Lee, a 25-year-old waiter, was distressed. He had recently lost his mother. On top of that, he had stumbled upon a bundle of letters his mother had stashed away for years while clearing out her room. They were written to her by someone called Steve, who according to the letters, was in prison.
A single parent, Lee’s mother had never talked about her partner. And Lee knew absolutely nothing about his father.
‘Could the sender of the letters be my father? Was my father a criminal?’ Lee wondered as anguish filled his mind.
Lee had no one else to call family, nor did he have many friends. The only person he opened up to was, sadly, one of his regular customers at the café. Stephen was a librarian who came over every evening for supper. He would stay until after Lee cleaned up for the day. During that time, many a conversation had flown between the two men over the years.
Lee considered the elderly man his mentor and confidante. His face would light up when he saw Stephen enter the café every evening. And so it did that day as well.
“Good to see you, Stephen…” Lee greeted and brought him his usual order.
After Stephen had his supper, Lee closed the café to sweep the place clean. Lee spoke to Stephen about his mother and the letters. Stephen listened intently and said nothing for a long time.
“Let me tell you a story…” he finally said, pulling himself a chair.
“Once upon a time, there was a man who robbed people for a living. One day, as fate would have it, he fell in love with a sophisticated, affluent woman. He feared that she would reject him if he told her the truth about what he did. And so, he lied to her.”
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