When Nicole’s stepmother calls her saying that she has a gift for her, Nicole goes over excitedly. But when she discovers what the gift is, Nicole is torn between keeping her father happy or retaliating. Finally, she accepts it and plans to transform it into something completely different. In the end Nicole is ready to claim the rewards of her hard work.
Ever have one of those moments where you should’ve just trusted your gut? Yep, that was me, standing in my stepmother’s basement, staring at the ugliest, smelliest couch I’d ever seen.
A close up of a young woman | Source: Midjourney
My stepmother, Susan, called me earlier that morning with a grand gesture for my birthday. She insisted that she had a “priceless” gift that was too big for her to move alone.
“You’re going to love it, Nicole!” she said. “It’s absolutely priceless! Come over later today, and we’ll show it to you.”
Now, this is the point when I tell you that Susan and I had never been close. In fact, if I’m being honest, she barely tolerated my existence. So, imagine my absolute surprise when she offered me a gift.
A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney
“Curiosity killed the cat, Nic,” I said to myself as I got into the car.
I just wanted to see what it was, and I hoped that, for once, she might actually be genuine.
So, I get to my dad’s house, and he tells me that Susan’s busy.
“She’s sorting out the basement, honey,” he said. “Susan is finally cleaning out her clutter. It’s about time, to be honest. Come, have a cup of tea.”
A smiling older man | Source: Midjourney
“No, let me check out the gift first, Dad,” I said. “I’m so curious!”
He chuckled, oblivious to my nerves. Susan had a knack for random gifts. Last year, she gave me water bottles and socks for my birthday. I wondered if this year would be any different.
“Fine,” he said. “I’ll get Susan, and then we can have some tea and a slice of cake. Susan made lemon cake this morning.”
A slice of lemon cake | Source: Midjourney
I paced in the foyer while my dad went down to the basement. Moments later, I heard them on the stairs.
Then I saw it.
My dad and Susan were making their way out of the basement with the monstrosity of a couch. The fabric was stained and ripped, with a stench that could probably knock out an adult horse! It looked like it had been neglected for decades!
A stained yellow couch | Source: Midjourney
“Happy Birthday!” Susan beamed, as if she were handing me the keys to a new car.
My dad looked at me expectantly, hoping I’d be happy with the gift. But it was horrendous! Rejecting it would hurt him, and Susan knew it. I could see it on her face.
A close up of a man | Source: Midjourney
I swallowed my frustration and called my boyfriend to bring his van over.
“I’ll be there in about ten minutes, babe,” Derek said.
“Thank you!” I replied. “I think they want the couch out today, so I need to take it home.”
A woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney
“Not a problem, Nic,” he said. “I’m just gaming online. But I’ll be done soon.”
I knew that Susan was using me as a free dump and delivery service. That couch wasn’t fit to be in any home. But again, I was determined to keep the peace for my father.
Derek showed up as I was drinking my cup of tea, and we loaded the couch and left for my home. He was going to follow me home, and we planned on having dinner together.
A young man in a driving | Source: Midjourney
“This couch is rough,” he said. “Looks like it’s been through a storm or two.”
My initial plan was to dump it at the curb and let someone else take it, but then something shifted inside me. I wasn’t going to let Susan win.
I decided to restore the couch and give it a second life. And so began a project I ne ver thought would lead to surprising results.
A young woman with yellow rubber gloves | Source: Midjourney
First, I tackled the smell.
The couch reeked of a stench that it seemed to have a life of its own. And the odor only got stronger as the day went on.
Luckily, I found a recipe for a DIY deodorizing solution online: white vinegar, water, and a few drops of lavender essential oil. I mixed it up and sprayed it generously over the couch, letting it sit for a few hours.
Glass bottles on a counter | Source: Midjourney
The vinegar smell was overpowering, but it faded, taking most of the nasty odor with it.
Next, I had to deal with the stains.
The years of spills and neglect had left their mark, so I whipped up a cleaning concoction of baking soda, hydrogen peroxide, and a small amount of dish soap. With a soft brush in hand, I carefully scrubbed the stained areas, working the mixture into the fabric.
Different cleaning supplies on a counter | Source: Midjourney
I let it sit for about fifteen minutes before wiping it off with a damp cloth. The transformation was already noticeable. The stains were fading, and I felt optimistic about my restoration project.
But then I had to deal with the rips and tears. A simple needle and thread weren’t going to fix this.
A woman scrubbing a couch | Source: Midjourney
“Nic, you need material,” Derek said while marinating chicken in the kitchen. “There’s no other way than to do a funky patch job.”
“I agree,” I said. “Will you be fine here while I do a quick dash into town?”
Derek nodded.
“But why are you rushing?” Derek asked.
