I was almost at the end of my shift when the snow started to fall. These weren’t light, fluffy flakes; they were thick flurries that turned the air into a heavy soup, making visibility nearly impossible. Frustrated, I punched my steering wheel. “That’s all I needed! Today of all days!”
I pulled into a bus stop and watched as passengers shuffled in, one by one, flashing their cards. Then, an older lady in a long, dark overcoat stepped up and began fishing for her purse. I groaned internally. She was going to hold me up, and every second counted if I wanted to be on time to meet Angelica’s parents.
“Good afternoon,” she said with a sweet smile. “I’m sorry, my wallet seems to have fallen to the bottom of my bag…” She kept rummaging, eventually pulling things out to find it. First, it was a hairbrush, then a tiny folding umbrella, a makeup bag, and a snack bar.
“Lady,” I snapped, my patience wearing thin. “Would you find that money already?”
“I’m sorry,” she stammered, her eyes glittering with embarrassed tears. “I went into the city to get my granddaughter an engagement gift and I must have dropped it… Oh, no! My phone is gone too!”
“I hear plenty of sob stories,” I told her, my tone nasty. “You pay and you stay—or you get off the bus and walk home!”
“I swear to you,” she cried, “this is God’s truth! My wallet is gone, and I have no way to get home!” I just sneered. It was a pity, I thought, but she wasn’t riding on my bus for free.
“Please, son,” she said with quiet dignity. “I’ve had surgery recently on my knee. I can’t drive, which is why I took the bus, and I won’t be able to walk such a distance.”
“You should have thought of that before you pulled off this scam!” I screamed. “GET OFF!”
She pushed her belongings back into her bag and stepped off into the cold. My last glimpse of her in the rearview mirror showed someone lost and small. I felt a momentary twinge of pity, but then I saw the clock on my dashboard. I was already late. I drove away, sure I’d never see her again.
I spent the drive thinking about Angie. She was beautiful, smart, and the daughter of a millionaire—totally out of my league. Despite her parents’ disapproval of her marrying a bus driver, she had stood up for me. Tonight was my chance to make a good impression on the Westerly family.
Forty-five minutes later, I stood nervously in front of their gorgeous Tribeca brownstone, adjusting my tie. Angie opened the door, enfolded me in her arms, and whispered, “Don’t be nervous, I love you!”
She led me to a room where a slender woman named Meredith, Angie’s mother, greeted me stiffly. She began a tour of the room, droning on about various knick-knacks. Then, my heart skipped a beat. On the mantel, in a heavy silver frame, was a photograph of the old woman I had thrown off the bus.
“Oh my God,” I gasped. “Who is that?”
“That’s my mother-in-law, Millie,” Meredith sighed. “She’s such a trial. Can you believe she actually lost her wallet today?”
Just then, a key turned in the lock. A tall man walked in, his arm wrapped protectively around the very woman from the bus. “Meredith,” he cried, “get some hot tea. The poor dear is freezing!”
Angie ran to her. “Oh, Gran Millie! You have to be more careful!”
Millie shook her head, explaining she thought her wallet was stolen after she bought the gift at Bloomingdale’s. Then, her eyes fell on me. “You!” she cried. “What are you doing here? If a kind lady hadn’t let me use her phone, I’d still be in the snow!”
Angie looked at me, her face deadly pale. “You did this?”
“Look, Angie,” I stammered, “I was late, and I didn’t know it was your grandmother…” The words choked in my throat. She looked at me like I was a stranger and pulled the ring off her finger.
“Take it back,” she said. “I don’t even know who you are. I won’t marry you.”
I knelt and begged for forgiveness, but she wouldn’t change her mind. I walked out of that house and back into the snow, knowing I had lost her because I simply wasn’t the man I thought I was. Kindness costs nothing, but my cruelty had cost me everything.
