When Liam throws a surprise birthday party for his wife, Lora, he gets the biggest shock when she brings over an uninvited guest—a man who’s been absent from Lora’s life for years. Why was he there and what did he want?
My wife loves surprises. Every year for her birthday or Valentine’s Day, I try to surprise her because I know how much it means to her. Her eyes light up like a child’s, making every special occasion an opportunity for something extraordinary.
A blindfolded young woman | Source: Midjourney
“I love how well you know me, Liam,” she would say. “You always get it right!”
“You’re worth it all, Lora,” I said.
So, this year, for her birthday, I planned a surprise that I hoped would be unforgettable. Pretending to be away on a business trip, I called her the day before her birthday to say that I’d be home late.
A man on the phone | Source: Midjourney
“You’re not coming back tomorrow?” Lora’s voice carried disappointment that broke my heart.
“I’m so sorry, love,” I said, laying on the regret. “Work got hectic, but I’ll make it up to you. How about a spa weekend when I’m back?”
There was a pause then Lora let out a resigned sigh.
A smiling couple at a spa | Source: Midjourney
“Fine, but you owe me big time, Liam,” she said in a huff.
“Oh, darling, you’re going to love it,” I assured her, smiling at the thought of her reaction to the real surprise.
As soon as I hung up, I swung into action, calling our close friends and relatives to invite them to a surprise party at our apartment.
A man holding a tablet | Source: Midjourney
I’d been planning it for a while, but I just needed to remind everyone.
“Yes, of course, Liam!”
“We’ll be there!”
“I’ll bring wine!”
An excited person on the phone | Source: Midjourney
Everyone was in on it, and the place buzzed with excitement as we decorated, set up food, and waited for Lora’s arrival.
“Do you think she’ll suspect anything?” asked Karen, her best friend, as she hung the streamers.
“No way,” I replied confidently. “She thinks I’m out of town until tomorrow.”
A woman hanging streamers | Source: Midjourney
Finally, we heard footsteps in the hallway and the sound of her laughter. I frowned, puzzled.
“Who could she be with?” I asked Karen. “If it’s not you or me, then it’s very strange…”
“Maybe her sisters?” Karen asked.
A frowning man holding balloons | Source: Midjourney
“No, they’re going to be here. They did say that they’d be a bit late because they’re going to pick up Lora’s present.”
The door opened, and as Lora stepped in, we all jumped out.
“Surprise!” we shouted.
People at a surprise party | Source: Midjourney
But the joy was short-lived.
Gasps filled the room as everyone stared at the man standing beside Lora. It was Michael.
Michael was Lora’s father who had recently been released from prison. The shock on everyone’s faces mirrored the shock and confusion I felt.
A group of shocked people | Source: Midjourney
Lora had never mentioned anything about her father being back in her life.
“Look, he’s in prison, Liam,” she told me when we spoke about her father one night over dinner. “That’s all I have to say about it.”
“But what did he do?” I asked. “Why did he go to prison? Was it that bad?”
A couple eating together | Source: Midjourney
But Lora just shook her head and refused to answer.
Years later, Lora began speaking about it and the turmoil that Michael had caused her family. Michael had been imprisoned for embezzlement, having stolen a significant amount of money from the company where he worked.
“That ruined us, Liam,” Lora said to me in tears.
An upset woman | Source: Midjourney
The scandal had not only disgraced him but also brought shame and financial hardship to their family.
Now, seeing her laugh and at ease in his presence confused me. And for a moment, I felt betrayed. At that moment, I almost wished she had brought home another man.
Anything but this.
A shocked man | Source: Midjourney
“Lora, what’s going on?” I asked her, unable to hide the edge in my voice.
Lora, looking nervous and caught off guard by the crowd’s reaction, spoke first.
“Everyone, this is my dad, Michael. I know that most of you have heard about him, but here he is. Finally out of prison. He… he just wanted to apologize to me.”
A woman standing next to her father | Source: Midjourney
Michael, clearly uncomfortable to have an audience, took a deep breath and addressed the room.
“I know I’ve caused a lot of pain to Lora, to her mom, Nancy, and the rest of our family. But I’ve spent my years in prison working on myself. I know that when our financial issues began, I took it out on my family. I’ve been trying to overcome my trauma and stop being so aggressive. I’m truly sorry for everything.”
The room was silent. Michael’s words hung in the air. It was as if time had stopped, and everyone had held their breath to process the unexpected turn of events.
A close-up of a man talking | Source: Midjourney
“I understand if you don’t want to forgive me, but I wanted to make amends. I want to be a part of Lora’s life. Of all my children’s lives. I just started my apology tour with Lora because she’s the eldest. I’m here to show that I’ve changed.”
I didn’t know how to react. I didn’t know what my thoughts were. On one hand, I believed him. There was something about his words and body language that made him genuine.
But could he change?
A pensive young man | Source: Midjourney
As he turned to leave, I caught a glimpse of Lora’s face. She looked torn and on the verge of tears. But there was a glimmer of hope in her eyes.
