him.
The guy stumbled in, wearing shabby clothing. His face was wrinkled, indicating that he had worked hard throughout his life. His shoulders stooped slightly, and his tired eyes darted about the room, as if looking for something.
I observed him visit a couple tables and talk quietly to the individuals sitting there.
Most folks shook their heads, avoided eye contact, or made an embarrassed apologies. Then he stopped in front of my table.
“Excuse me,” he gently said. “Could you spare some change? “Just enough for a coffee.”
I paused. My initial thought was to decline. Not because I didn’t care, but because I was not sure how much to believe him. Some folks are sincere, while others are only searching for assistance.
But something about him felt unusual. He wasn’t aggressive and seemed uncomfortable to be asking.
“What type of coffee do you want?” I asked you.
“Jamaican Blue Mountain,” he said, almost shyly. “I have heard it is really good.”
I nearly laughed. It was the most expensive choice on the menu. For a second, I assumed he was joking. But the way he stared at me prompted me to halt.
“Why that one?” I enquired.
“It’s my birthday,” he said, smiling. “I’ve always wanted to try it. Figured, why not today?”
Part of me wanted to roll my eyes.
Sure, I assumed it was your birthday.
But another part of me chose to believe him.
“Alright,” I responded, rising up. “Let’s get you that coffee.”
His face brightened with a genuine smile. “Thank you,” he responded.
I didn’t simply buy him coffee, though. I included a slice of cake with the order because, really, what is a birthday without cake?
When I handed him the tray, I indicated the empty chair at my table.
“Sit,” I said. “Tell me your story.”
He paused for a while, as if unsure whether I was serious.
But then he sat down, holding the coffee cup as if it were sacred. And he started talking.
His name was David, and he had lost everything years before, losing his family, work, and even his house. Betrayal and ill luck had played their roles, but he made no excuses.
He talked clearly, with a raw honesty that made it difficult not to listen.
I understood as I sat there that this was more than simply a man seeking assistance. Life had broken this person, yet they had persevered.
I couldn’t quite swallow the lump in my throat that had formed by the time he had concluded his story. He attempted to reject the $100 I gave him before I left.
I said to him, “Think of this as a gift from my side, man.” “And happy birthday!”
I felt like I had done a modest, kind act for a stranger when I left that café. I never thought I would see him again. Or that a few hours later, he would completely upend my world.
As I sipped another cup of coffee in the first-class waiting area, the airport was humming with its typical pandemonium.
My anxiety over meeting Kathy’s parents had subsided a little, but I was still very much aware of her father. What if he wasn’t fond of me? What if he believed that I wasn’t suitable for her?
Kathy had already arrived at her parents’ house when I took up my phone to SMS her.
I wrote, I’m really anxious. What’s going on over there?
“It’s all right,” she replied via text. Dad will adore you, I’m sure of it.
I waited in queue and took a seat next to the window when the boarding call arrived.
Kathy encouraged that I treat myself for once, even though I felt like I didn’t deserve first class. I kept thinking about the man from the café as I buckled up and looked around. I was still thinking about his narrative.
With the $100 I had given him, I intended to brighten his birthday a bit.
I had hardly settled in when someone entered the aisle. I stared at his face and my heart almost stopped.
He was the one. The same guy from the coffee shop.
However, the frayed garments from before were no longer on him.
No, this man had a shiny watch on his wrist, his hair combed, and he wore a smart, fitted suit.
He noticed my eyes and smirked.
“Mind if I join you?” he offered casually, settling into the seat next to me.
I gazed, unable to absorb the scene in front of me. “What… what’s going on here?”
He leaned back with a sly smile on his face. “Let’s call it… a test.”
“A test?” I repeated. “What are you talking about?”
The man chuckled quietly as he pulled out a sleek notebook from his bag.
“Let me introduce myself properly. I’m David.” He paused, watching my reaction. “Kathy’s father.”
“Wait… you’re her dad?” I blurted out. “The one I’m flying out to meet?”
“The exact same,” he responded, still smirking. “You know, I’ve always believed in a hands-on approach. I wanted to discover who my daughter’s fiancé truly is, behind the polished dinner introductions and carefully scripted responses.”
I could not believe it. Why didn’t Kathy inform me about it? Was she part of the plan?
“So, this was all an act?” I asked.
“A necessary one,” he explained quietly. “It’s easy to be kind while everyone is looking. But I was curious how you’d treat a stranger, particularly one who appeared to have nothing to offer you. “It turns out you passed the first part.”
“The first part?” I echoed. “How many parts are there?”
