You know that moment when life throws you a curveball out of nowhere? Well, here’s how it happened to James.
James shut the fridge door, wiping his hands on a tea towel.
“Right, that should do it. The freezer’s working now, but let’s test it—got an empty plastic bowl? Fill it with water and pop it in the freezer. I’ll ring you later—if it’s frozen by tonight, you’re sorted.”
Just then, his phone buzzed again. Another customer, he figured, picking up.
“Hello, James speaking—yeah, appliance repairs. What’s the issue? Oh, you need my full name? James Carter, if that matters. Wait—what did you just say? *Father?*” He nearly dropped the phone.
The voice introduced himself as William Carter. It took James a second—this was his dad, the man who’d vanished over twenty years ago. His heart hammered, old memories flashing like snippets of some half-forgotten film.
“…What do you want, then?” James stumbled over the words, unsure what to even call him. “A chat, after two decades? Brilliant. Look, I’m on a job—I’ll call you back.” He hung up, muttering under his breath, “Unbelievable.”
Turned up after all this time. Probably after money. Of course. James scoffed, getting back to work.
“All right, love—just ring me tonight, check the bowl. If it’s frozen, you’re golden.”
The woman thanked him, and James headed to his next job—an elderly lady with a leaking washing machine. She was a talker, insisting he sit for tea and biscuits. The fix was simple: just the door seal needed adjusting. The last bloke had quoted her a fortune, but James charged barely anything—no way was he fleecing pensioners. She kept saying he was the kindest soul she’d met in years, which made him awkwardly sip his tea and promise to come back if anything else broke.
But his mind kept circling back to that call. Blurry memories resurfaced—his parents splitting when he was five. His dad drank back then, lost his job. Mum cried but kept believing his promises. One afternoon, his dad picked him up from nursery, sat on a park bench, cracked open a beer, and started rambling to a five-year-old about how his wife didn’t respect him. Then he passed out. James, humiliated, tried shaking him awake before giving up and wandering off alone. A neighbour found him before he got too lost.
That night, his mum hadn’t shouted. Just said quietly, “Leave. You let our boy wander off alone. What kind of father does that?”
His dad moved to another city. Sent money, toys now and then. Mum would roll her eyes—”We’re fine without him, aren’t we, Jamie?”
When James was ten, she introduced him to her new bloke, Mark.
“Sweetheart, Mark wants to marry me. He’ll take care of us. Fancy a new bike?”
Mark was decent enough. Loved his mum. But he wasn’t a dad.
That evening, James reluctantly dialled his father’s number. The man answered straight away.
“Jamie, let’s meet. Tomorrow, seven, by the fountain on the old high street. Can you make it?”
“Yeah, fine,” James grunted.
His mum had once said Mark wanted to adopt him, give him his name. *They’re family now.* But James refused. Staying James Carter felt important—like keeping some invisible thread to his dad. His mum wanted to erase the past, but James had waited. For what, he didn’t know. Eventually, he realised: there was nothing to wait for.
The next evening, he walked to the fountain, already decided: if his dad asked for cash, he’d help—then that was it. Debts paid.
His dad stood by the bench—older, but not the mess James expected. Dressed smart, steady gaze. Same eyes. Same ears, even.
“Evening, James,” the man said, offering a hand.
James shook it. Firm grip.
“Here’s the thing,” his dad started. “I promised your mum I’d stay away while you were a kid. I moved up north—drank too much at first, nearly lost everything. Then I met a nurse in hospital. Married her. She had a daughter, Lucy—raised her as my own. Started fixing cars, appliances, anything. Built a business. But you—you’re grown now. You’re my blood. I want to ask…”
James braced himself. *Here it comes.*
“Me and my mate run a repair firm,” his dad went on. “I hear you’re in the trade too. We’re moving the business back here. Want you as my partner—maybe take over one day. Think about it, son. I know I’m a stranger. But I want to give you what I couldn’t before.”
James was floored. He’d expected a handout request, not this. Within days, he said yes.
The more time they spent working together, the less the old hurt stung. James finally had a dad. Now, instead of solo jobs, they ran a thriving repair business—always discounts for the elderly.
And James? He proposed to his girlfriend, Emily. Two years together, but he’d hesitated. Now he knew—he was ready.
One night, his dad said, “I was a fool back then. Scared, clueless. Time’s no excuse. Neither’s age. You’ve got to be better.”
James forgave him. Some things, you can still fix.
