As Misha and Jerry sliced into the cake at their gender reveal party, expecting to see a telltale blue or pink sponge, they were shocked to find the cake was black inside. As they recovered from the surprise, they finally understood why Jerry’s mother, Nancy, had made such an odd choice—though the reason was even more absurd than they could have imagined.
This was supposed to be one of the happiest moments of our lives. After two years of trying, endless doctor visits, and more tears than I could count, we were finally pregnant. It felt like everything was falling into place, like the universe had finally decided to give us our happily ever after.
“This is it, Misha,” Jerry said to me the night before the party. “We’re finally going to complete our family.”
“I know,” I said, smiling. “I can’t wait for our little one to come and turn our world upside down.”
We wanted to make the gender reveal special, so we decided on a big party. We invited family from both sides, hired a bakery for the cake, and handed the ultrasound results to Jerry’s mom, Nancy. She was thrilled to be in charge.
“I’ve got everything under control, Misha,” Nancy promised. “I’ll take care of the cake and get a special gift for my grandbaby. I just know it’s going to be a girl—I’m ready to spoil her rotten!”
Nancy had been eager to be involved ever since we announced the pregnancy, so it felt good to let her handle the cake. I was grateful she felt included.
As my mom and I set up for the party, the house was transformed into a Pinterest-perfect setting—pink and blue balloons tied to every chair, platters of food arranged on the table, and a banner that read, “He or She? Let’s See!” It was everything I had ever dreamed of.
The final touch was the beautiful white cake at the center of the room, ready for the big reveal. Jerry’s whole family was there—his cousins, brother, aunt—filling the house with excitement and chatter.
When Nancy arrived, I noticed she was dressed all in black. It struck me as strange, but I didn’t think much of it. Maybe she thought black was slimming or elegant. Who knew?
As everyone gathered around the cake, the energy in the room buzzed with anticipation. Phones were out, cameras ready to capture the big moment.
Jerry put his arm around me. “Ready?” he whispered.
“Let’s do this,” I grinned.
The countdown began.
“Three… two… one!”
We cut into the cake, expecting to see pink or blue inside. But when we pulled out the first slice, the room went silent. The cake was pitch black.
Not a hint of pink. Not a touch of blue. Just black.
My heart sank. Was this some kind of joke? No one was laughing. Everyone stood frozen, unsure whether to keep recording or put their phones down.
I glanced at Jerry, who looked just as confused as I felt. Then my eyes landed on Nancy, standing off to the side. She was dressed head to toe in black—black dress, black scarf, black shoes—and now she looked like she was… crying?
“Nancy?” I called out, frowning.
She wiped her eyes with a tissue, her makeup smudging. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t know what else to do.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, my voice rising. “Why would you order a black cake?”
Jerry stepped in, his confusion turning to frustration. “Mom, what’s going on?”
Nancy dabbed at her eyes, trembling. “It’s not about the cake. It’s what I was told… I couldn’t risk it.”
“What are you talking about?” Jerry asked, his patience wearing thin.
Nancy took a deep breath. “Ten years ago, I visited a fortune teller with my sister. She told me something terrifying—that if my first grandchild was a boy, it would destroy your family, Jerry. And I’d be struck with a terrible illness.”
The room gasped. Jerry’s jaw dropped. “You’ve believed that nonsense for ten years?”
Nancy nodded, wringing her hands. “I know it sounds crazy, but I couldn’t ignore it. She was famous in our town—everyone said her predictions were always right.”
I stared at her, stunned. “So you sabotaged our gender reveal because of a fortune teller?”
Nancy hung her head. “I thought if it was a boy, maybe the black cake would… stop the curse. I even put bay leaves in it, hoping it would change something.”
I pressed my fingers to my temple, trying to process the absurdity. I knew Nancy could be a bit eccentric, but this? This was beyond anything I’d imagined.
Jerry let out a sharp breath. “Mom, you let a con artist control your decisions for ten years?”
Nancy’s lip quivered as she crumbled under the weight of her fear. “I was terrified of losing you. I couldn’t bear the thought that something bad would happen to your family because of me.”
Before anyone could respond, Jerry’s cousin Megan, who had been scrolling through her phone, chimed in.
“Wait, was it J. Morris? That fortune teller?”
Woman buys abandoned lighthouse and turns it into cozy “nautical” home
Picture owning your very own lighthouse, a majestic beacon overlooking a vast bay, embodying both hope and history.
Sheila Consaul, a 65-year-old aficionado of historic preservation, turned this dream into reality.
For a sum of $71,000, Sheila purchased a derelict lighthouse in Fairport Harbor, Ohio, and embarked on a journey that would see her invest over $300,000 in transforming it into her dream vacation home.
Living in a lighthouse is far from ordinary; solitude greets you at every turn.
Forget about a driveway leading to the front door; instead, you park half a mile away and transport everything you need by hand, from groceries to generator fuel. Yet, the experience, once embraced, is unparalleled.
Sheila’s journey began from her passion for historic preservation and a desire for a unique summer retreat.
Upon discovering that the government was auctioning off lighthouses, she saw an opportunity to merge her interests.
Though the lighthouse she acquired was in a sorry state, with cracked windows and peeling plaster, Sheila remained undeterred.
With the aid of a home equity loan, she embarked on a challenging yet fulfilling renovation project.
Renovating the lighthouse presented numerous challenges; every construction material had to be hoisted by crane and transported by boat due to its remote location.
Furthermore, being entirely off the grid posed additional hurdles; rebuilding the electrical system and relying on a gasoline-powered generator were just a few of Sheila’s tasks.
Despite these obstacles, the transformation is remarkable.
Today, the lighthouse boasts a fully equipped kitchen with granite countertops and modern appliances.
The plumbing and electrical systems have been overhauled, while the once-broken windows now showcase stunning stained glass.
However, preserving its historical essence was equally paramount.
Original features like dark brown floorboards and cast-iron stairs remain intact, alongside innovations such as a rainwater collection system.
Since 2012, Sheila has welcomed guests to the lighthouse, hosting annual open houses and sharing this community treasure with others.
Maintained by the Coast Guard and still serving as a navigational aid, the lighthouse stands as a testament to community and heritage.
Would Sheila embark on this journey again? Perhaps not, but the rewards have been immeasurable.
While she currently has no plans to rent out her unique summer home, she remains open to the possibility.
For now, she revels in the fruits of her labor and the extraordinary experience of lighthouse living.
Sheila Consaul’s story exemplifies what happens when perseverance and passion converge.
She didn’t just acquire a property; she rescued a historical gem, ensuring it endures for generations to come.
Take a virtual tour of the lighthouse in the accompanying video below!
Feel free to share this remarkable tale with your loved ones.
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