Young Woman Gets a Job as a Maid and Notices Mother’s Framed Photo in Boss’s Bedroom – Story of the Day

Caroline got a job as a cleaning lady in New York and went to her first assignment. It was a beautiful house in Manhattan, but something shocked her. There was a picture of her mother in the office. Then a man walked in.

“I’m going to do a great job,” Caroline psyched herself up in front of her first assignment. She and her friend, Melissa, moved to New York a few days ago to make their dreams of being Broadway stars come true.

But they needed to find jobs first to rent an apartment together. Luckily, Melissa got hired at a clothing store, and Caroline got a job at an agency for domestic cleaners.

It was perfect. It wasn’t that time-consuming, and she loved cleaning because it had a calming effect on her. Moreover, if no one else was home, she could practice her singing voice.

Caroline was going to her first assignment as a cleaning lady. | Source: Shutterstock

Caroline was going to her first assignment as a cleaning lady. | Source: Shutterstock

Unfortunately, her mother’s face popped into her mind before walking into her first home. Her mother, Helen, didn’t want her to chase after such silly dreams, much less live in New York.

Caroline was born and raised in Philadelphia, which wasn’t that far away. She didn’t have a father, and her mother never said a word about him. For some reason, Helen really hated New York. She also sheltered Caroline all her life, which was why she had to escape.

When she and Melissa planned their move, she knew her mother would not allow it. Caroline suspected she may even fake an illness just to get her to stay. But Caroline needed to fight for her dreams. It was her life. So, she left a tiny note on her mother’s dresser when she was asleep and ran away.

It had been several days, and Helen had not called her, which was weird. But Caroline assumed she was probably mad at her. Hopefully, she would get over it once Caroline debuted on Broadway. Now, it was time to focus on cleaning this house.

According to the agency director, an older man lives in the house alone, so it was not particularly messy in the first place. When Caroline finally walked inside using the key under the mat as was instructed, she wasted no time to start cleaning — first, the kitchen, then the living room, and moving towards the bedroom.

She noticed the pictures above the mantelpiece. | Source: Unplash

She noticed the pictures above the mantelpiece. | Source: Unplash

“I’m almost done, sir. But may I ask a question? Who is this woman?”

She hesitated a bit right at the entrance of a serious-looking office, but there were no instructions against coming in. She resolved not to touch too much around the desk and continued cleaning.

There was a beautiful fireplace with a mantelpiece on top and huge bookshelves along the opposite wall. It was the kind of office Caroline had only seen in movies.

She tidied as quickly and thoroughly as she could but stopped short at the mantelpiece. There were several pictures on top, but one caught her attention. A picture with her mother’s face. She was at least 18 years younger, but it was her. “Why is my mother in this man’s pictures?” she wondered out loud.

Suddenly, she heard footsteps and an older man entered the office. “Oh hello there! You must be the new cleaning lady. I’m Richard Smith. I own this house,” the man introduced himself with a warm smile. “Are you done in here already?”

“I’m almost done, sir. But may I ask a question?” Caroline hesitated, hoping that the man wouldn’t be mad if she asked about the image. “Who is this woman?”

The man moved closer to see what picture she was talking about. | Source: Pexels

The man moved closer to see what picture she was talking about. | Source: Pexels

“Who?” he wondered, moving closer to her and putting on his glasses. “Ah yes. That’s Helen. She was the love of my life.”

Caroline’s senses started pinging. “What happened to her?” She couldn’t help but ask.

“She died during a bus crash. She was pregnant at the time too. I couldn’t even go to the funeral because her mother hated me. It was crazy… I tried to move on and never did. To this day, I still love and miss her,” Richard responded, removing his glasses and moving towards his chair.

“Sir, I’m sorry to intrude like this, and thank you for telling me. But this woman… she looks so much like my mother. It’s insane,” Caroline revealed.

The older man frowned at her. “What do you mean?”

“Well, my mother, Helen, looks exactly like this woman. Obviously, she’s older now, but the resemblance is uncanny. I’m 98% sure this is her,” she continued, facing Richard but gesturing toward the photograph.

Richard dialed right there from his desk. | Source: Pexels

Richard dialed right there from his desk. | Source: Pexels

“Helen? Your mother’s name is Helen? Where did you grow up?”

“Philadelphia,” she answered, shrugging her shoulders. Her eyes widened now that she realized that if that was Helen, then this man might be her father.

