Richard visits his daughter to celebrate his eightieth birthday with her, but she answers the door in tears and sends him away. Richard suspects trouble and realizes he’s right after peeking through her front windows.
Richard tapped his fingers nervously against the steering wheel as he drove. Deidre used to drive down every Thanksgiving, but that stopped after his wife’s funeral four years ago. Now, there were only weekly calls.
Richard spread his arms wide as Deidre appeared in the doorway. “Surprise!” he yelled.
“Dad? What are you doing here?” she asked, tears rolling down her cheeks.
“I came to celebrate my birthday with you…it’s the big eight-o!” Richard replied, but the joy in his voice trailed off quickly. “What’s wrong, honey? Why are you crying?”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
“It’s nothing; everything’s fine,” Deidre quickly wiped her tears and smiled a little. “I just…I wasn’t expecting you, and this isn’t really a good time. Sorry, Dad, but I, uh, need to focus. On my work. Look, I’ll call you. We’ll have dinner later, okay? Sorry.”
Deidre shut the door, leaving Richard hurt and confused. Something was terribly wrong. Was Deidre in trouble?
Richard stepped back from the front door but didn’t leave. He stepped over the short, flowering shrubs lining the path and snuck up to peek through the windows.
Two rough-looking men were in the sitting room with Deidre.
“Who was that?” One of them asked in a rough voice.
“Nobody,” Deidre lied in a shaky voice. “Just a neighbor’s kid…pulling a doorbell prank and running away.”
“Back to business then,” the second man said. “You’re now six months behind on your loan repayments, Deidre. Mr. Marco’s getting impatient.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
“I just need more time. Business is sure to pick up again in the winter,” she pleaded.
“Time is one thing you haven’t got, sweetie,” the man replied, pulling out his gun. “People who owe Mr. Marco money don’t have a great life expectancy and end up feeding the fishes in the lake…” He pointed the weapon at her.
Terror froze Richard in place. But soon, the man stepped back with a look of disgust and tucked the gun away in the waistband of his trousers.
“Look around this dump and see if there’s anything valuable we can take to Mr. Marco, Danny,” he ordered. “She’s a businesswoman, so there must be a computer or some kind of equipment around here.”
”But I need those things!” she cried. “I can’t make money without my equipment!”
The man patted the butt of his gun. ”Boo-Hoo. I can still change my mind, you know. Don’t be ungrateful, now.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
The men ransacked her home before they stormed out, leaving Deidre curled up sobbing on the floor.
Nothing made sense to Richard because Deidre’s business was doing well. At least that’s what she had told him. But now, Richard could sense something was amiss. Deidre needed his help.
The men loaded several appliances from Deidre’s home in their vehicle.
When they finally drove away, Richard followed them.
The men stopped at a two-storeyed brick building downtown that looked like a bar. While it was closed, the door was unlocked. No one on the staff stopped Richard as he entered the building.
The men had joined a large table where several other rough-looking men were seated. One of them stood and swaggered toward him.
“The club’s closed,” he growled. “Come back later.”
“I’m here to discuss Deidre’s debt,” Richard announced.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
“Oh?” The man seated at the head of the table rose and stared at Richard. He looked like a gentleman except for a nasty scar above his left eye. Richard guessed he was Mr. Marco.
”How much does she owe you?” Richard asked.
Mr. Marco smirked. “A good samaritan, huh? Deidre took out a business loan of $80,000 from me. She was supposed to pay me back from her monthly profits, only she never made any.”
”I have around $20,000 in my savings,” Richard gulped fearfully, shaken Deidre had borrowed such a big sum.
”That’s only a quarter of what she owes us.” Mr. Marco sighed. “But there’s something you can do to make up the difference.”
Richard didn’t like the sound of that, but he had to do whatever it took to save his daughter from the mess she’d gotten herself into.
”What do you want me to do?” he asked.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
Mr. Marco grinned at Richard and beckoned him closer to the table.
”My partner and I recently started a small business importing cars to Canada, but some of the paperwork has been delayed, so we’re having difficulties getting the…’merchandise’…across the border. A kind, innocent-looking Grandpa like you should have no trouble crossing the border in one of our cars.”
Richard had no choice but to agree. Later that night, he pulled into a gas station near the border town to use the bathroom and parked beside a patrol.
