A man is accused of being the father of a baby abandoned on his doorstep and it costs him his marriage and his way of life.
Kyle Greenbecker had spent a year working on an oil pipeline in Alaska, but finally, he was on his way home to his beautiful wife. He and Lisa met in high school, and Kyle had never regretted marrying her at nineteen.
Maybe he was old-fashioned, but Kyle was proud that Lisa was the only woman he’d been intimate with in his life. He didn’t need and didn’t want anyone else. It never occurred to him that Lisa would ever doubt him — and with good reason.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash
When his plane landed, Kyle collected his luggage and walked out with the other passengers, scanning the crowd for Lisa’s beloved face, but she wasn’t there to pick him up.
Probably, Kyle thought, she’d been held up at work with some emergency. He sent her a quick text telling her he was on his way home but got no reply. He hopped into an Uber and in an hour he was walking up to his front door.
The lights were on in the lounge, but Lisa wasn’t there. He made his way to the kitchen and stopped in the doorway, stunned. Resting on top of the kitchen table was a bassinet, and Kyle could see a small arm waving aimlessly.
He took a step closer. There was a bassinet with a baby on his kitchen table! The child was looking back at Kyle with that astonished look babies have, and Kyle stared back just as astonished.
Then he saw a folded paper on the table next to the bassinet. He picked it up and unfolded it. Inside was another sheet of paper with a message in a handwriting he didn’t recognize: “You had your fun, now take responsibility for your child.”
Meanwhile, the note addressed to him in Lisa’s elegant script read:
For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash
“Kyle, yesterday I found this child on our doorstep with that note attached. I always suspected you cheated on me during your business trips, but I didn’t hold a grudge on you for that — after all, I had plenty of flings while you were away — but saddling me with someone else’s byblow is too much. I’ve filed for a divorce, and I earnestly hope I will never see you again.
“P.S. And about the baby, don’t worry, I only left when I saw you walk up the drive. Enjoy your life, Kyle, I certainly intend to enjoy mine.”
Kyle sat down and dropped his head in his hands. He couldn’t believe this was happening to him. This child wasn’t his, he’d never cheated on Lisa, ever! A soft cooing sound made him raise his head.
The baby was waving its little hand in the air, so Kyle brought his own hand closer and to his surprise, the child grabbed onto his index finger with incredible strength.
“Well, baby,” Kyle said. “I guess it’s just us two, and I don’t know what to do with you!”
The baby cooed again and gurgled, then screwed up his face in an alarming way and turned bright red. “Oh my God!” cried Kyle. “What’s happening?” A certain smell quickly elucidated him.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash
Yep, it was diaper time. But was there even a diaper? On the floor next to the table was a large backpack with several snap pockets that he’d never seen before. Kyle found a bewildering array of items inside and the diapers.
He quickly googled diaper change and watched carefully as a woman on YouTube demonstrated on a life-like doll how to change a diaper.
Kyle started following her instructions but things didn’t run that smoothly. The woman’s life-like doll didn’t move its legs, or sink its kicking heels in the stinking and unmentionable contents of the dirty diaper! After wiping the baby clean, Kyle realized it was a girl, and he didn’t know anything about girls!
“I won’t be giving you dating advice,” he told the baby solemnly. “But I can teach you how to ride a bike.”
Kyle realized in that moment that he intended to keep this baby.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash
He picked up the freshly diapered baby and said, “You need me, and I guess I need you too. So how about it, kid?”
Kyle once again consulted the YouTube baby-guru to prepare the formula and settled the baby in the crook of his arm for her feed.
“You need a name, you know that? How about… Celeste? Do you like that? Or Lily…”
If anyone had told Kyle that he would settle into fatherhood so easily and so smoothly he would never have believed it. Lily had her moments and her tantrums, but somehow things worked out.
Kyle registered Lily as his child and enrolled her in daycare. For him, her birthday was on the day he’d found her. But it was on Lily’s second birthday that Kyle’s world fell apart.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash
A woman knocked on her door. “I’ve come for my baby,” she said. Kyle just looked at her. She was tall, blonde, and thin, with huge breasts that were obviously a product of a plastic surgeon’s art.
“Your what?” Kyle asked.
A real parent is the one who loves and cherishes the child.
“My baby,” she snapped. “I left her here two years ago? Sorry about that, but I was a bit stoned and my boyfriend lives on the next block over and I got confused. You know how it is!”
“Sorry, I don’t know how that is because I’ve never abandoned a child on anyone’s doorstep,” Kyle said coldly. “I’d get a move on if I were you, or I’ll call the police.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash
“Now look here,” the woman said sharply. “I figured I made a mistake about a week later when Burt didn’t take my calls, but now I need that baby!”
