Being a radio host who gives dating advice doesn’t make navigating love any easier—especially when I crashed my best friend’s first date dressed as a clown. What happened that night was unexpected, and now I’m caught in a situation I never saw coming. Sometimes, life takes you where you least expect.
Once again, I found myself in Lucy’s cozy kitchen, she animatedly talked about yet another man who had caught her attention. Lucy’s love life was always buzzing with activity, unlike mine.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Finding a partner wasn’t easy for me—I didn’t want to date just to avoid being alone.
I believed it was better to wait than to settle, even if that meant coming home to my cat instead of a husband.
“He’s perfect!” Lucy said, pulling me out of my thoughts. “We’ve been texting nonstop. He’s so sweet. I think he might be different.”
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“So, you haven’t actually met him yet?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Not yet, but we’re meeting Friday. I’m so excited. I can feel this is going to be great!” she said.
I smirked without meaning to.
“What’s that look for?” she asked, narrowing her eyes.
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“Nothing. It’s just… you don’t even know him yet. People can seem amazing online but be completely different in real life,” I said.
“You’re so distrustful. That’s why you don’t have a man,” Lucy replied, crossing her arms.
“I don’t have a man because men are idiots,” I said with a shrug.
“Not Mike. He’s wonderful. I think he might even be the one,” she said.
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“Listen to your heart,” I replied. That was my go-to advice, though Lucy said it about every guy she met.
After that evening, I forgot about Mike and Lucy’s upcoming date—until Friday arrived, and I received a message from her.
There I was, dressed as a clown, surrounded by kids—my niece’s friends—because my brother had forgotten to hire an entertainer for her birthday party.
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The striped clown suit was too tight, and the red wig itched like crazy. I could feel sweat dripping down my back as kids tugged at my oversized shoes and poked my sides.
“Well, you can do it,” my brother had said, as if asking me to juggle balloons and make kids laugh was no big deal.
“I’m a radio host, not an entertainer!” I snapped.
“It’s basically the same thing,” he replied with a grin.
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Even though I wanted to storm out, we both knew I wouldn’t. I always stepped in for family, no matter how ridiculous the request.
As I tried to keep the kids from snatching my wig, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I quickly checked it, careful to keep my clown nose in place.
@Lucy
When will you be free???
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@Me
About half an hour
@Lucy
I need your help!!!!
@Me
What happened??
I frowned. Lucy was on her date with Mike. Had something gone wrong?
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@Lucy
I don’t know if Mike likes me! I need you to find out!
@Me
How am I supposed to do that?
@Lucy
You do this all the time on your radio show!
@Me
I’m in a clown costume!!!
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@Lucy
Pleaseeeeeee
@Me
Fine, but you owe me.
@Lucy
Thank you thank you thank you!!!!!!!
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I sighed, stuffing my phone back into my pocket. After peeling off the kids and saying goodbye, I messaged Lucy for the location and called a cab.
When I walked into the dimly lit bar, Lucy spotted me instantly and waved enthusiastically.
I hesitated, adjusting my ridiculous clown wig as a group of strangers gave me confused looks. Taking a deep breath, I made my way to their table.
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Lucy beamed as I sat down. “Mike, this is Trish, my best friend,” she said.
“Nice to meet you,” Mike said. His eyes briefly flicked to my bright red nose.
“Hi,” I replied, trying to ignore how ridiculous I looked.
Lucy launched into small talk, but the conversation quickly shifted. Mike mentioned a classic movie, and I couldn’t help but jump in.
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“You’re into old films?” I asked, intrigued.
“Big time,” Mike said, his face lighting up.
We exchanged favorite titles, diving into directors and scenes. Lucy fidgeted, looking uninterested. I tried to change topics, but Mike kept steering it back.
When Lucy excused herself, I leaned in. “So, what do you think of Lucy?” I asked.
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“Um… I mean, she’s cute,” Mike said, glancing away like he wasn’t sure how to answer.
“Nice? Lucy is more than cute. She’s amazing,” I said, my voice firm. “She’s funny, smart, and a great cook. I go to her place for dinner sometimes because I can’t stand cooking.”
“I love cooking,” Mike said, smiling a little.
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“See? You two already have something in common,” I said, trying to be encouraging. But then he looked right at me.
His eyes seemed to study mine, and for a moment, I felt something strange. It was like a spark, something unexpected. My cheeks got warm, and I quickly smiled back.
“But I don’t want to argue over who cooks dinner,” Mike said, breaking the moment. “There should only be one chef in the kitchen.”
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I laughed. “So, you’re the chef?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Always,” he said with a grin, and we both laughed.
Just then, Lucy returned to the table. “What’s so funny?” she asked, looking between us. “Were you talking about me?”
“Sort of,” I said.