“Jesus!” he gasped as the German Shepherd in the back of the police cruiser began barking at him and pawing at the window.
Service dogs were trained not to bark at random people unless…Oh, man.
He quickly climbed back in the car, a Valiant, and started reversing as the police dog went crazy.
Two cops hurried out of the gas station store and yelled at him to stop as they glanced at him. The GPS app voiced directions, but Richard shoved it in his pocket to silence the darn thing.
He pushed the Valiant to its limits as he wove through traffic, leaving a trail of outraged drivers and narrowly avoided collisions in his wake. The sirens blared behind him.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
Richard soon spotted a narrow, unmarked dirt road veering into the forest ahead. He sharply turned, leaving the road behind him as he raced into the forest. The muddy trails were awful to navigate, but Richard pushed on.
He turned down a narrow track leading downhill. Then, he turned up a slight rise and instantly regretted it.
The car was now stuck in a precarious position, balanced on a narrow rise above a wide river. Richard tried to reverse back the way he came, but the tires spun without getting traction.
In fact, the car was sliding closer to the water.
“No!” Richard desperately pulled up the parking brake, but it didn’t work.
The car’s nose hit the river with a loud splash, sending a wave of dark water flooding over the bonnet. Richard shoved the car door open, desperate to escape the sinking vehicle.
The pressure from the water started to push the car door shut against Richard’s legs. Richard splashed around in panic as the river filled the interior.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
As the water level crept up his face, he tipped his head back, took one last breath, and pulled himself underwater.
Richard squeezed himself out of the opening and pushed himself up toward the surface. He took in a lungful of air and swam toward the river bank.
Reaching land made Richard realize how close he was to death. He was thankfully breathing. But he still needed to do something about the $80,000. So Richard hitchhiked home.
”I need to mortgage my house,” he told the bank assistant. ”And I need the cash in my bank account fast.”
Richard waited impatiently as the bank employee processed the paperwork. He jumped in fright when Deidre called him.
“Some thugs from a local gang were just here asking about you, Dad…what is happening?”
“Tell them I’ll be there soon. I arranged to pay off your debt for you. I don’t understand why you didn’t come to me first, Deidre, but this isn’t the time to discuss that.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
Richard ended the call and signed the paperwork. He didn’t want to give up the home where he had created memories with his family, but it was the only way to help Deidre.
A few hours later, he pulled into the club’s parking lot in a rented car and headed toward the entrance.
”Dad, wait!” Richard looked back as Deidre ran toward him.
”I won’t let you face those thugs alone,” she said. ”I still don’t understand how you found out about this mess or how you got the money to repay them, but the least I can do is stand by you while you save me.”
Richard studied the determined look in Deidre’s eyes and knew he couldn’t convince her to leave. As they entered the club, the thugs herded him and Deidre toward the table.
Richard placed his duffel bag, which contained the cash he’d withdrawn after the mortgage went through, and put it on the table.
”Here’s the $80,000 Deidre owed you plus another $15,000 to cover the cost of your car. I, uh, got into some trouble, and the car ended up in a river.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
Mr. Marco’s mouth twisted angrily, and he thumped his fist against the table.
“You have the audacity to offer me a measly $15,000? After you come in here and tell me you sank the $100,000 shipment hidden in that car? That doesn’t even BEGIN to cover what you now owe me.”
The gangster grabbed the duffel bag and threw it to one of his thugs.
”You know, Deidre, I really believed in you, but sometimes, in business, you’ve got to know when to cut your losses.”
He removed a gun from his suit jacket and pointed it straight at Deidre’s forehead.
Richard pulled Deidre behind him. “No, please! This is all my fault! Don’t punish her!”
”Well, you made a good point.” The gangster shrugged, and the next moment, Richard was staring down the gun barrel.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
But suddenly, they heard police sirens outside.
Mr. Marco turned and ran toward the back of the club as loud gunfire boomed and shook the place.
Father and daughter crawled under the table. There was chaos in the club, and as Richard looked into his daughter’s fear-filled eyes, he knew he had to get her to safety, no matter what.
Richard and Deidre pulled one of the tables over and barricaded themselves in a corner. They hid there until the police escorted them to safety. Thankfully, Mr. Marco was apprehended.
”Are you certain you don’t have any heart-related health issues?” Richard shook his head at the paramedic while in the ambulance.
