Old Man Goes to Visit Daughter for His 80th Birthday, She Doesn’t Let Him Enter Her House – Story of the Day

Richard visits his daughter to celebrate his eightieth birthday with her, but she answers the door in tears and sends him away. Richard suspects trouble and realizes he’s right after peeking through her front windows.Richard tapped his fingers nervously against the steering wheel as he drove. Deidre used to drive down every Thanksgiving, but that stopped after his wife’s funeral four years ago. Now, there were only weekly calls. Richard spread his arms wide as Deidre appeared in the doorway. “Surprise!” he yelled. “Dad? What are you doing here?” she asked, tears rolling down her cheeks.

“I came to celebrate my birthday with you…it’s the big eight-o!” Richard replied, but the joy in his voice trailed off quickly. “What’s wrong, honey? Why are you crying?””It’s nothing; everything’s fine,” Deidre quickly wiped her tears and smiled a little. “I just…I wasn’t expecting you, and this isn’t really a good time. Sorry, Dad, but I, uh, need to focus. On my work. Look, I’ll call you. We’ll have dinner later, okay? Sorry.”Deidre shut the door, leaving Richard hurt and confused. Something was terribly wrong. Was Deidre in trouble? Richard stepped back from the front door but didn’t leave. He stepped over the short, flowering shrubs lining the path and snuck up to peek through the windows. Two rough-looking men were in the sitting room with Deidre. “Who was that?” One of them asked in a rough voice. “Nobody,” Deidre lied in a shaky voice. “Just a neighbor’s kid…pulling a doorbell prank and running away.” “Back to business then,” the second man said. “You’re now six months behind on your loan repayments, Deidre. Mr. Marco’s getting impatient.””I just need more time. Business is sure to pick up again in the winter,” she pleaded. “Time is one thing you haven’t got, sweetie,” the man replied, pulling out his gun. “People who owe Mr. Marco money don’t have a great life expectancy and end up feeding the fishes in the lake…” He pointed the weapon at her. Terror froze Richard in place. But soon, the man stepped back with a look of disgust and tucked the gun away in the waistband of his trousers. “Look around this dump and see if there’s anything valuable we can take to Mr. Marco, Danny,” he ordered. “She’s a businesswoman, so there must be a computer or some kind of equipment around here.” ”But I need those things!” she cried. “I can’t make money without my equipment!” The man patted the butt of his gun. ”Boo-Hoo. I can still change my mind, you know. Don’t be ungrateful, now.”The men ransacked her home before they stormed out, leaving Deidre curled up sobbing on the floor. Nothing made sense to Richard because Deidre’s business was doing well. At least that’s what she had told him. But now, Richard could sense something was amiss. Deidre needed his help. The men loaded several appliances from Deidre’s home in their vehicle. When they finally drove away, Richard followed them. The men stopped at a two-storeyed brick building downtown that looked like a bar. While it was closed, the door was unlocked. No one on the staff stopped Richard as he entered the building. The men had joined a large table where several other rough-looking men were seated. One of them stood and swaggered toward him. “The club’s closed,” he growled. “Come back later.” “I’m here to discuss Deidre’s debt,” Richard announced.”Oh?” The man seated at the head of the table rose and stared at Richard. He looked like a gentleman except for a nasty scar above his left eye. Richard guessed he was Mr. Marco. ”How much does she owe you?” Richard asked. Mr. Marco smirked. “A good samaritan, huh? Deidre took out a business loan of $80,000 from me. She was supposed to pay me back from her monthly profits, only she never made any.” ”I have around $20,000 in my savings,” Richard gulped fearfully, shaken Deidre had borrowed such a big sum. ”That’s only a quarter of what she owes us.” Mr. Marco sighed. “But there’s something you can do to make up the difference.” Richard didn’t like the sound of that, but he had to do whatever it took to save his daughter from the mess she’d gotten herself into. ”What do you want me to do?” he asked.Mr. Marco grinned at Richard and beckoned him closer to the table. ”My partner and I recently started a small business importing cars to Canada, but some of the paperwork has been delayed, so we’re having difficulties getting the…’merchandise’…across the border. A kind, innocent-looking Grandpa like you should have no trouble crossing the border in one of our cars.” Richard had no choice but to agree. Later that night, he pulled into a gas station near the border town to use the bathroom and parked beside a patrol. “Jesus!” he gasped as the German Shepherd in the back of the police cruiser began barking at him and pawing at the window. Service dogs were trained not to bark at random people unless…Oh, man. He quickly climbed back in the car, a Valiant, and started reversing as the police dog went crazy. Two cops hurried out of the gas station store and yelled at him to stop as they glanced at him. The GPS app voiced directions, but Richard shoved it in his pocket to silence the darn thing. He pushed the Valiant to its limits as he wove through traffic, leaving a trail of outraged drivers and narrowly avoided collisions in his wake. The sirens blared behind him.Richard soon spotted a narrow, unmarked dirt road veering into the forest ahead. He sharply turned, leaving the road behind him as he raced into the forest. The muddy trails were awful to navigate, but Richard pushed on. He turned down a narrow track leading downhill. Then, he turned up a slight rise and instantly regretted it. The car was now stuck in a precarious position, balanced on a narrow rise above a wide river. Richard tried to reverse back the way he came, but the tires spun without getting traction. In fact, the car was sliding closer to the water. “No!” Richard desperately pulled up the parking brake, but it didn’t work.The car’s nose hit the river with a loud splash, sending a wave of dark water flooding over the bonnet. Richard shoved the car door open, desperate to escape the sinking vehicle. The pressure from the water started to push the car door shut against Richard’s legs. Richard splashed around in panic as the river filled the interior.As the water level crept up his face, he tipped his head back, took one last breath, and pulled himself underwater. Richard squeezed himself out of the opening and pushed himself up toward the surface. He took in a lungful of air and swam toward the river bank. Reaching land made Richard realize how close he was to death. He was thankfully breathing. But he still needed to do something about the $80,000. So Richard hitchhiked home.”I need to mortgage my house,” he told the bank assistant. ”And I need the cash in my bank account fast.” Richard waited impatiently as the bank employee processed the paperwork. He jumped in fright when Deidre called him. “Some thugs from a local gang were just here asking about you, Dad…what is happening?” “Tell them I’ll be there soon. I arranged to pay off your debt for you. I don’t understand why you didn’t come to me first, Deidre, but this isn’t the time to discuss that.”Richard ended the call and signed the paperwork. He didn’t want to give up the home where he had created memories with his family, but it was the only way to help Deidre.A few hours later, he pulled into the club’s parking lot in a rented car and headed toward the entrance. ”Dad, wait!” Richard looked back as Deidre ran toward him. ”I won’t let you face those thugs alone,” she said. ”I still don’t understand how you found out about this mess or how you got the money to repay them, but the least I can do is stand by you while you save me.” Richard studied the determined look in Deidre’s eyes and knew he couldn’t convince her to leave. As they entered the club, the thugs herded him and Deidre toward the table. Richard placed his duffel bag, which contained the cash he’d withdrawn after the mortgage went through, and put it on the table. ”Here’s the $80,000 Deidre owed you plus another $15,000 to cover the cost of your car. I, uh, got into some trouble, and the car ended up in a river.”Mr. Marco’s mouth twisted angrily, and he thumped his fist against the table. “You have the audacity to offer me a measly $15,000? After you come in here and tell me you sank the $100,000 shipment hidden in that car?