“You need her?” asked Kyle angrily. “What do you need her for?”
“Burt just got himself a Major League contract,” the woman said. “And that baby’s gone make sure some of those millions land in my bank account!”
Kyle ran the woman off, but he had a feeling he hadn’t seen the last of her. He was right. A week later he was summoned to family court. A Miss Cherish Vegas was contesting his adoption of baby Lily.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash
Suddenly, Kyle was showered with injunctions, was visited by Social Services at odd hours of the day or night, and his friends and co-workers were being questioned. Cherish really meant to get her hands on those millions!
Finally, the day of the hearing arrived. Kyle nervously handed over Lily to the social worker for the duration of the hearing and walked in. Cherish was there, of course, and a tall man with Lily’s blue eyes was on her side of the court. This could only be the famous Burt!
Cherish cried and sniveled and told the judge how much she loved and missed her baby, and how her wild college days (now long past and deeply regretted) had led her to place her in Kyle’s care.
The judge looked down at the papers in front of her. “By in his care, you mean on his porch, isn’t that right, Miss Vegas?” asked the judge.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
Cherish flushed red. “Well, I’m still her mama! No one can deny that!” she screamed.
The judge looked at Burt. “You sir, you are the father?”
Burt lumbered to his feet and said, “I guess I must be…”
The judge fixed him with a flinty eye. “Are you prepared and able to take on the parental responsibilities for this child?”
Cherish screamed, “You bet he is, judge, he just signed a three million dollar contract to play ball…”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash
“Oh!” cried the judge. “Finally, the truth is out! Tell me, Miss Vegas, what name did you give your daughter?”
“Name?” asked Cherish, confused. “Why, she’ll have her daddy’s name., since he’ll be paying child support!”
Kyle stood up. “Your honor,” he said. “May I address the court?”
“Yes, Mr. Greenbecker,” said the judge. “Please do.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash
“Ma’am, my daughter’s name is Lily, and she does have her father’s name — mine. Since the moment that child came into my life I’ve loved her, and she loves me.”
At that moment, Lily, who had been playing with the social worker’s necklace noticed that Kyle was standing up. “Daddy!” she cried and stretched out her arms.
“Well, ladies and gentlemen, it seems to me that the case has been decided by the principal party,” the judge said. “I hereby overturn all claims of custody of the child Lily Grennbecker and confirm Kyle Greenbecker’s custody and adoption.
That night, Kyle celebrated his victory in court and he and Lily spent the evening catching lightning bugs in the garden. “Stars!” cried Lily. But for Kyle, the brightest star of all was his little girl.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash
What can we learn from this story?
- A real parent is one who loves and cherishes the child. Kyle took care of Lily and loved her as if she were his own.
- A heartless woman will use anyone, even her child, for profit. Cherish didn’t want Lily, she just wanted Burt’s money.
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If you enjoyed this story, you might like this one about a man who taught his son how to be the best husband in the world.
This account is inspired by our reader’s story and written by a professional writer. Any resemblance to actual names or locations is purely coincidental. All images are for illustration purposes only. Share your story with us; maybe it will change someone’s life.
Entitled Hotel Guest Mocked My Mom Who Works as a Maid, so She Taught Her Never to Mess with Housekeeping Again
Entitled Hotel Guest Mocked My Mom Who Works as a Maid, so She Taught Her Never to Mess with Housekeeping Again
When a devoted hotel maid is tormented by a wealthy and arrogant guest, she devises a plan that turns the tables in the most unexpected way. Instead of seeking revenge with anger, she orchestrates a quiet but powerful act of defiance that forces the cruel woman to face the bitter consequences of her actions.
Woman cleaning a hotel room | Source: Pexels
My mother has always been a source of inspiration for me. As a maid at a fancy local hotel, she takes immense pride in her work. She treats every room as if it were her own, ensuring everything is spotless and welcoming for the guests.
Recently, however, she had an encounter that tested her patience like never before. It all started on a seemingly ordinary day. My mother was assigned to clean room 256, which was occupied by a young woman named Ms. Johnson.
Woman in uniform beside hotel room bed | Source: Pexels
From the moment she stepped into the room, my mother could sense the woman’s dislike for her. Ms. Johnson lounged on the bed, scrolling through her phone, barely acknowledging my mother’s presence.
As my mother meticulously cleaned the room, making sure every surface was spotless, Ms. Johnson suddenly knocked her coffee cup off the table, sending dark liquid spilling onto the freshly mopped floor. She didn’t even flinch. Instead, she looked my mother straight in the eye and sneered, “Clean that up!”