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Mike’s phone buzzed, and he excused himself to take the call. The moment he left, Lucy turned to me eagerly. “So? What does he think of me?”
“He thinks you’re cute,” I said carefully. “What do you think of him?”
“I don’t know,” she said, her brow furrowing. “Watching you two, I feel like he’s more your type.”
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“Pfft. What? No. What? No,” I stammered.
“Not very convincing,” she said with a smirk.
“It doesn’t matter. He’s your date,” I said firmly. “There’s a rule—never go after your friend’s guy.”
“It’s just a first date,” Lucy said with a shrug. Then she smiled. “But I’m glad you reacted like that—I think I really like him.”
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I smiled back, but deep down, something felt off. A tiny pang of sadness hit me, and I wasn’t sure why.
We stayed a bit longer, and I tried to shift the focus so Mike and Lucy could talk.
But every time I said something to steer the conversation, Mike directed his answers back to me. It was hard not to notice, and Lucy didn’t seem thrilled.
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When we decided to leave, Lucy headed to the restroom again, leaving me alone with Mike. The night air was cool, and I shivered a little.
“So, do you work as an entertainer?” Mike asked, his tone light.
“Why do you ask?” I replied, narrowing my eyes playfully. Then I saw him glance at my outfit, and it hit me. “Oh, no! I host a radio show. Dating advice, mostly. My niece had a birthday party, and my brother forgot to hire an entertainer.” I gestured to my clown costume with a sheepish smile.
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“Well, that’s bold of you,” Mike said, grinning.
“It was fine until the kids tried to tear my costume apart. They’re little savages,” I joked.
Mike laughed. “Kids can be wild. They’ve got endless energy.”
“Yeah, but they mean well,” I said.
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He paused. “Listen, Trish…” he began, his voice softer, but before he could finish, Lucy appeared.
“Want to walk me home?” she asked him brightly. “I live close by.”
“Of course,” Mike said, stepping toward her.
He turned back to me, and we both hesitated. He went for a hug while I offered a handshake, and we ended up with an awkward high five.
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It made us laugh, but as they walked away, I felt something strange, a little twist in my chest.
The next few days passed quietly. Lucy didn’t say much about Mike, which was unusual for her.
She only mentioned that he hadn’t wanted to come up to her apartment after their date.
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She shrugged it off, but I could tell she wasn’t thrilled. I didn’t press her for details.
One morning, as I was sipping my coffee, my phone buzzed. It was a text from an unknown number.
@Unknown
Hey 🙂 It’s Mike. I know this is weird, but would you like to meet up sometime?
I stared at the screen, my stomach flipping.
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@Me
How did you get my number?
@Unknown
Secret 😉 So, what do you think?
I frowned, trying to steady my thoughts.
@Me
Sorry, I don’t go on dates with men my friends like.
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@Unknown
Lucy and I only had one date. But I haven’t felt a connection like this in years—with anyone. Not until I met you.
My chest tightened. I stared at the words longer than I should have.
@Me
Sorry, but no.
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I set my phone down. Saying no felt like the right thing, but his words lingered, leaving a knot I couldn’t untangle.
I tried to shake it off and focus on work. During my radio show, I put on my usual cheerful voice, pretending my own heart wasn’t a mess.
“Hi, this is Trish. How can I help with your love troubles?” I said, wishing someone could help with mine.
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“Hi,” a man’s voice said, calm and familiar. “I don’t date much. It’s hard for me to find a connection with someone. But recently, I went on a date with one woman. Her friend showed up in a clown costume. And, well, with the friend, I felt something I haven’t felt in years—maybe ever.”
I froze. My heart skipped a beat. It was Mike.
“But she won’t go out with me. She says it’s wrong. I don’t know what to do,” he said. “I really like her.”
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My mouth went dry. “Maybe you should listen to her and let it go,” I managed, my voice unsteady.
“She’s unforgettable. The kind of person who stays with you for a lifetime,” he said softly.
I smiled, caught off guard. “You probably just think that because she was wearing a clown costume,” I said, my tone lighter.
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“I’d remember her no matter what she wore,” he replied without hesitation. “So, will this girl go out with me?”
I hesitated, feeling torn. “I’m afraid that’s impossible,” I said quietly.
Before I could say more, my producer buzzed in. “Take the next call—it’s important,” she said.
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I switched lines. “Go out with him! You have my blessing!” Lucy yelled through the line. I blinked, stunned. “Finally, a guy you like!”
“But you like him,” I stammered, realizing we were still live.
“Not really. He likes you,” Lucy said.
“It’s not right,” I protested weakly.
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“Forget right or wrong. Listen to your heart. You always say that to others. Take your own advice for once,” Lucy urged.
“So, what do you say?” Mike’s voice came back, gentle but insistent. “Her friend gave her blessing.”
