I never believed in fate until Kathy came along. Three months ago, she turned my life upside down, and after just a month, I proposed. Friends thought I’d lost it, but everything with her clicked—our love for skiing, sci-fi books, and the way we saw the world. It felt right, like the stars had lined up. Now I was on a plane to meet her parents, nervous as heck. Kathy had warned me about her dad, David—a tough guy who didn’t warm up easily but loved her to pieces. I had one chance to win him over, and I couldn’t blow it. I got to the airport way too early, so I wandered into a little coffee shop nearby to calm my jitters. The smell of coffee and chatter was a nice break from my racing thoughts. That’s when I saw him—a scruffy guy in worn-out clothes, asking people for spare change.
He shuffled over to my table, polite but shy, and asked if I could help him get a coffee. I almost said no—strangers asking for money always make me pause—but his quiet way got to me. “What kind do you want?” I asked. “Jamaican Blue Mountain,” he said, grinning like a kid. It was the fanciest thing on the menu, and I nearly laughed. “Why that one?” I pressed. “It’s my birthday,” he replied. “Always wanted to try it.” I could’ve brushed it off, but something told me to go for it. I bought him the coffee and threw in a slice of cake—birthdays deserve cake, right? I invited him to sit, and he did, holding that cup like it was gold. His name was David, and he told me how life had knocked him down—lost his job, his home, everything. His story hit me hard, and before I left, I slipped him $100. He tried to say no, but I insisted. I walked away feeling good, never expecting to see him again.
Boarding my first-class flight—Kathy’s treat to spoil me—I was still buzzing from that encounter. I settled into my window seat, sipping coffee and worrying about her dad, when someone sat next to me. I looked up, and my jaw dropped—it was him, the guy from the café, but now he was in a slick suit, looking sharp. “Mind if I sit?” he asked with a smirk. I stammered, “What’s going on?” He leaned back and said, “It’s a test.” A test? Then he dropped the bomb: “I’m David, Kathy’s dad.” My head spun. He’d pretended to be homeless to see what kind of guy I was when no one was watching. I’d passed part one, he said, but there was more. He handed me a notebook and a pen. “Write Kathy a letter—why you love her, why you want to marry her, how you’ll care for her.” I froze, but I wrote—pouring out how she lit up my life and how I’d always have her back. When I handed it over, he read it, smiled, and said, “You’re in. Welcome to the family.”
The flight landed, and we headed to Kathy’s parents’ place. Dinner was tense—her mom and siblings were warm, but David watched me like a hawk. I kept wondering if I’d really made the cut. After, he finally said, “You’ve shown me who you are, Jimmy. You’ve got my blessing.” Kathy squeezed my hand, beaming. Later, I found a coffee shop receipt on the counter—my $100 wasn’t for him; he’d donated it to the staff. Kathy grinned when I asked about it. “I told him your flight details,” she admitted. “It was our little plan.” I realized then I wasn’t just joining a family—they were teaching me what kindness and trust really mean.