Coffee mug falling | Source: Pexels
My mother’s heart sank. She had worked so hard to make the room perfect, only to see her efforts so carelessly undone. But she knew she couldn’t afford to lose her job. It provided her with a sense of independence and stability for our family.
A person vacuuming a rug | Source: Pexels
Swallowing her pride, she silently cleaned the floor again, all while feeling Ms. Johnson’s piercing gaze on her. As she worked, the woman laughed. The mocking giggle echoed through the room. “Well done for a maid. You didn’t even talk back to me,” she taunted, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Tomorrow, I’ll come up with something more interesting for you.”
Woman standing near table with pastries | Source: Pexels
My mother finished her task, holding back tears. She knew showing any sign of distress would only give the woman more satisfaction. That night, as she recounted the story to me, I could see the hurt in her eyes. But there was also a spark of determination. She wasn’t going to let this entitled guest break her spirit.
Mother and daughter sitting at the table holding hands | Source: Pexels
The next day, my mother went to work with a plan. She knew Ms. Johnson would try to humiliate her again, but this time, she was ready. She was determined to show this woman that kindness and respect were not weaknesses and that underestimating the resolve of someone who works with dignity and pride was a grave mistake.
Woman holding a plastic basin with cleaning materials | Source: Pexels
Around mid-morning, my mother walked into room 256 with a steely determination. She had a plan. Sure enough, there she was, Ms. Johnson, reclining on the bed, her smirk already in place.
“Oh, look who’s back,” Ms. Johnson said, her voice dripping with disdain. “Let’s see what mess I can make for you today.” She reached for her coffee cup, a mischievous glint in her eyes.
Woman leaning on handrail in a hotel room | Source: Pexels
My mother kept her composure. She knew what to expect. Without a word, she began her cleaning routine, methodically and efficiently, refusing to rise to the bait. As she moved around the room, she noticed something important: Ms. Johnson’s laptop was left open on the table, the screen glowing with unattended work.
“Excuse me, ma’am,” my mother said in her most polite tone. “I need to dust the table. Would you mind closing your laptop?”
Person using phone with laptop on desk | Source: Pexels
Ms. Johnson huffed and rolled her eyes. “Fine,” she muttered, snapping the laptop shut and placing it to the side with an exaggerated sigh. “But hurry up. I have important work to do.”
“Of course, ma’am,” my mother replied, her voice steady.
Woman relaxing in a hotel room | Source: Pexels
“You’re slower than yesterday,” Ms. Johnson remarked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Do they not teach speed in maid school?” My mother ignored the jab, focusing on her task.
Ms. Johnson’s impatience was palpable, and she drummed her fingers on the bedside table. “Done yet?” Ms. Johnson snapped.
Woman tiding up a hotel room | Source: Pexels
“Almost, ma’am,” my mother replied calmly.
Just then, the door opened, and Mr. Ramirez, the hotel manager, appeared. He glanced around the room, his sharp eyes taking in the scene. “Good morning, Ms. Johnson,” he greeted her warmly.
“I trust everything is to your satisfaction?”
Hotel manager entering a room | Source: Pexels
Ms. Johnson scoffed. “It’s fine. Your maid here is just clumsy and slow.”
Mr. Ramirez frowned slightly. “I’m sorry to hear that. Our staff is trained to provide excellent service.”
“Well, maybe she needs more training,” Ms. Johnson said, casting a disdainful look at my mother.
Mr. Ramirez turned to my mother, concern evident in his eyes. “Mrs. Adams, is there a problem?”
My mother met his gaze with her calm and professional demeanor. “No, Mr. Ramirez. Everything is under control.”
A chambermaid holding a stack of towels | Source: Pexels
Mr. Ramirez nodded, though his concern lingered. “Ms. Johnson, I assure you, we will make sure your stay is as comfortable as possible.”
Ms. Johnson waved dismissively. “Just make sure she doesn’t break anything.”
Mr. Ramirez gave my mother an encouraging smile before leaving. As the door closed behind him, my mother felt a surge of quiet confidence. She was ready for whatever Ms. Johnson had in store next.
Woman fixing pillows on the bed | Source: Pexels
My mother continued her work, but she had one more trick up her sleeve. She knew Ms. Johnson would never learn unless she experienced a bit of discomfort herself.
As she finished cleaning, my mother subtly dropped a small, harmless but unpleasant-smelling packet under the bed. It was a trick she had learned from an old colleague, a mixture that would release a gradually intensifying odor over time. It wasn’t immediately noticeable, but within a few hours, it would become quite bothersome.
A tidy hotel room | Source: Pexels
“All done, ma’am,” my mother said standing up and gathering her cleaning supplies. “Have a pleasant day.”