A young man in the kitchen | Source: Midjourney
“Because if I don’t, it’ll end up as another sidelined project.”
“Go,” he laughed. “I’ll finish dinner in the meantime.”
So, I went to the local thrift store and found some reasonably matching fabric, random buttons, frills, and even two throw cushions.
A young woman in a thrift shop | Source: Midjourney
I used fabric glue to patch the larger holes and an iron-on fabric mender for the smaller tears. Finally, to give the whole couch a more cohesive look, I added some decorative buttons and tufting in key areas, making it look almost intentional.
A young woman sitting on a couch and looking through buttons | Source: Midjourney
“Alright, give it a rest, Nic,” Derek said as he took the last flatbread out of the pan. “You can finish it off in the morning.”
My arms were exhausted from all the scrubbing, so I was ready to listen to Derek and just sit down and eat everything he prepared.
Flatbread on a board | Source: Midjourney
But the next morning, I was back at it. I used my steam cleaner and thoroughly steamed the couch. I spent hours going over every inch of it, bringing the fabric back to life while I imagined every germ evaporating into oblivion.
By the time I was done, the couch looked like something out of a high-end furniture store.
“Damn, Nic!” I said to myself. “Well done, girl.”
A woman steam cleaning a couch | Source: Midjourney
Feeling pretty proud of my work, I decided to post the couch on a social media marketplace for $5,000. It was almost a joke because I just wanted to see if anyone would go for it.
I loved the restoration of the couch, but I also just wanted to see if I could make some money from my DIY project.
“What on earth?!” I exclaimed when my phone buzzed with a notification. Someone named Maggie was ready to purchase my couch!
A woman holding a phone | Source: Midjourney
To my shock, within a day, I got an offer from someone in the ritzy part of town. I couldn’t believe my luck, but I accepted the offer anyway.
“This is just wonderful,” Maggie said.
The moment I agreed to the sale, she came flying over to my place to test out the couch.
“This couch is going to be perfect for my art studio! Why would you ever want to get rid of it?” she asked.
“I’m just redecorating,” I said sheepishly. “But look, it’s yours to love and enjoy.”
A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney
A few days later, Susan showed up at my doorstep, furious. She had seen the post and the fact that the couch had been purchased for $5,000.
“You ungrateful little brat! How dare you sell my gift?” she screamed.
“Susan, you gave me a piece of junk. Actual junk. I put in the time and effort to restore it. The only reason it was worth anything now is simply because of my work.”
But she didn’t back down.
A close up of an angry woman | Source: Midjourney
“It was my couch! I expect half the money since you sold it. That’s $2,500!”
I couldn’t believe her nerve.
“No, Susan. If you wanted to sell the couch, you should’ve done it yourself. The transformation and profit are all mine.”
“You’ll regret this!” she shouted, storming off.
She hasn’t come back, so I don’t know what she’s planning. But I know I’ll be getting a call from my dad soon.
A smiling young woman | Source: Midjourney
What would you have done?
If you enjoyed this story, here’s another one for you |
In-Laws Kicked Us Out of the House They Gifted After We Paid for Renovations — Then It Got Even Worse
When Mike’s parents offer him and his family a home, they are over the moon. Mike and Maria have a growing family, and they need the extra space. So, they venture into renovations, making the house a home. But one day, Mike’s parents called, wanting their home back.
When my in-laws offered us a house, we thought it was a dream come true. With three kids and a tight budget, any help came as a blessing.
A close-up of a house | Source: Midjourney
But, let me be honest with you: the house was far from ideal.
“It’s in the middle of nowhere, Mike,” I told my husband when we were sitting on the couch talking about the possibility of moving into the house.
“It’s miles away from the kids’ school and our jobs! We’ll have to leave a lot earlier just to make it on time,” I said, sighing.
A couple sitting on a couch and talking | Source: Midjourney
“I know, Maria,” my husband said. “It irritates me that the nearest grocery store is twenty minutes away. But I don’t want to seem ungrateful.”
I understood. Their gift came at the perfect time. Our little two-bedroom house was cluttered, and our three kids had to share one bedroom.
A cluttered bedroom | Source: Midjourney
“We’ll do it for the kids,” I said, taking his hand. “Whatever happens, we’ll make it work for them.”
“Think of it as a fresh start, kids,” Mike’s mom said when we went over to their home for dinner. “You’ll love the peace and quiet, and the kids will have a lot of space to run about in. This is going to be good for you.”
“Yes, Mom,” Mike said. “We agree with you. We’re looking forward to this new start and just going on a journey together as a family.”
A family sitting at a table | Source: Midjourney
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.