Richard swallowed hard when the police detective approached the ambulance.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
“Sir, what were you and your daughter doing in this club today?” the detective asked sternly.
Richard explained about Deidre’s loan and how they’d come to the club that day to repay it. He hoped he might get away with not mentioning the car he sank in the river.
The detective glanced at Deidre. “If we hadn’t found a car full of contraband in the river, we wouldn’t have been here to rescue you. You shouldn’t be taking loans from such disreputable people, miss.”
“A car in the river?” Richard asked nervously.
“It was registered to Mr. Marco’s cousin, which was exactly the lede we needed to take this gang down,” replied the officer.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
Richard sighed in relief. He was in the clear.
The cops let him and Deidre go once they provided their statements.
”I owe you a huge apology, Dad. I dragged you into this whole mess,” Deidre apologized as they walked to the front, where Richard’s car was parked.
Tears filled her eyes. “I didn’t know how to tell you. How does anyone tell their father that they’re a huge failure?”
“You are not a failure!” Richard put his hands on Deidre’s shoulders. ”Maybe your business idea didn’t work out as well as you’d hoped, but you tried, Deidre. I wish you’d felt comfortable enough to tell me what was really going on in your life. Heck, I just wish you felt you could be as close with me as you were with your mother,” he continued. ”I don’t think you’ve been ‘fine’ for quite a while now.”
Deidre burst into tears, and Richard put an arm around her. “It’s okay, honey,” he whispered soothingly. “Everything’s going to be okay.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
Tell us what you think about this story, and share it with your friends. It might brighten their day and inspire them.
If you enjoyed this story, you might like this one about a woman who spots her husband taking his wedding ring off before leaving for work. She decides to follow him, only to discover something shocking.
I Paid a Fortune Teller’s Bus Fare – The Note She Slipped Me Uncovered a Terrible Secret
Single dad Daniel’s quiet morning with his sick little son took an unexpected turn when he helped an elderly woman on the bus. The lady was a fortune teller and slipped a cryptic note into his hand. Daniel accepted it, unaware that her parting words would soon haunt him in ways he never imagined.
It was one of those gray mornings in California, the kind that makes you feel like the universe hit snooze and forgot to wake up. My one-year-old son, Jamie, was strapped in his stroller, his tiny breaths fogging the clear plastic cover. He’d been burning up with a fever all night, and every little whimper had cut through me like glass.
A baby boy in a stroller | Source: Midjourney
I shoved a pacifier into his hand and double-checked the diaper bag slung over my shoulder. Formula? Check. Spare clothes? Check. An exhausted father running on caffeine and prayer? Also, check.
Parenting solo wasn’t the life I’d envisioned. My wife Paulina had been my everything, and when she passed during childbirth, it felt like the air had been sucked out of my world. But Jamie was my anchor now, and every step I took was for him.
“Almost there, buddy,” I murmured, adjusting his blanket. “We’ll get you feeling better soon, I promise.”
I touched his forehead gently, remembering the sleepless night before. “Your mama would know exactly what to do right now,” I whispered, my voice catching.
A man pushing a baby stroller | Source: Pexels
The bus screeched to a halt, and I hauled the stroller up with one hand, gripping the railing for balance.
“Let’s go, man! People got places to be!” the driver snapped.
“My son’s sick,” I shot back, struggling with the stroller. “Just give me a second.”
“Whatever, just hurry it up.”
I bit back a stronger reply, settling Jamie into the corner. The bus wasn’t crowded… just a few commuters with headphones or half-open newspapers.
At the next stop, she got on.
Likely in her 70s, the lady looked out of place. Layers of flowing skirts draped around her fragile body, a scarf tied tightly over her head, and silver bangles jingled on her wrists. Her dark, kohl-lined eyes darted around nervously as she rummaged through an old leather purse.
An older lady in a colorful costume | Source: Midjourney
“I don’t have enough for the fare,” she told the driver, her voice low and tinged with an accent I couldn’t place.
He scowled. “LADY, I’M NOT RUNNING A CHARITY. IF YOU DON’T HAVE THE MONEY, YOU CAN WALK. Pay or get off.”
She hesitated, looking visibly flustered. “Please. My name is Miss Moonshadow. I’ll read your fortune for free. Just let me ride.” Her hands trembled as she held them out. “Please, I… I need to get somewhere urgently.”
