Final Wish

The day started like any other, a quiet drizzle coated the windows of the coffee shop and customers grimaced at the rain as though the autumn weather was inconsiderate. Freshly ground coffee and the warm smell of right-out-of-the-oven cookies lured customers in as they walked by. The easy low-fi music mingled with the sound of the grinders and the mumbled conversations. People ambled in, eyes half open, gave a weak half-smile to anyone who looked in their direction while they waited for their coffee orders.

As morning gave way to early afternoon hours, the dreary weather also gave way to rays of warming sunshine. Some customers were camped out at tables with their laptops and notebooks spread around them, oblivious to the world around them. Others were catching up with friends they hadn’t seen in ages. A few were simply stopping in for a cup of coffee between meetings.

“Good Afternoon!” I said with a smile as the bell above the door jingled.

The man that had wandered in stood at the door for a moment, startled by the greeting. He plunged his hands into the pockets of his old, grey coat, frantically fishing for something. After a moment of near panic, he approached the register with a crumpled and dirty dollar and a handful of change.

“What can I get with this?” His voice was gravelly but kind. He was expecting a rejection of service.

“Hmm, well, a cup of regular coffee is a dollar. But how about you save that and just take a seat over there where it’s warmer.” I smiled as I pointed to the far booth against the back wall.

“But don’t I need to buy something to be in here?” His voice shook.

I smiled again. “It’s okay, sometimes all we need is a moment to stop and rest. You go relax for a bit.”

He couldn’t think of anything else to say as he shuffled towards the booth I had pointed at a moment ago. His clothes weren’t clean, his grey hair was messy and the lines on his face told a story of recent hardships.

After letting him relax for a few minutes, I brought a plate with a turkey and cheese sandwich and a cup of plain, hot coffee to his table and sat across from him. He stared at him with deep, chocolate brown eyes then looked at the sandwich and steaming coffee. When he looked back at me with obvious question in his eyes, I nodded and nudged the plate and coffee towards him.

“But I can’t afford this, I’m sorry,” he whispered without meeting my eyes.

I sighed. “I know, but everyone deserves food and a warm place. You deserve those things, too.”

Tears welled in his eyes as he reached for the sandwich with dirt covered hands. He stopped before picking it up. “May I use the restroom to wash up a little? This looks too good to ruin with street dirt.”

I nodded in the direction of the hallway that led to the bathrooms. He slid out from the booth and wandered the hallway, admiring the art on the walls. After a few minutes, he reappeared with clean face and hands, and his hair had been finger combed. I could see the man he may have been before hard times caught him.

I gave him a warm smile as he approached the table. “You’re pretty handsome.”

His cheeks colored slightly, as he awkwardly smiled and sat back in the booth. He reached for the sandwich again, paused as he glanced at me to make sure I hadn’t changed my mind, then picked it up gingerly. He breathed in the fresh bread and looked it over as though he had never seen a sandwich before. I watched him examine and admire the thick slices of bread, the generous portion of thick cut turkey and slices of swiss cheese, he smiled at the assortment of vegetables on it, then bit into it with enthusiasm. A groan of happiness escaped from him as he savored the first bite of his sandwich. I hid my smile behind my own cup of coffee as he allowed himself a few moments of unapologetic food happiness.

“Thank you, miss…” he trailed off, unsure what to call me. He sounded more sure of himself, his voice no longer shaky.

“You can call me Charlie,” I said as I extended a hand to him with a big smile. “And what’s your name, Mr…?”

He stared at me for a long moment then took my hand and shook it with an equally large smile. “Charlie? Nice to meet you. My name is Charlie.”

We both laughed.

“Well, it’s been a pleasure, Charlie. My break is over, so I’ve got to get back behind the counter. You’re welcome to stay as long as you like. And feel free to come in whenever you’re in the area.” I slid out from the booth, gave him a small nod and a smile before tying my apron around my waist and heading to the register to take the next order.

Autumn begrudgingly gave way to the colder winter weather as rain turned to snow. Charlie came by everyday that I worked and would chat with me on my breaks and during the lulls in the day. I got to know him and learn about his life. He had a daughter a couple cities away who had a 10 year old daughter. Charlie hadn’t seen his granddaughter in over a year. I learned he was a successful businessman downtown in a big law office until his partner stole all the company money and fled the country. He never told his daughter he was homeless.

“Why don’t you tell your daughter?” I asked him.