He opened the notepad and gave me a pen. “Only one more. Write a letter to Kathy.
“A letter?”
“Yes,” he replied, sitting back in his seat. “Tell her why you love her, why you want to marry her, and how you plan to take care of her. Do not overthink it. “Be honest.”
I stared at the blank paper, and beads of sweat gathered on my temples. This was not what I had signed up for. But no matter how much I wanted to resist, I knew I couldn’t.
So I began writing.
Initially, the words came slowly, stumbling over ideas and feelings. But soon, the pen appeared to move on its own.
I wrote about how Kathy gave me a sense of fulfilment, how her laughter could lift my spirits on my worst days, and how I wanted to create a happy, trusting life with her.
My hand hurt at the end, but my heart felt lighter.
I was still unsure, though, if I would pass the test. What if this question was a trick? Could it be that David’s test was more complicated than it appeared?
I gave him the notepad, and he took a moment to study it. Then he grinned as he looked up.
His words were, “You passed,” “Welcome to the family.”
Hearing those words gave me such a sense of relief.
This man, who had just tested me in the most unexpected way, reached out his hand. I shook it hard, knowing I had overcome the final obstacle.
“Now, let’s see how well you do at home,” he told you.
When we eventually landed and disembarked, I was physically and psychologically tired. As we strolled through the terminal, I attempted to keep my breathing normal, hoping I had done enough to please him, but my nerves were shredding at the edges.
The journey to Kathy’s parents’ house was silent. She and her mother were waiting for us there.
Meanwhile, my mind was racing with anticipation for what the evening would hold. I wasn’t simply meeting her parents anymore. I’d passed the “test.” But what did that actually mean? Would David’s approval be sufficient? What would happen in their home?
When we arrived, Kathy’s mother, Susan, greeted us with warmth. Kathy’s brothers and sister were also there.
David, on the other hand, maintained his customary serious demeanour while looking across the table at me. I couldn’t tell if he was still evaluating me or just reserving judgement.
Dinner was an awkward affair, with everyone making polite talk while David sat back and observed things intently.
Every time I spoke, he would nod or grunt, never offering much in response. Kathy’s siblings were easygoing, but David’s stillness was nearly deafening.
I couldn’t help but question if I had actually passed.
As the lunch came to a close, David put his wine glass down and cleared his throat.
“You’ve done well, Jimmy,” he said. “You’ve shown me who you truly are.” That means something.
Kathy clasped my hand beneath the table.
“I’ve always known you were the right one for me,” she said quietly.
“I’ve seen enough to know he’ll take care of you,” he replied, smiling at his daughter. “You’ve got my blessing.”
At that point, I was overjoyed, but David’s expression conveyed something unspoken.
After dinner, Kathy and I helped her parents clean up, and I believed everything was in order.
That’s when I discovered a folded piece of paper on the counter.
As I unfolded it, I discovered that it was a receipt for a cup of coffee from the café I had visited earlier that morning. The one in which I met David.
However, the receipt did not include the coffee I ordered for David. There was an extra price at the bottom.
“Extra donation — $100.”
I turned to Kathy after picking it up.
“What’s this?” I questioned her.
“Oh, that’s my dad’s way of tying up loose ends.”
Confused, I scowled. “Loose ends?”
Her eyes were sparkling as she leaned on the counter. “Remember that you gave him $100 in the café? He lost it. After you left, he gave it to the café employees and instructed them to count it as an additional donation.
“How do you know that, too? Were you aware of his scheme from the beginning? Did you participate in it?
She flashed me a sneaky smile.
“Well, I was,” she said. “You didn’t believe it was only about the coffee, did you? And how do you believe Dad learnt about your flight? Of course, that was me, Jimmy.
At that time, I realised I was not marrying into a traditional family. These folks were extraordinary, and they wanted me to understand the value of charity. And what it meant to be a member of this family.
If you liked this tale, here’s another one you might enjoy: On Christmas Eve, I felt I was performing a nice thing by taking in a young guy who was suffering from the cold.She flashed me a sneaky smile.
But later that night, I awoke to find him in my doorway, and I gasped when I saw what he was holding.
This work is based on actual events and persons, however it has been fictionalised for artistic reasons. Names, personalities, and facts have been altered to protect privacy and improve the story. Any similarity to genuine people, alive or dead, or actual events is entirely coincidental and not the author’s intention.
The author and publisher make no claims about the veracity of events or character representation, and they are not responsible for any misinterpretation. This story is offered “as is,” and any opinions stated are those of the characters, not the author or publisher.