[ WP ] `` You , sir , clearly do not understand my current predicament . ''

`` No, we understand. We all understand. You came here to hold up the line for the past five minutes, so that he,'' the disgruntled businessman pointed an accusative finger at the man behind the regiuster, `` could understand understand your predicament!'' The girl, whose hair was disheveled and outfit was simply a tank top and pajama pants, had dry streaks from tears running down her cheeks. 
 
 `` Sir, I'm very sorry, but I'm having a serious issue.'' 
 
 `` Yeah, well, your issue can wait until some of us get our coffee and go to work.'' The four people standing in line behind him nodded with various degrees of frustration on their faces. 
 
 `` Baby,'' the young man behind the cash register, who had been almost silent until that point, gestured toward one of the seats. `` Maybe you could sit and wait until we're a little less busy? I'll buy you a piece of cheesecake and some coffee.'' 
 
 She sighed, then turned and looked over at the line behind her. Tears welled up in her eyes as she retreated to a table in the corner, conceding defeat. She took a chair that faced the window, sun pouring over her face and the table. The girl watched as people walked by the Starbucks, oblivious to her situation. The horror that was facing her that day. Her attempts to focus on anything else where to no avail, because the dread just returned with a quiet thumping. The barista, her boyfriend of three years, glanced over at her whenever he had the opportunity, but nothing would ease her stress. 
 
 It was almost thirty minutes before anyone approached her, and she naturally expected it to be her boyfriend. Instead, it was an older man who'd been standing in the line she was holding up earlier. In his hand, he held a a steaming cup of coffee. Grande size. He held out the cup to her and she took it gratefully. 
 
 `` Thank you for the coffee, sir.'' 
 
 `` Do n't worry, not all of us are impatient assholes,'' he told her with a smile. 
 
 `` He was probably just trying to get to work,'' she replied with a little nervous chuckle. `` It was my fault, really.'' 
 
 `` It does n't matter whose fault it was, there was no need to be so ruse about it. Especially since you seemed to be having a crisis.'' The man stayed beside her for a long moment before checking his and making a motion to leave. `` Well, I hope everything gets solved. And, not to sound like I'm mocking you, but did it ever occur to you that the man in your kitchen that looked like your father was your father? I know its not a normal thing to do, but I've given my kids surprise visits before.'' 
 
 `` Yeah, sure,'' she responded without a single ounce of sincerity in her voice. The man tipped his hat at her then quickly left the Starbucks. Once everyone left, she pulled her wallet from her pocket and slipped a piece of paper out of it. It was worn, grubby piece of newspaper with noticeable creases where it had been folded many times over and small rips along the edges. Beneath a blurry black and white image were the words, `` In loving memory.''