“She has a family now and I don’t want to be a burden to her.” Charlie was insistent that he not be a burden to anyone.

“You’re her father, I seriously doubt she’d ever consider you a burden. You helped shape her world.”

The bell jingled before he could respond. He sat back at his booth and pondered our conversation.

“Thank you, Charlie. I think I’ll call her. You’re probably right. It seems you may know my daughter better than I do.” He smiled and headed out into the snowy evening.

Charlie stopped coming in after that. Several weeks went by. I missed him, he had become my friend.

On an unusually warm day, a well dressed woman walked in through the front door. She was tall and beautiful, and I felt like I knew her. My heart dropped as she approached the counter and looked at me with sad, chocolate eyes. I couldn’t put words together.

“Are you Charlie?” She asked before I could offer a greeting.

I just nodded as the knot in my stomach twisted tighter. I cleared my throat. “Rae, I need to take my break early, something’s come up.”

The woman waited for me at the booth I pointed at, the one I shared with Charlie. I brought over two mugs of coffee, one with cinnamon neatly dusted on foam. She glanced at it a moment and smiled before taking a sip.

“You must know who I am already.” She said as she worried at the handle of the mug.

“You must be Darlene, Charlie’s daughter.” I replied quietly.

She nodded. “He told me about you. I can see why he felt comfortable here, with you.”

“Is he okay?” I paused and sighed. “He’s not okay, which is why you’re here, isn’t it?

Tears filled her eyes, the knot in my stomach tightened.

“He passed away about a week ago, he called me the night he left here, said he wasn’t feeling well and wanted me to come see him. He waited until he knew he wouldn’t make it to tell me about you and this.” She pulled a padded envelope out of her large purse and handed it to me.

I stared at it through unshed tears. “Charlie” was the only thing written on the envelope. I took it with shaky hands. The first tears fell from my eyes as I hugged the envelope, a gift from a friend I would never see again.

Darlene’s sorrowful voice startled me from my own thoughts. “He spoke highly of you. He wanted you to have that. I’m forever thankful that he had someone like you these few months. Thank you.”

I watched her get up and make her way to the front register. She said something to Rae, stuck a couple dollars in the tip jar and left.

Time was irrelevant and I had no idea how long I sat there staring at the envelope with my name on it, with his name and writing on it. I jumped when Rae put her hand on my shoulder. Tears poured from my eyes the moment I saw the look on her face. Darlene must have told her. She told me to take the rest of the day and the next day off.

I opened the thick envelope, careful not to ruin his writing or the contents inside, and tipped it onto my dining table. A well loved, black journal fell out. I opened the front page.

“Charlie,

Thank you for everything. I hope my story inspires you to create a life you want for yourself.

Your friend,

Charlie”

The tears came again as I closed the journal and cried.

After preparing a mug of peppermint tea, I picked up the journal and sat in my chair and read his story.

There was a small envelope taped to a page in the middle. “My final wish is for you to find happiness. I hope this helps.” I fumbled with the tape, careful not to rip the page. A check with my name on it for $20,000 was inside. My world imploded. He had access to this money that could have saved his life and he chose not to. I closed the check in the journal and went to bed, I was confused and feeling too many things.

That night I dreamed of Charlie in nice summer clothes on a boat. He smiled at me and told me that it was okay to be angry and sad, and that he wanted the best for me. I offered him hope when no one else would, and now it was my turn.

After a week of staring at it, I found Darlene’s phone number. She told me to keep the check, that Charlie had written checks for them as well. She thanked me again for being there for him.

I gave it a lot of thought on what to do with the 20 grand I suddenly had. A smile pulled at the corners of my lips, Charlie and I shared a dream of visiting Greece. The history was beautiful and the culture even more so. I contacted Darlene again, asked if it would be possible to get a small jar of his ashes. She had a jar delivered to me the next day.

As winter gave up it’s stranglehold on the city and spring started to promise warmer days, I boarded a flight to Athens.

I stood on a cliff over a small pool of beautiful blue water and watched the sunset.

“I wish you were here to see this for yourself, you would have loved it. But Darlene said that of all places to forever be a part of, you would have loved it to be here. I hope you found peace, and I’m so thankful to have met you. I’ll be opening my own coffee shop when I get back with the rest of the money. It’s going to be called Charlie’s Place. Thank you.”

A breeze played with my hair as I unscrewed the jar with shaky hands and tipped it over the edge of the cliff and watched as the ashes flew away on the breeze into the sunset.