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I sighed, my walls crumbling. “Yes,” I whispered.
The sound engineer played an applause track, and I couldn’t help but laugh. My face burned as I blushed, feeling completely exposed—but strangely happy.
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If you enjoyed this story, read this one: Attending my daughter’s wedding was supposed to be a joyful moment, but facing my ex-husband and his new wife turned everything upside down. Old wounds resurfaced, and new betrayals came to light. I thought I’d left the past behind, but this trip forced me to confront truths I wasn’t ready to face.
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I Took in a Young Man Freezing on the Street on Christmas Eve — Later That Night, I Was Struck with Shock as He Crept Toward My Bed
I thought I was doing a good deed on Christmas Eve by taking in a young man shivering in the cold. But later that night, I woke to find him in my doorway, and my breath caught when I saw what he was holding.
Last Christmas Eve pressed down on me, heavy as the thick, relentless snow, the early darkness, and the silence echoing in the wind. I was just returning from the cemetery, where I’d visited my late husband Michael’s grave like I always did since his passing.
A sad woman in a cemetery | Source: Midjourney
I had stood there bundled in my thick coat, staring at his name etched into the cold stone, missing him with an ache that never fully disappeared.
But somehow, the loneliness was sharper that year. My son David had called earlier to tell me they wouldn’t be able to visit because Lily, my seven-year-old granddaughter, was sick.
Girl sleeping | Source: Midjourney
He apologized, adding, “Mom, we’ll come as soon as she’s better, I promise.”
“Of course,” I’d said, doing my best not to show my disappointment. I understood his position, but the silence in the house was almost too much to bear.
The streets were quiet as I drove home from the cemetery. That’s when I saw him. At first, I thought he was just a shadow under the streetlamp, huddled up and unmoving.
A quiet, snowy street | Source: Midjourney
But as I got closer, I realized it was a young man in a worn jacket. He looked frozen, his knees pulled to his chest as he sat on the curb.
And although I should’ve ignored him, and had done so with other people in the past, something told me to stop. I slowed the car and rolled down the window.
“Are you alright?” I called out. “Why are you out here in this weather?”
A woman in a car | Source: Midjourney
He turned his head slowly, meeting my gaze with striking eyes. They were the kind of light brown that stops you in your tracks, deep and piercing even in the dim light, and accentuated by his tanned skin.
For a moment, he just stared at me, blinking rather slowly. Then he said, almost too softly to hear, “I… I have nowhere else to go.”
I hesitated for only a second. “You’ll freeze out here,” I said. “Get in.”
He looked at me like he couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing, but then he stood up slowly, brushed snow off his pants, and climbed into the car.
A shabby man near a car | Source: Midjourney
“What’s your name?” I asked as I turned up the heat.
“Carlos,” he answered cautiously.
“Well, Carlos,” I said, “you’re coming home with me tonight. It’s Christmas Eve, and no one should be out in this cold.”
He didn’t say anything, but I caught the faintest nod out of the corner of my eye.
When we got to the house, I grabbed some of David’s old clothes from the closet and handed them to Carlos.
“The bathroom is down the hall,” I said. “Take as much time as you need to warm up.”
A woman gesturing towards the side | Source: Midjourney
While he cleaned up and changed, I made hot cocoa, pulling out the marshmallows I usually saved for Lily. By the time Carlos came back into the living room, he looked more human and less like a shadow.
His now-clean hair curled beautifully, and the oversized sweater made him look younger than I’d first thought. He sank onto the couch, clutching the cup of hot cocoa.
A man holding a cup, sitting on a sofa | Source: Midjourney
“You remind me of my son,” I said as I settled into the armchair across from him. “That’s probably why I stopped my car.”
It was true, except it wasn’t so much his looks that resembled David, it was his aura. It was hard to describe. David looked just like my late husband, with green eyes and pale white skin. Carlos was obviously of Latin-American descent. But there was still something about him…
He smiled politely, but his eyes remained guarded. “Gracias. I mean, thank you,” he said quietly, correcting himself. “You didn’t have to… but you did. I won’t forget it.”
A man with a deep stare | Source: Midjourney
I smiled back at him. “De nada (You’re welcome),” I replied, though my Spanish wasn’t good at all. “It’s almost Christmas. Everyone deserves to be warm.”
I wanted to ask him more about himself, what had brought him to the streets, why he was alone on Christmas Eve, but when I tried, his face clouded over.
“It’s complicated,” he said, looking down at his cocoa.
“Fair enough,” I nodded, deciding not to push. Instead, I put on a cozy Christmas movie on the TV, and later, I showed him to the guest room and wished him a good night.
A woman in an armchair | Source: Midjourney
“If you need anything, just knock,” I said.