My 32-Year-Old Son Threw a Wild Birthday Party at My House and Nearly Destroyed It
When my son asked to throw his birthday party at my place, I said yes without thinking twice. But the next day, when my house was in ruins and my heart in pieces, my 80-year-old neighbor knew exactly what to do.
You never expect your own child to treat you like a stranger. But somewhere along the line, that’s exactly what happened with Stuart. I used to think maybe it was just the years of growing up, moving out, and being busy.
A young man smiles while laying on a couch. | Source: Midjourney
I tried not to take it personally. But deep down, I missed the boy who used to bring me daisies from the garden and help me carry groceries without being asked.
When he called — rare as that was — I didn’t expect anything more than the usual quick check-in. But that day, his tone was almost… warm.
“Hey, Mom,” he said. “I was wondering. My place is kind of cramped, and I wanted to throw a party for my birthday. Nothing crazy. Just a few friends. Could I use your house?”
A house at night | Source: Midjourney
My heart did this little leap it hadn’t done in years. I should’ve asked more questions or just said no. But all I heard was my son reaching out. I said yes.
“Of course,” I told him. “I’ll be at Martha’s anyway, so you’ll have the place to yourselves.”
I didn’t hear any loud music that night. Martha’s house was a good walk away from mine, and her garden and trees muffled most sounds.
A big estate surrounded by trees | Source: Pexels
I spent the evening helping her with her crossword puzzle and watching some old cooking show reruns.
She fell asleep in her recliner, and I curled up with a blanket in the guest room, hoping my son was having a nice time with his friends and that maybe things could change.
Maybe Stuart and I would get back to what we used to have.
I was wrong.
A woman in her 50s with a small smile | Source: Midjourney
The morning air was brisk when I stepped out of Martha’s back door. Her caretaker, Janine, was brewing coffee, and I waved goodbye, promising to bring back her glass casserole dish later.
My boots crunched softly along the gravel path as I walked home. A minute later, I saw the front of my house.
I stopped mid-step.
My front door was barely hanging on its hinges, twisted like someone had kicked it in. One of the front windows was shattered clean through.
A completely destroyed front door | Source: Midjourney
There was also burn damage on the siding, which I couldn’t figure out, and my chest tightened.
I picked up my pace, then broke into a run.
Inside was worse.
The cabinet my husband built before he passed was burned, and a chunk was missing from its side. Dishes were smashed all over the kitchen floor.
My hand-embroidered couch cushions were torn, and beer cans, broken glass, and ash littered everything.
Cans and glass shards scattered across a living room floor | Source: Midjourney
I stood frozen, keys still in my hand, wondering how a bunch of 30-somethings could wreck the place like this.
Then I saw the note.
It was sitting casually on the counter, folded in half, with a message scribbled in Stuart’s handwriting.
“We had a bit of a wild party to say goodbye to our youth. You might need to tidy up a little.”
I didn’t scream. I didn’t cry at that moment. I just dropped my keys on the floor, got my phone out, and started dialing his number. It went straight to voicemail.
A worried woman using the phone | Source: Midjourney
I tried calling again, knowing he wouldn’t listen to any messages. Finally, I had to leave him a message.
“Stuart,” I said into the phone, trying to keep my voice even but not managing at all. “You need to call me. Right now. What happened here?”
I called again.
By the tenth time, I was sobbing.
A woman with a heartbroken expression | Source: Midjourney
“Stuart! You can’t ignore me after what you’ve done! How could you?! This is the house I worked so hard to pay off and raised you in after your father died! If you don’t fix this, I swear I will sue you for every penny! Do you hear me?! I’ll sue!”
After leaving that message, I slumped to the floor, breathing roughly.
My knees felt weak, and my hands were shaking.
I closed my eyes to avoid staring at the place I’d kept up for 20 years, which now looked like one of those apocalypse movies Stuart used to watch.
A woman resting against a wall, breathing heavily with her mouth open | Source: Midjourney
I don’t know how long I sat there, surrounded by the mess. But when my breathing normalized, I stood and grabbed a dustpan from under the sink to begin sweeping broken glass, one jagged shard at a time.
Around an hour later, through the shattered window, I spotted Martha walking up the drive with her caretaker. She’d always walked in the mornings, arm linked with Janine, moving slowly but steadily.
Today, she froze.
An elderly woman and nurse with shocked expressions | Source: Midjourney
She looked at my house like she was seeing a corpse.
“Martha?” I said, stepping outside and brushing glass from my sweater. My voice cracked. “It’s… It’s bad. I let Stuart throw a party, and he trashed it. It’s a whole mess. I might not be able to come over for afternoon tea.”
Her eyes didn’t blink for a long moment. Then she placed a hand on my shoulder.
“Oh, my dear Nadine,” she said, her voice low with a kind of quiet, rising anger. “You absolutely need to come over later. We have to talk.”