That doesn’t even BEGIN to cover what you now owe me.” The gangster grabbed the duffel bag and threw it to one of his thugs. ”You know, Deidre, I really believed in you, but sometimes, in business, you’ve got to know when to cut your losses.” He removed a gun from his suit jacket and pointed it straight at Deidre’s forehead. Richard pulled Deidre behind him. “No, please! This is all my fault! Don’t punish her!” ”Well, you made a good point.” The gangster shrugged, and the next moment, Richard was staring down the gun barrel.But suddenly, they heard police sirens outside. Mr. Marco turned and ran toward the back of the club as loud gunfire boomed and shook the place. Father and daughter crawled under the table. There was chaos in the club, and as Richard looked into his daughter’s fear-filled eyes, he knew he had to get her to safety, no matter what. Richard and Deidre pulled one of the tables over and barricaded themselves in a corner. They hid there until the police escorted them to safety. Thankfully, Mr. Marco was apprehended. ”Are you certain you don’t have any heart-related health issues?” Richard shook his head at the paramedic while in the ambulance. Richard swallowed hard when the police detective approached the ambulance.”Sir, what were you and your daughter doing in this club today?” the detective asked sternly. Richard explained about Deidre’s loan and how they’d come to the club that day to repay it. He hoped he might get away with not mentioning the car he sank in the river. The detective glanced at Deidre. “If we hadn’t found a car full of contraband in the river, we wouldn’t have been here to rescue you. You shouldn’t be taking loans from such disreputable people, miss.” “A car in the river?” Richard asked nervously. “It was registered to Mr. Marco’s cousin, which was exactly the lede we needed to take this gang down,” replied the officer.Richard sighed in relief. He was in the clear. The cops let him and Deidre go once they provided their statements. ”I owe you a huge apology, Dad. I dragged you into this whole mess,” Deidre apologized as they walked to the front, where Richard’s car was parked. Tears filled her eyes. “I didn’t know how to tell you. How does anyone tell their father that they’re a huge failure?” “You are not a failure!” Richard put his hands on Deidre’s shoulders. ”Maybe your business idea didn’t work out as well as you’d hoped, but you tried, Deidre. I wish you’d felt comfortable enough to tell me what was really going on in your life. Heck, I just wish you felt you could be as close with me as you were with your mother,” he continued. ”I don’t think you’ve been ‘fine’ for quite a while now.” Deidre burst into tears, and Richard put an arm around her. “It’s okay, honey,” he whispered soothingly. “Everything’s going to be okay.”Tell us what you think about this story, and share it with your friends. It might brighten their day and inspire them.