“Thank you,” he said again, and this time, the corner of his lips turned up slightly.
***
Later that night, I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. I was just starting to drift off when I heard a faint creak of floorboards outside my room.
I scrambled up in bed, every muscle screaming in protest, and turned to the door.
Carlos was standing in the doorway, his face shadowed and unrecognizable in the darkness.
A dark figure standing in a doorway | Source: Midjourney
My heart quickened, and for one moment, I knew I shouldn’t have been so nice. Bringing a stranger home was a horrible idea.
My heart began to pound in my ears as I noticed something in his hand. I couldn’t make out what it was before he started walking toward me in slow and deliberate steps.
Panic surged through me. “STOP! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” I shouted, my voice cracking with fear.
A woman screaming in bed | Source: Midjourney
Carlos froze, his eyes widening in alarm. “Wait!” he said quickly, holding up the object in his hand. Relief washed over me as I realized what it was: a small orange bottle with my heart medication.
“You didn’t take this,” he said, his voice calm but firm. “I saw it on the counter and thought you might need it. My abuela (grandmother) used to take it every night right before bed.”
A man holding a medication bottle | Source: Midjourney
The fear drained out of me, replaced by embarrassment. But my hands were still trembling. “Oh,” I said weakly. “I… I forgot. Thank you.”
He nodded and placed the bottle on the nightstand before backing out of the room. “Good night,” he said softly, and then he was gone.
My body slumped back onto the bed, and I stared at the bottle for hours, feeling foolish yet grateful. I had assumed the worst about him, and all he had wanted to do was make sure I was okay.
A bottle of medication on a nightstand | Source: Midjourney
The next morning, I made pancakes, using the last of the blueberries I had stashed in the freezer. Carlos came into the kitchen, looking unsure of himself, and sat down at the table.
“Merry Christmas,” I said, sliding a small box across.
“What’s this?” he asked, looking genuinely surprised.
“Open it.”
He unwrapped the present slowly, pulling out the scarf I had knitted years ago. It was red and white, nothing fancy, but it was warm.
A man with a present | Source: Midjourney
“Thank you,” he said again, running his fingers over the soft yarn. He wrapped it around his neck immediately and smiled.
We ate in mostly silence while I wondered how to bring up the subject of last night. I wanted to thank him and apologize for having been scared.
But after Carlos finished his pancakes, he stood up. He walked to the door where he’d left his duffel bag and slung it over his shoulder.
“Where are you going?” I asked, frowning.
A woman at breakfast table | Source: Midjourney
“You really helped me last night, ma’am,” Carlos said, licking his lips. “Thank you. But I should go now.”
“Where will you go?”
He hesitated with one hand on the doorknob. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I’ll figure something out.”
“Wait,” I said, standing. “Why don’t you stay? Help me around the house, make sure I take my pills. I could use the company.”
“Really?” he asked, hope flickering in his eyes.
A man looking hopeful | Source: Midjourney
“Of course,” I said. “You shouldn’t be out there on Christmas day, either. You can also work around the house as your way of paying for room and board. What do you say?”
Carlos simply smiled and set down his duffel bag again.
***
Over the next few weeks, we settled into a rhythm. Carlos was quiet and respectful, always making sure to keep his space tidy and never overstepping.
A man smiling | Source: Midjourney
We even had a great New Year’s Eve together. And although I didn’t push, I was happy when he started to open up.
One night, in January, as we sat by the fire, he finally told me about his past. His troubles began when his parents kicked him out.
“They didn’t understand me,” he said hesitantly. “They thought I was wasting my life with art. They wanted me to study something practical, like engineering or medicine. When I said no, they told me I wasn’t welcome in their house anymore.”
A man sitting by the fireplace | Source: Midjourney
So, he’d been ousted for pursuing his passion, of his dream of becoming an artist. Then life had dealt him another cruel blow.
A roommate had stolen everything he owned, like his few meager savings, and even items belonging to the landlord, before disappearing. He was later evicted for being unable to replace the stolen items. Finally, he lost his job simply for being homeless.
“I probably would’ve frozen out there if it weren’t for you,” he said with a soft sigh.
A man smiling while sitting by a fireplace | Source: Midjourney
How could this world be so cruel?
I reached over and put my hand on his. “You don’t have to worry about that anymore. You’re safe here.”
***
Now here we are. It’s a year later, and here’s what has happened.
With my help, Carlos found a new job and a small apartment nearby. He became a regular visitor, bringing laughter back into the house. He even charmed my son, daughter-in-law, and granddaughter.
As we decorated the Christmas tree together, I realized how much my life had changed. Carlos was no longer a stranger I’d taken in; he was family.
A woman decorating a Christmas tree | Source: Midjourney
And while he always says I saved his life, the truth is that he’d saved mine.
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
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