The driver rolled his eyes. “I don’t want any of that mumbo jumbo. Pay or walk.”
Her face flushed, and she looked over her shoulder, her gaze catching mine for just a second before darting away. There was fear there, raw and real. And something else I couldn’t quite place.
“Hey! If you can’t pay, get off the bus already!” the driver barked, his voice sharp enough to make her flinch.
An anxious older lady in the bus | Source: Midjourney
That was enough. And I stood up. “I’ve got it,” I said, digging into my pocket. “Let her take the ride.”
The driver muttered something under his breath as I handed over a couple of bills.
The woman turned to me, her eyes meeting mine with a weight I couldn’t quite place. “Thank you,” she said softly. “You didn’t have to. You have enough burden already, I can see it in your eyes.”
“It’s nothing,” I said, brushing it off. “We all need help sometimes.”
Miss Moonshadow took a seat near the back, but I could feel her gaze following me. Jamie stirred in his stroller, and I leaned down to soothe him, my hand brushing his fever-warmed cheek.
“Shhh, it’s okay, little man,” I whispered. “Daddy’s got you.”
A sad man sitting in a bus | Source: Midjourney
When my stop came, I maneuvered Jamie’s stroller toward the door. As I passed her, Miss Moonshadow reached out, her bangle-covered hand gripping my arm with startling firmness.
“Wait, here,” she said, pressing a small folded note into my palm.
“What’s this?” I asked, confused.
Her voice dropped to a whisper. “YOU’LL NEED IT. Trust me. Sometimes, the truth hurts before it heals.”
The driver barked for me to hurry up, and I nodded stiffly, stepping off the bus. The paper felt strangely heavy in my pocket, but I ignored it, although I was puzzled.
A man holding a small piece of paper | Source: Midjourney
The pediatrician’s waiting room was a blend of crying babies and exhausted parents when I arrived. I kept my eyes on Jamie, who had fallen asleep again in his stroller, his feverish little face looked smaller than usual.
“Mr. Daniel?” the nurse called.
“That’s us,” I said, standing. “Come on, buddy. Let’s get you checked out.”
The nurse stepped out and announced that Jamie was next, adding that the doctor would see him in five minutes. I sank into a chair in the waiting room, my exhaustion catching up to me. Almost without thinking, my hand drifted to the note in my pocket. I pulled it out, smoothing the creases before unfolding it.
The words hit me like a slap:
“HE’S NOT YOUR SON.”
A shocked man in a hospital | Source: Midjourney
I blinked, reading it again. Then again. My pulse roared in my ears, and I stuffed the note back into my pocket like it might burn me.
“Mr. Daniel?” the nurse called again. “The doctor’s ready.”
Jamie stirred, his little fists opening and closing. I reached out, brushing his cheek with my thumb. He was so real and so undeniably mine. The note was a lie. It had to be.
“He’s got your eyes,” the nurse kindly said as she led us to the exam room.
I forced a smile, but the words felt like daggers. Still, the note’s message clung to me like smoke, filling every corner of my mind with doubt.
A man lost in deep thought | Source: Midjourney
The cryptic message haunted me for days. I kept telling myself it was nonsense and didn’t mean anything. But every time Jamie giggled or looked up at me with Paulina’s eyes, the doubt crept back in.
Then, one night, I caved. I ordered a DNA test online, the guilt swirling in my gut even as I clicked “confirm purchase.”
“What am I doing?” I whispered to myself, staring at the confirmation email. “This is crazy. This is absolutely —”
Jamie’s cry interrupted my thoughts. I found him standing in his crib, his arms raised.
“Da-da,” he whimpered, reaching for me.
A man using a laptop | Source: Midjourney
I scooped him up, holding him close. “I’m here, buddy. I’m here.”
More than anything, I wished the DNA results would prove what I already felt in my heart — that Jamie was mine, that he belonged to me as much as I belonged to him.
I took the test, and the results came a week later. The envelope sat on the kitchen counter, unopened. Jamie babbled from his high chair, smearing pureed carrots across his tray.
“Alright,” I muttered to myself, ripping the envelope open.
The first thing I saw was the word “inconclusive.” Then, I found the part that mattered.
Jamie WASN’T mine.