My MIL Gave Away My Late Mom’s Heirloom to Her Friends — I Immediately Made Sure She’d Regret It

When I spotted a stranger wearing my late mom’s cherished necklace at a café, my world flipped. My meddling MIL had stolen it, along with other heirlooms, and lent them to her friends. Furious and betrayed, I reclaimed what was mine and plotted a lesson she’d never forget.

I’ve always prided myself on the kind of person people can count on. My husband, Michael, likes to say that my heart is my strongest muscle. It’s sweet. Corny, but sweet.

A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney

A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney

Together, we’ve built something beautiful: a relationship rooted in respect, understanding, and love.

So when his mom, Lucille, needed a place to stay, I didn’t hesitate. She’d lost her apartment, and while she wasn’t exactly easy to live with, I couldn’t say no. Family is family, right?

“You’re sure?” Michael asked, hesitation flickering across his face. “She can be… a lot.”

A doubtful man | Source: Midjourney

A doubtful man | Source: Midjourney

“I’m sure,” I replied. “But she has to agree to be respectful, okay? Living with us doesn’t mean she gets to do whatever she wants in our house, or with our stuff.”

My husband nodded. “I agree. I’ll speak to her and make sure she understands that.”

At first, it was fine. She could be intrusive, sure, but mostly she was just there, taking up space like an overly perfumed shadow. I chalked up her quirks to the adjustment period.

Until the necklace incident.

A woman standing with her arms crossed | Source: Midjourney

A woman standing with her arms crossed | Source: Midjourney

My best friend Tara and I had planned a brunch date at the café on Maple, a little spot with sticky tabletops and the best lattes in town. We’d just settled in when I noticed a group of middle-aged women laughing at a nearby table.

One of them was wearing my mother’s necklace.

My stomach dropped. There was no mistaking the familiar glint of gold, or the intricate filigree on the pendant that had been in my family for generations.

A necklace on a woman's neck | Source: Midjourney

A necklace on a woman’s neck | Source: Midjourney

That necklace wasn’t just a valuable piece of jewelry either, it was her… my mom. The piece she’d worn to weddings and graduations and everyday errands. The one she’d entrusted to me before cancer took her away.

“What’s wrong?” Tara asked, following my gaze.

“That woman’s wearing Mom’s necklace! How… I’ll be right back,” I said, rising on shaky legs.

I approached the woman, my heart hammering.

A shocked woman | Source: Midjourney

A shocked woman | Source: Midjourney

“Excuse me?” My voice cracked as I approached her table.

She looked up, startled but polite. “Yes?”

“Your necklace,” I said, pointing with a shaky finger. “Where did you get it?”

“Oh, this?” She touched the pendant, her brow furrowing. “My friend Lucille lent it to me. Said it was just some old junk from her daughter-in-law’s late mother. She insisted I take it.”

A woman touching a necklace she's wearing | Source: Midjourney

A woman touching a necklace she’s wearing | Source: Midjourney

Lucille!

My ears rang. “Really? Because Lucille is my mother-in-law, and that’s my necklace. It’s one of my most treasured possessions, too, not a piece of junk, and I never said she could lend it out to anyone.”

The woman’s face crumpled as she reached for the clasp. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know. She made it sound like… oh God. I’ll give it back.”

“And the rest of it,” I added, sweeping my gaze across the table like a prosecutor delivering a final blow. The air around me seemed to thicken as I recognized each piece, a fresh wave of anger rising with every discovery.