The next morning, my mother arrived at work and was immediately greeted by the sight of Ms. Johnson in the lobby, furiously arguing with Mr. Ramirez. Her face was flushed with anger, and her voice carried through the lobby.
Man and woman standing in a hotel lobby | Source: Pexels’
“I can’t stay in that room! It smells awful! How can you expect guests to stay in such conditions?” Ms. Johnson was practically shouting, drawing the attention of other guests and staff members.
Mr. Ramirez, ever the professional, maintained his calm demeanor. “I’m very sorry to hear that, Ms. Johnson. We take such matters very seriously. We’ll investigate the cause of the smell immediately and move you to another room in the meantime.”
Two people standing at a hotel entrance | Source: Pexels
Ms. Johnson, still fuming, stormed off, her heels clicking sharply against the polished floor. Mr. Ramirez turned to my mother, who had been quietly watching the scene unfold.
“Mrs. Adams, could you please check Ms. Johnson’s room and see if you can find the source of the smell?” he asked, his voice calm but concerned. “Of course,” my mother replied, hiding a smile. She headed to room 256, her heart pounding with satisfaction.
A clean hotel room | Source: Unsplash
Inside the room, my mother quickly found the packet she had placed under the bed and discreetly removed it. She then opened the windows and turned on the fan, allowing fresh air to circulate and clear the odor. As she worked, she couldn’t help but feel a small surge of triumph. Ms. Johnson had finally tasted a bit of her own medicine.
Woman carrying a stack of towers | Source: Pexels’
As she left the room, she ran into Mr. Ramirez in the hallway. “Did you find the source of the smell?” he asked.
“Yes, Mr. Ramirez,” my mother replied. “It seems something had been left under the bed. I’ve removed it and aired out the room. It should be fine now.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Adams,” Mr. Ramirez said, a hint of relief in his voice. “You’ve done an excellent job, as always.”
Hotel worker doing room service | Source: Pexels
My mother nodded and continued with her day, knowing that sometimes, justice is served in the smallest of actions. But that wasn’t enough. My mom had one more lesson to teach Ms. Johnson.
The next day, she was assigned to help move Ms. Johnson’s belongings to another room. As usual, Mom did her job efficiently, ensuring every item was carefully placed in the new room.
Delivery man holding a cardboard box | Source: Pexels
Later that afternoon, a courier arrived with a package for room 256; Ms. Johnson’s previous room. Aware that Ms. Johnson had moved to room 312, Mom saw this as her chance to deliver a delayed but impactful lesson.
“Excuse me, sir,” she said to the courier, stepping forward with a polite smile. “The guest in room 256 has been moved to room 312. You can leave the package at the front desk, and I will ensure it gets to her.” The courier nodded, handing over the package. “Thank you. I appreciate it,” he said, already turning to leave.
A person holding a package | Source: Pexels
My mother took the package to the front desk and, with a smile, placed it in the corner behind some other deliveries, making sure it would not be found immediately.
The next day, Ms. Johnson was in a frenzy. She was preparing for her flight and an important event later that evening. Suddenly, she realized something crucial was missing. She frantically called the front desk, her voice shaking with panic.
An angry woman in aa grey tank top | Source: Pexels
“I had a package delivered to room 256. Where is it? It has my plane tickets and my dress for tonight’s event!” Ms. Johnson’s voice was a mix of anger and desperation.
The front desk clerk, taken aback by her intensity, quickly checked the records. After some confusion and a hurried search, they found the package tucked away in the corner. The clerk immediately called my mother to deliver it to Ms. Johnson’s new room, 312.
Receptionist making a phone call | Source: Pexels
My mother, with a calm and measured pace, made her way to the room. She knocked on Ms. Johnson’s door, her expression serene. The woman yanked the door open, her eyes wide with anxiety. “Where have you been? I’ve been waiting for that package!” she snapped.
“Here is your package, ma’am. It was delivered to the wrong room,” my mother said sweetly, holding out the package.
A person holding a brown box | Source: Pexels
Ms. Johnson snatched the package from her hands and ripped it open. Her face fell as she realized the delay had cost her dearly. The tickets were now useless, and she had no time to prepare for her event. Frustration and defeat were etched into her features. She could only muster a weak, “Thanks,” before slamming the door in my mother’s face.
Mom walked away, a slight smile playing on her lips. She knew she had given Ms. Johnson a taste of her own medicine, all without stepping outside the bounds of her duties. It was a quiet victory, but a deeply satisfying one.
Woman standing under a chandelier of a hotel room | Source: Pexels
When my mother told me about the incident later, I could see the relief in her eyes. “Sometimes,” she said, her voice soft but firm, “the best revenge is simply letting people experience the consequences of their own actions.”
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