Never too late for love

Mr Brown was a miserable man. He would spend whole days sitting in his office, looking through the papers, signing and reading them. Mr Brown never occurred to have a family. He just never had time for that pointing out to his remaining friends that "relationship is just a waste of time and money"... Uhm... "as well as children". Now that he turned 55 years old, he found himself sitting alone in his office on Sunday with no postcards being sent to him. 

It was the 24th of December, Christmas was coming, and no one was going to give him even a pair of disgusting red socks with Santa Clause on them. Mr Brown could buy himself anything he wanted - the problem was not the money, the problem was the people that left him forever. 

He breathed through his lungs and decided to have a walk before coming back to his empty house. The main square was full of people who were laughing together, exchanging gifts, kissing and holding hands. He couldn't bear it anymore, so he sneaked into a small empty second-hand shop. The entring bell rang, and an old lady with a squeaky voice said, "Welcome to my shop. Hope you'll find here what you are looking for.'

"Doubt that," Mr Brown answered sceptically looking through a bunch of junk, hanging on the racks.

"I'm sure there's something here that can make you happy. You never know what you can find in this shop, even I don't know all the secrets hidden here," the old lady said mysteriously as though looking through him. 

Mr Brown considered that spending Christmas Eve with a strange lady in a second-hand shop is definitely not the peak of his dreams, so he was about to leave the shop when his eyes came across a worn-out brown coat. His heart slipped a bit. The man was sure he'd seen it somewhere. Mr Brown approached the rack, and he was sure to catch a familiar scent. The scent of his youth. A mix of cheap tobacco, the parchment, second-rate coffee and slight odour of perfume. That was the coat of his father. He couldn't understand why it was there, but without any second thought, the man took the coat and approached the counter. 

"I'll take it," he said and fetched the money. It cost only 20 pounds. 

The old lady smiled and was about to pack the coat, but the man stopped her and said: "Don't, I'll put it on". 

Mr Brown took the coat without even being bothered to take the change and ran out of the shop. He put the jacket on, feeling cosier than ever. There came his memories. 

"He's sitting with his father on the couch in front of the fire talking about different stuff; he's running to him to say that he got his first A+ for maths; his father is hugging him and telling him that everything is going to be okay."

 There were the things that he thought he'd never forget. 

His father died. Long-time ago. He got into an accident, and his mother to get rid of all the things that could remind her of her dead husband decided to give all his father's stuff to the charity. There might be the reason why it turned out in that second-hand shop. 

It was getting colder, so Mr Brown put his hand in the pocket to warm his hands. Suddenly, he felt that there was something in the pocket. Something soft - it was a piece of paper. He took it out. It was a letter. Mr Brown's hands were shaking, while he was opening an old parchment. He could see what was written clearly because of the tears that turned out on his eyes. It was all there in ink and shaky handwriting. 

"Dear Teddy, 

I know that this letter is not going to find you. Your mother and I are getting divorced. You are not old enough to understand it, but I hope that when you get older, you will figure it out. Your mother is unhappy with me, but I will always be there for you. 

You are a unique child, out of the ordinary. You can be reserved some times. But you should, no, you must open your heart to the world and it will except you and love you as I do.

Be strong and always except the love that you are given. Don't forget, love is the only thing that can keep you afloat. I'm still alive because of you and mom. You are my survivers. 

So, find the person that will be your anchor, that will support every time the world turns its back on you. 

Love, 

dad."

Mr Brown was standing in the middle of the square and was crying as he had never cried before. His dad died when he was ten. He must have been on his way to the court when the accident happened. His mother never told the little boy about the divorce. Might have been for the better. 

He remembered how lost he felt when his mother approached him on the schoolyard and told the news. He remembered how lonely he felt and empty when there was no one to support him. 

The man found out the truth in forty-five years and couldn't stop crying. 

"You are okay, sir?" a woman was standing near him looking very preoccupied. Mr Brown was very close to turning back to his usual behaviour, but the words of his father were now typed in his head. 

He shook his hand and answered: "No, missis, I'm not okay."

"It's miss, actually," the woman blushed. "Let's take you a cup of hot chocolate, and you will tell me the whole story. Aren't we?"

The man smiled and decided that some things should be done one way or another. So, he nodded, and they headed to the closest cafe. 

"How is it, you are alone on the Christmas Eve?" Mr Brown asked. 

"Long story it is, but you - first. Do you like hot chocolate with mint? Because it's my favourite..." the woman started talking, waving her hands and smiling brighter than the Christmas Tree. 

There were two adults who were walking towards the new life with new opportunities to love and to be loved. Because it is never too late for love, is it?