Despite everything, she wanted to give him a chance.
“Michael, wait,” I called out, surprising myself with the firmness in my voice. “Stay. If Lora wants you here, then you should be here.”
A smiling man | Source: Midjourney
Michael looked at me, stunned, then turned to Lora, who had tears streaming down her cheeks.
“Thank you, darling,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.
I nodded.
“If this is what makes you happy, then I’m willing to try and make this work,” I said.
Michael, visibly moved, nodded as well.
A close-up of a smiling woman | Source: Midjourney
“Thank you, Liam. I promise I won’t let you down,” he said.
As the evening wore on, the atmosphere gradually shifted from tense to awkward to cautiously hopeful. But once the platters of food came out, everyone seemed to be calmer.
“Lora, are you sure about this?” Karen asked when we were in the kitchen getting more bottles of wine.
Lora sighed, her gaze drifting to her father.
Platters of food | Source: Midjourney
“Yes, he’s my dad, and he’s trying to make things right. I want to give him a chance,” she said.
I stood back, watching as Lora and Michael hugged, both of them in tears.
“Come on,” I said. “It’s time for the birthday cake!”
We carried out the birthday cake for Lora, and nobody sang louder than Michael, who seemed genuinely proud and happy to be there.
A birthday cake with candles | Source: Midjourney
As the party wound down, Michael stood up to address everyone.
“I want to thank you all for giving me this opportunity. I know it will take time to earn your trust. But I promise you, I am committed to making amends and being a better person and father.”
There was a hesitant round of applause, more out of politeness than genuine acceptance, but it was a start.
Later, when everyone was gone, Lora and I stood on the balcony together, taking in the final moments of her birthday.
A couple standing on a balcony | Source: Midjourney
“I’m so grateful that you welcomed my father, Liam,” she said. “I know what I said, but I think that it’s time to heal from the past. You know?”
“I know,” I agreed. “I think that Michael needs to meet the adult Lora. Not the version of you that he knew before he went to prison.”
She nodded as she held her glass of champagne.
A woman holding a glass of champagne | Source: Midjourney
“And anyway, I promised to help him find a new apartment soon. Will you help me? It will be something small and simple.”
“Of course, honey,” I said, embracing her.
A small apartment | Source: Midjourney
What would you have done?
I Looked After My Elderly Neighbor, but Her Son Blamed Me for Not Doing Enough – The Fallout Was Harsh
Debbie, living in a quiet neighborhood, becomes close to her elderly neighbor, Mrs. Jenkins, and begins to care for her. But when Deb’s mother has to undergo surgery, she has no option but to go home and care for her mother… only for her to receive a horrible phone call from Steve, Mrs. Jenkins’ son, accusing her of not doing enough.
Look, I didn’t want revenge on anybody, especially not for just being kind to an elderly neighbor.
I live in a quiet neighborhood, and my next-door neighbor, Mrs. Jenkins, is an 82-year-old widow. She’s frail, lonely, and honestly, sad. It’s like she’s been forgotten by her own family. Her only son, Steve, lives just 20 minutes away but rarely visits.
Whenever I saw her on the porch, she seemed so lost, staring off into the distance. My heart went out to her, so I started helping where I could.
For over a year, I’ve been running small errands. Groceries, appointments, clearing her driveway of leaves in the fall and snow in the winter.
“I don’t know what I’d do without you, Debbie,” she said to me one morning after I dropped off her groceries, including some freshly baked bread for her breakfast.
“I’m here for anything you need, Marlene,” I said.
Honestly, it wasn’t much, but I felt good knowing that I was helping. Especially since her real family was so absent.
“Steve?” she said one day when I asked about him. “That kid means everything to me, but I know I don’t mean as much to my son. It’s okay. You’re here.”
She would always smile like I was her favorite person.
This man, who barely knew his mother’s daily life, had the audacity to accuse me of not doing enough.
But things took a dark turn when I had to leave town for a few weeks. I couldn’t help it, my mother was in the hospital after being diagnosed with fibroids and cysts that needed to be removed.
I had to be there with her. There was no way about it.
“I’m coming, Mom,” I said. “Don’t you worry about a thing.”
“But, Deb,” my mother whined. “I don’t want to disturb your routine. Dad’s here, I’ll be fine with him.”
“Mom, I work from home. I can work from anywhere,” I said sternly. “And anyway, Dad’s idea of taking care of someone is making chicken noodle soup. That’s pretty much it. You’re going for invasive surgery. You need me.”
Before I left, I stocked Mrs. Jenkins’ house with groceries, made sure that she had everything she needed, and asked our neighbor Karen to check in on her from time to time.
“I’ll be back as soon as I can, Marlene,” I said. “Don’t you worry about a thing. And I’ve asked little Josh to come over and check your mail. He knows that if there’s anything in your mailbox, he has to bring it right to you.”