I sank to the floor, the paper crumpling in my fist. “No,” I whispered. “No, no, no…”
“Da-da!” Jamie called out cheerfully, oblivious to my world crumbling.
A man shaken to his core | Source: Midjourney
I drove to Paulina’s mom’s house that evening, gripping the DNA results like they might dissolve if I let go. She answered the door with a warm smile, but it vanished when she saw my face.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, stepping aside to let me in.
I didn’t bother with pleasantries. I dropped the paper onto the coffee table. “Did you know?”
Her eyes flicked to the document, then back to me. “Daniel, I —”
“DID YOU KNOW, JOYCE?” I snapped.
Tears welled up in her eyes, and she sank into the couch. “She told me,” she whispered.
The words felt like a punch to the stomach. I stumbled backward, gripping the wall for support.
A disheartened older woman | Source: Midjourney
“My daughter… she made a huge mistake,” she continued. “One night. It was a stupid night at a work party. She wasn’t sure, Daniel. She wasn’t sure if the baby was yours. She was so scared. She begged me not to tell you.”
“So you BOTH lied to me?” I exploded. “Every day, every moment… it was all a LIE?”
“Daniel, please —”
“I held her hand when she died!” My voice broke. “I watched her slip away, promising I’d take care of our baby. OUR baby! And you knew? You knew all along?”
“She wanted to tell you,” Joyce sobbed. “The night before… before everything happened. She said she couldn’t bear it anymore. But then —”
“Then she died,” I finished, my voice hollow. “And you still said nothing.”
An emotional man with his eyes downcast | Source: Midjourney
“She loved you,” Joyce added, tears streaming down her face. “She loved you so much, Daniel. She was scared, but that doesn’t mean she didn’t love you.”
“Love?” I laughed bitterly. “Love isn’t lies. Love isn’t —” I choked on the words. “Every time you looked at Jamie, every time you held him… you knew.”
“He’s still your son,” she whispered. “And you’re the only father he’s ever known.”
“I can’t…” I shook my head. “I can’t even look at you right now.”
I left without saying another word, her sobs following me out the door.
A man walking away | Source: Midjourney
That night, I sat by Jamie’s crib, watching him sleep. His chest rose and fell in rhythm, and his tiny hand curled around his favorite blanket. The moon cast shadows through the window, and I remembered all the nights I’d spent here, singing lullabies, wiping tears, changing diapers, and fighting fevers.
“Who am I to you?” I whispered. “Am I just some stranger who…”
“Da-da!” Jamie stirred in his sleep, his little face scrunching up before relaxing again. I reached down, touching his hand, and his fingers automatically wrapped around mine.
I thought about Paulina — her laugh, smile, and how she used to hum when she cooked. The betrayal cut deep, but so did the memory of her last moments and the way she’d looked at me with such trust and love.
A heartbroken man lost in deep thought | Source: Midjourney
“Your mama made mistakes,” I whispered to Jamie. “Big ones. And right now, I don’t know how to forgive her.”
Jamie sighed in his sleep, still holding my finger.
“But you,” I continued, tears falling freely now, “you’re innocent in all this. You didn’t ask for any of it. And this past year…” My voice caught. “Every diaper I’ve changed, every fever I’ve fought, every smile, every tear, and every moment… they’re real. They’re OURS.”
The anger and betrayal still simmered, but they couldn’t touch the love I felt when I looked at him. This little boy had become my whole world and given me purpose when I thought I had none left.
A baby fast asleep | Source: Midjourney
“Hey, buddy,” I whispered, brushing a curl from his forehead. “You’re stuck with me, okay? No matter what. Because being a father… it’s not about blood. It’s about every sleepless night, every worried moment, and every celebration. It’s about choice. And I choose you. I’ll always choose you.”
Jamie stirred, his lips curving into a tiny smile.
This little miracle wasn’t my son by blood, but that didn’t matter. He was mine in every way that counted and in all the ways that truly mattered. And that was enough, more than enough.
As I watched my son sleep, I realized that sometimes the greatest truths come from the deepest lies, and the strongest bonds are the ones we choose to forge, not the ones we’re born with.
“Sweet dreams, my baby boy,” I whispered, and for the first time since reading that note, the word ‘son’ felt more true than ever before.
A man smiling warmly | Source: Midjourney
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
Leave a Reply