Richard covered his mouth with his hands. “This is not possible…” he whispered. “Can I have your mother’s phone number?”

“Sure,” she said and gave it to him.

“Can you stay here while I call her?” he requested, and Caroline agreed.

He dialed right there from his office phone, and her mother’s voice answered after a few rings. “Hello? Is it you, Caroline?”

Richard looked up at Caroline for a second but decided to speak up first. “Is this Helen Geller?”

“Yes. Who am I speaking to?” Helen asked from the other end of the line.

He told her about the alleged bus crash. | Source: Pexels

He told her about the alleged bus crash. | Source: Pexels

“Helen, it’s Richard,” he continued, his voice starting to get emotional.

“Richard, who? Wait a minute. Richard Morris? What do you want after all these years?” Helen asked, her voice hardening for some reason.

Caroline and Richard started at each other in confusion, but he continued. “What do you mean after all these years? I thought you were dead!”

“What?”

Richard explained what he knew of the alleged accident when he had lost his future wife and unborn baby. He also explained how Helen’s mother didn’t allow him at the funeral and refused to tell him anything afterward. But Helen had no idea what he was talking about and told him what she knew.

“My mother told me that you called and decided you wanted nothing to do with me. So I raised my daughter on my own,” Helen revealed, and Caroline was shocked by this turn of events.

Caroline wanted to make it on Broadway first. | Source: Pexels

Caroline wanted to make it on Broadway first. | Source: Pexels

“That’s not… Helen, I would never abandon you. I never moved on. I still thought of you every day. I mourned you. I’ve been in pain thinking about you and our kid for almost two decades,” Richard continued, but Helen was quiet.

“I can’t believe Mom would do this. But well, that was her way. I don’t know what do now,” Helen finally stated. “Wait. How did you find out I was still alive?”

“Mom, I’m here,” Caroline chimed in at last. She hurriedly explained what happened and reassured her mother that she was fine in New York.

“I can’t believe this is happening at all. I can’t even ask my mother why she would do something so cruel to us. She died years ago. But anyway, when are you coming back home, Caroline?” Helen asked, in a firmer voice toward her daughter.

“I’m not coming back until I make it on Broadway. And now, well… now I have another reason to stay here,” Caroline continued, looking at Richard with a tiny smile.

They broke the ice with one silly statement. | Source: Pexels

They broke the ice with one silly statement. | Source: Pexels

“Fine, but I’m coming up to New York soon,” Helen said and hung up. Richard and Caroline started at each other in silence for a few moments before either of them spoke up.

“So, I guess you’re my dad,” she chirped. He laughed, and that’s how they broke the ice.

What can we learn from this story?

  • Let your children pursue their dreams. Caroline ran away because her mother was overprotective. You should guide your children but let them decide what to do with their lives.
  • Some parents don’t have your best interests at heart. Helen’s mother did something horrible to her and Richard, and they would never know why.

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I Was Just a Caregiver for an Elderly Lady Until She Revealed Her Plan to Rewrite the Will — Story of the Day

I thought I was just a caregiver for Mrs. Blackwood, a sharp-tongued, secretive woman, until her plan to rewrite the will in my favor, cutting out her children, pulled me into a storm of family secrets.

I was young, unemployed, and full of doubts. A nursing diploma in hand but no job prospects. Higher education in the city felt like a cruel joke. Weeks of failed interviews left me restless, staring at a bleak future.

Then, a small ad in the paper caught my eye:

“Nanny needed for an elderly lady who cannot walk. Live-in position.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

It felt like a lifeline. So, I headed to the interview.

When I arrived at the grand, slightly weathered house, the door was opened by a young man, perhaps in his early twenties.

“You must be here for the nanny position,” he said with a polite smile. “I’m Edward.”

Before I could respond, a young woman appeared behind him.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

“And I’m Emily. Grandma’s expecting you,” she added, her tone friendly but distant, as if this was a routine chore she wanted to get over with.

They were kind enough to show me inside, but it looked as though they were obligated to be welcoming.

“Grandma’s upstairs,” Edward said as he gestured toward the staircase. “We’ll let her take it from here.”

They disappeared down the hall, leaving me with the distinct impression that they were more like housemates than attentive grandchildren.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

Mrs. Blackwood greeted me with a smile that radiated confidence. She was in bed, but everything about her said she was in control. Her hair was perfectly coiffed, her nails polished, and her laughter surprisingly hearty.