“Thank you, darling,” she said. “You’re too good to me.”
I thought I’d covered all my bases.
Ten days into my stay with my parents, my phone rang while I was cooking dinner. I didn’t recognize the number, but I picked up anyway.
“Debbie?” the voice snapped when I answered. “Are you the neighbor who’s supposed to be taking care of my mom?”
It was Steve. Mrs. Jenkins’ son. The man who barely showed up for his own mother.
For a second, I got nervous, hoping that nothing had happened to her.
“I just got a call from my mother,” he continued, not even stopping for me to speak. “She ran out of milk. And you’re out of town? Why didn’t you make sure she had enough before you left?”
I was absolutely floored. This man, who barely knew his mother’s daily life, had the audacity to accuse me of not doing enough.
Me?
“Steve,” I said, trying to remain calm. “I’m out of town because my mom is in the hospital. This is where I need to be. I stocked your mom up before I left. And I spoke to Karen, our neighbor, to check on her.”
Instead of apologizing or offering to help like any normal person, he shot back.
“Well, that’s just not good enough, Debbie. If you’re going to take care of my mother, then you need to do it right! I can’t be running around getting her things whenever you drop the ball.”
I almost screamed. The audacity of this man was astounding.
How could he accuse me of dropping the ball when I’d been doing everything for her? Especially while he sat back and did nothing!
I took a deep breath.
“Steve, she’s your mother. You can’t expect me to do everything for her while you’re right there, and do nothing! Maybe you should help her out for once.”
His response was just sad.
“You’re pathetic,” he said. “You don’t even do that much for her.”
Before I could retaliate, I just cut the call. I didn’t want to say anything worse, and I also didn’t want to risk it getting back to Marlene and upsetting her.
Later, as I sat with my mom in her hospital room, I couldn’t stop replaying that conversation. By the time I got home, I knew exactly what I needed to do.
“Go home, honey,” my mother said when I told her about Steve’s phone call. “I’m doing just fine, and my progress is great. The doctor is really happy with me. I told you, Dad and I will be fine!”
I really didn’t want to leave, but I missed my own home. And I missed working from my own space, too. So, I left a few days later.
When I got back, the first thing I did was check on Mrs. Jenkins. Thankfully, she was fine. It turns out that Karen had taken care of the milk situation, and Mrs. Jenkins had no idea about the chaos Steve had stirred up.
“What? Really? He said that?” she exclaimed, shocked.
Steve had to step up. He was not happy about it. Not at all.
As glad as I was that Steve hadn’t fed her any stories about me, I wasn’t going to allow him to get away with this.
The next day, I gently told Mrs. Jenkins that I wouldn’t be able to help her as much anymore.
“I have other commitments, Marlene,” I said sadly. “I have to check on my mother more often, too. She’s going to need me for the next few weeks.”
She looked disappointed, but she reassured me that she understood.
A few weeks went by, and Steve had no choice but to step up. Naturally, he wasn’t happy about it. Sometimes, as I worked from my living room, I could see him showing up to his mother’s house. He always looked irritated, like running an errand for his mother was the biggest burden anyone could have placed on him.
When I did visit Mrs. Jenkins next, she smiled and told me that she was relying on Steve more.
“I call him for everything,” she said. “Milk, teabags, and even help with the gutters.”
One afternoon, Mrs. Jenkins asked me to help her sort through some old papers. That’s when we stumbled upon her will.
Naturally, Steve was listed as the sole beneficiary.
“It’s a shame that Steve cannot spend more time with you,” I said casually. “You know, with work and whatnot.”
“I know, dear,” Mrs. Jenkins sighed. “But he’s been like that. Sometimes I think he only sticks around for what I’ll leave him.”
That was all the confirmation I needed.
“You know, Marlene,” I said. “You don’t have to leave everything to Steve. It might be nice to donate some to charity or leave something for the people who have always been there for you. That’s a sweet gesture. Think about it.”
“You’re right, Debbie,” she said. “I’ll think about it.”
A week later, Mrs. Jenkins updated her will. Steve still got his share, but she also included several charities to get vast portions of her estate. She left a little something for me, too, though I didn’t ask for it.
It wasn’t about the money. It was about showing Steve that neglect and greed have consequences.
When Steve found out, he stormed to my house, knocking furiously on my door.
“You convinced my mother to give away my inheritance? You manipulative little…”
I cut him off before he could finish his sentence.
“I didn’t convince her of anything. Maybe if you spent more time with her, you’d know what she really wanted.”
Steve spluttered, his face turning red. He shouted a few more insults and stormed off, but I could see it in his eyes.
He knew that he had lost.
Now, the lovely Mrs. Jenkins is happier than ever, and I’m taking her to the ballet later this week. Steve is sulking, likely regretting all the time he wasted.
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And as for me? I’m happy knowing that Mrs. Jenkins isn’t being taken advantage of by Steve.
Sometimes, the best revenge is just letting someone realize their own failure.
What would you have done?
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