An elderly woman with an upset expression | Source: Midjourney
I nodded, though I wasn’t sure what there was to talk about.
With a final nod, she turned and walked back the way she came with Janine.
A few hours later, I walked back along the same path, the long way to Martha’s estate, wiping dust from my pants and trying to look like someone who hadn’t cried all morning.
When I reached her big front door, Janine opened it with a small smile and let me in.
A grand front door | Source: Pexels
Martha was seated in her favorite wingback chair with a cup of tea balanced on her saucer. She nodded warmly at me. “Have a seat, Nadine. I’ve asked Stuart to come as well. He’ll be here any moment.”
I wasn’t sure my son would come, but true to her word, I heard the low growl of a car engine outside just a minute later.
I should’ve known. Stuart had always coveted Martha’s wealth and her house. Of course, he came running for her, while my voicemails and calls were ignored.
A man walking up a driveway, smiling | Source: Midjourney
My son strutted in, wearing sunglasses and sporting a confident smile. “Hey, Martha,” he said cheerily. “You wanted to see me?”
“Sit,” she said, gesturing to the empty couch.
He dropped onto it with a bounce, looking only at Martha while I stared daggers into his face.
Before I could say anything, my dear neighbor began speaking. “I’ve made a decision,” she started, folding her hands in her lap. “It’s time for me to move into a retirement community. I’ve resisted long enough, and Janine’s been helping me find a good one.”
People at a retirement facility | Source: Pexels
Oh, no. I was truly going to miss her.
Stuart sat up straighter. “Oh wow, yeah? That’s a big step.”
She nodded. “It is. I was going to sell the house. But then I thought, no. I’d rather give it to someone I trust.”
My son’s eyebrows shot up. He knew, just as I did, that Martha had no family left.
“I wanted to give my house to you, Stuart.”
An elderly woman sitting in a wingback chair, looking serious | Source: Midjourney
He jumped to his feet. “Are you serious?! Martha, that’s… that’s incredible! Thank you! I mean, wow, this place is amazing.”
Martha raised a hand.
“But,” she continued, and the room went still, “after I saw with my own eyes what you did to your mother’s house and the state she was in this morning… I’ve changed my mind.”
An elderly woman sitting in a wingback chair, looking serious and raising a finger | Source: Midjourney
My son froze.
Martha’s gaze moved to me. She reached out and laid a soft hand over mine but continued speaking to Stuart.
“I’m giving it to her… and the majority of my estate when I pass, so she doesn’t have to worry about money again.”
Stuart’s mouth fell open. “Wait—what?! No! We just had a bit of fun last night,” he sputtered, his voice rising with each word. “We didn’t do anything that couldn’t easily be repaired or cleaned up! C’mon, Martha, you know me. I swear, this is just a misunderstanding.”
A man yelling in a living room | Source: Midjourney
“You’d better lower your voice in my house, young man,” Martha stated firmly.
He took a step back and breathed deeply before trying to speak again. “Please… I can explain,” he started, but Martha’s hand came up again.
“No, I’ve made my decision,” she said, even more serious now. “And honestly, after what you pulled, I’m glad I never had kids of my own.”
An elderly woman sitting in a wingback chair, raising a hand | Source: Midjourney
The room went quiet after that statement, which floored me, to be honest.
I had talked to Martha several times about her life. I’d asked if she regretted not building a family to focus on making money. She never outright said she would change anything, but sometimes, her tone was wistful.
I always thought she had some doubts, but now, I knew differently. Her voice was final.
After a minute of awkward silence, my son transformed.
A man with angry eyes in a living room | Source: Midjourney
“Fine! Keep your stupid money!” he shouted, looking between us with angry, hateful eyes. “I don’t need it! I don’t need either of you!”
Then he stormed out, slamming the heavy front door behind him.
Once again, silence fell. It was different, though. The tension was gone.
But I still stared at my hands, rubbing my fingers to keep from crying, and after a second, I met Martha’s eyes.
“I don’t know what to say,” I whispered.
A woman staring sadly at someone in a living room | Source: Midjourney
She smiled gently. “You don’t have to say anything, Nadine. You earned it. You’ve been the most beautiful friend I could’ve had over the decades. No one deserves it more than you.”
I nodded and couldn’t stop myself from crying this time. But I wasn’t sure if they were happy tears or not.
I’d just received the biggest gift of my life, and even though I was so appreciative, my son had just treated me horribly.
I couldn’t be fully happy with that knowledge. I had not raised him to be that way. But there was nothing I could do right then.
So I’d have to settle for enjoying this moment… bittersweet as it was.
A woman staring thoughtfully to the side in a living room | Source: Midjourney
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