“Ah, you must Mia,” she said, her voice warm and commanding. “Come in, dear. Sit down.”

I hesitated for a moment. She didn’t match the frail, helpless image I’d expected.

“Don’t just stand there,” she teased, patting the edge of the bed. “Sit! Have a doughnut. No one should face the world hungry.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

“Thank you,” I replied, cautiously picking one from the plate on her nightstand.

Her eyes sparkled as she watched me as if she already knew my life story.

“So, tell me,” she began, leaning back slightly, “why do you want this job?”

“I need it. And I believe I can help you,” I said, trying not to overshare.

She nodded. “Honesty. That’s rare these days. Well, Mia, welcome aboard.”

That’s how my life in Lady Blackwood’s house began.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

The first few days were uneventful. I followed her routine, listened to her endless stories, and thought maybe this would be simple. But then, the strangeness began.

One morning, a book from the shelf moved beside her bed.

“Did you read this last night, Mrs. Blackwood?” I asked, holding up the book.

“I don’t sleepwalk, dear,” she replied, her lips twitching with amusement.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

Then there was the curtain. I distinctly remembered leaving it open, but it was drawn when I returned. And the flowers… They were freshly watered when I hadn’t touched them.

“Are your grandchildren coming to kiss good night?” I asked one morning, trying to sound casual.

“Oh no,” she said with a small laugh. “Edward and Emily have been living here since their parents gone, but they rarely bother to check on me before bed.”

“But… someone’s moving things,” I pressed.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

“They’ll come when the will is read,” she added, missing my comments.

Her words hung in the air like a puzzle piece that didn’t fit. Something was off, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that Mrs. Blackwood was hiding something from everyone, including her grandchildren.

***

Each new day in the Blackwood household seemed to unravel more mysteries. I decided to make a few changes to Mrs. Blackwood’s routine, not only to make her life more comfortable but also to create a sense of normalcy in the house. Instead of letting her eat alone in her room, I began setting the table in the living room.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

“There’s something special about a proper dinner table,” I said, adjusting the silverware. “It feels more… lively, don’t you think?”

Mrs. Blackwood raised an eyebrow, but a faint smile tugged at her lips.

“You’re full of ideas, aren’t you, Mia?”

“And you’re going to love this one,” I said with a wink, pushing her wheelchair closer to the table.

I covered her with a soft blanket and tucked a pillow behind her back for support.

Edward and Emily weren’t as enthusiastic about the change. The first night, they entered the room with wide eyes, as though they had stumbled into a completely foreign world.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

“What’s this?” Emily asked, frowning at the neatly set table.

“Dinner,” I replied cheerfully. “It’s nice to eat together, don’t you think?”

Edward hesitated. “But Grandma always eats in her room.”

“Well, not anymore,” I said firmly, pulling out a chair for him. “She deserves company, don’t you agree?”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

They exchanged a look, clearly uncomfortable, but sat down anyway.

Later, I introduced the idea of reading nights twice a week.

“It’s simple,” I explained one evening. “We’ll each take turns reading a chapter aloud. Then we can discuss the plot. It’ll be fun, and it’ll give us all something to share.”

Mrs. Blackwood seemed to enjoy it, her laughter often punctuating the room as we stumbled through old classics and lighthearted tales.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

But after a few weeks, Edward and Emily began to find excuses to skip. Their absences became more frequent until it was just Mrs. Blackwood and me at the table.

One evening, the four of us gathered for the dinner.

“I’m glad you both joined us tonight,” Mrs. Blackwood began, her voice smooth and warm.

Edward glanced at Emily. “Actually, Grandma, there’s something we wanted to talk to you about.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

Emily jumped in before he could finish. “We’ve been thinking… It’s probably best for all of us if Edward and I move out. You’ll still have Mia here to take care of you, of course.”

Mrs. Blackwood tilted her head. “Moved out? Where would you go?”

“We found a place downtown,” Edward explained quickly. “But, um, we’ll need a little help with the deposit and rent.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For a moment, silence hung over the table. Then Mrs. Blackwood gave a slow, deliberate smile that made both Edward and Emily sit up straighter.

“Well, isn’t that convenient,” she said, her voice light but laced with something sharp. “Since we’re all sharing news, I have some of my own.”

Edward frowned. “What news?”

Mrs. Blackwood leaned forward slightly, her eyes gleaming with amusement.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

“Next week, my lawyer will be visiting to make some changes to my will.”

Emily froze, her fork halfway to her mouth. “Changes?”

“Yes,” Mrs. Blackwood replied. “You see, I’ve decided that everything will go to Mia.”

“You’re joking!” Emily exclaimed.

“Oh, I’m quite serious,” Mrs. Blackwood said, her voice calm. “Mia has shown me the kind of care and respect I haven’t seen from either of you in years. She’s earned it.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

“But we’re your grandchildren!” Edward burst out.

“Then perhaps you should start acting like it,” Mrs. Blackwood retorted. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I believe dinner is getting cold.”

***

Overnight, Edward’s and Emily’s behavior changed in the most absurd ways. Suddenly, they became the epitome of devoted grandchildren, vying for her attention. That was as entertaining as it was ridiculous.

One morning, I walked into the living room to find Edward arranging a vase of bright tulips on the table.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

“Flowers for you, Grandma,” he said, his tone overly cheerful. “I remember how much you love tulips.”

Mrs. Blackwood glanced at the flowers, unimpressed. “Do you? That’s interesting because I prefer orchids.”

Emily, not to be outdone, burst in a moment later carrying a tray with tea and biscuits.

“Breakfast in the living room today, Grandma! I thought you’d enjoy a change of scenery.”

Mrs. Blackwood raised an eyebrow, sipping the tea. “Well, aren’t you two just angels,” she said dryly. “Too bad you didn’t think of this sooner.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

They were relentless. Their efforts to win her over bordered on comical. Meanwhile, I barely had to lift a finger.

But despite their over-the-top efforts, Mrs. Blackwood remained firm. One evening, after a particularly extravagant dinner prepared by Emily, she announced:

“My decision is final. No amount of flowers or fancy meals will change it.”

The smiles disappeared, replaced by hushed conversations behind closed doors.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

The next day, Edward approached me.

“We’ve decided that your services are no longer needed. We can manage taking care of Grandma ourselves.”

It was clear his words were rehearsed, but the tension in his voice betrayed the real motive.

“Alright,” I said finally. “I’ll pack my things.”

As I turned to leave, Mrs. Blackwood called me to her room. She handed me an envelope stuffed with cash.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

“It’s time for you to act. Rent a car, park it near the house at midnight, and wait in the garden when the lights go out. Be ready for anything.”

I stared at her, startled. “But what’s going to happen?”

She smiled. “Just trust me. You’ll see soon enough.”

***

I rented the jeep, just as Mrs. Blackwood had instructed. The following night, I drove toward her house and parked the jeep a few streets away, keeping it hidden under the shadows of tall trees.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Taking a deep breath, I got out and crept into the garden, crouching behind the hedge where I had a clear view of the house. Time felt elastic, stretching endlessly as I waited for her signal.

Then, all at once, the lights in the house went out.

My pulse quickened. I fixed my eyes on the windows, every muscle in my body tense. The darkness seemed alive, moving with shadows that weren’t there a moment ago.

Suddenly, the back door creaked open, and a figure in a black cloak emerged. It turned, the face illuminated by the moonlight.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

“Mrs. Blackwood?” I whispered, unsure if it could really be her.

“Come,” she whispered, moving with a speed and confidence that shocked me.

I hurried after her, struggling to keep up as she navigated the garden like someone half her age. When we reached the jeep, she slid into the driver’s seat without hesitation.

“Wait… you can drive?” I stammered, stunned.

“Of course,” she replied, her tone tinged with amusement. “Did you think I spent all my time in bed for fun?”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

As she expertly maneuvered the jeep, she explained everything. The shifting objects, the carefully timed moments of helplessness—it had all been part of her plan.

“My grandchildren have spent their lives waiting for something they didn’t earn. You, Mia, showed me what true care and effort look like. It’s time they learn to stand on their own.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

***

True to her word, Mrs. Blackwood rewrote her will, leaving nothing to her grandchildren. Instead, she rewarded me generously and donated the rest to charity. Her grandchildren were given a choice: start earning their way or leave without support. Surprisingly, they chose to change.

As for me, I found a place to live and returned to my hospital internship, armed with glowing recommendations from Mrs. Blackwood. That adventure gifted me with an extraordinary friendship with Mrs. Blackwood, who taught me the true value of self-worth.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

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