An annoyed woman | Source: Midjourney

An annoyed woman | Source: Midjourney

The women exchanged uneasy glances. One by one, they began fumbling with their jewelry. Karen, a woman wearing one of Mom’s brooches, looked at me with wide, guilt-ridden eyes.

“We truly didn’t know,” she stammered, her fingers trembling as she unclasped it. “Lucille made it seem like it was no big deal.”

“She lied,” I replied flatly, extending my hand. “Please, just give them back.”

There were murmurs of embarrassment and whispered apologies as the others followed Karen’s lead.

Women in a coffeeshop | Source: Midjourney

Women in a coffeeshop | Source: Midjourney

Rings slipped off fingers, bracelets were pulled from wrists, and necklaces were unfastened with hurried movements. By the time the last piece was handed over, my pockets bulged with stolen memories. Yet instead of relief, I felt only a simmering fury.

“She said they were just sitting around,” another woman said hesitantly, her voice low. “We had no idea.”

I nodded stiffly, though my heart ached. These weren’t just objects. They were fragments of my mom’s life that I thought I’d kept safe.

An emotional woman | Source: Midjourney

An emotional woman | Source: Midjourney

“I know you didn’t,” I said quietly. “It’s not your fault.”

As I turned to leave, I forced myself to walk calmly, though every step felt like an effort not to burst into tears or scream into the open air. Outside, Tara was waiting by the car, her face tense with concern.

“Did you get it all back?” she asked as I slid into the driver’s seat.

“Yeah. But this isn’t over.”

A woman driving a car | Source: Pexels

A woman driving a car | Source: Pexels

The faint jingle of the heirlooms in my pocket was the only sound as I gripped the steering wheel tightly and stared ahead, swallowing my emotions.

At home, the scent of cheap lavender slapped me in the face the moment I entered Lucille’s room. Her presence lingered, as suffocating as her perfume. It clung to everything: the curtains, the bedding, and even the damn air.

Her jewelry box sat open on the dresser, its contents shimmering like a taunt.

A jewelry box | Source: Midjourney

A jewelry box | Source: Midjourney

I stepped closer, the floor creaking underfoot. My reflection stared back at me from the mirror, my expression hard and unyielding. This wasn’t me; this simmering ball of anger and betrayal. But Lucille had pushed me too far.

Then the idea struck.

If Lucille wanted to play lending library, fine. But she wasn’t going to use my family’s legacy.

A smirking woman | Source: Midjourney

A smirking woman | Source: Midjourney

I gathered every piece of her jewelry I could find — necklaces, bracelets, the works — and reached out to her friends.

Karen, the ringleader of the brunch group, was the first to respond.

“Think you and the others would mind helping me teach her a lesson?” I asked.

Karen, bless her, laughed. “Oh honey, we’re in.”

A few days later, Lucille invited her friends over for tea and I set my plan in motion.

A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney

A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney

I watched from the shadows of the hallway as her friends arrived, each one adorned in her jewelry. Karen’s coat bore Lucille’s infamous rhinestone brooch, catching the light every time she moved.

Another woman wore the chunky gold necklace Lucille always bragged about at family dinners, while someone else twirled her fingers, stacked with Lucille’s signature cocktail rings.

Lucille, oblivious at first, poured tea and chattered about nothing, her voice loud and grating as usual. Then she froze.

A woman gasping | Source: Midjourney

A woman gasping | Source: Midjourney

Her gaze landed on Karen’s brooch, and her smile faltered. Her eyes darted from one woman to the next, and with each new piece of jewelry she recognized, her face turned a deeper shade of red.

“What-what’s going on?” she stammered, her tone sharp with suspicion.

Karen, bless her, played it cool. “What’s wrong, Lucille? You’re happy to let us borrow these, aren’t you?”

Lucille’s teacup rattled as she set it down, her hand trembling.

A tea cup | Source: Midjourney

A tea cup | Source: Midjourney

“That’s my jewelry! What are you all doing wearing it?”

The group fell silent, shifting uncomfortably. Karen tilted her head, feigning confusion. “Wait a minute,” she said slowly. “You were fine giving away your daughter-in-law’s heirlooms. Isn’t this fair as well?”

Lucille’s eyes widened, her chest heaving with outrage. “That’s completely different! These pieces are mine!” Her voice cracked, the shrill edge betraying her panic.

That was my cue.

A woman standing in a hallway | Source: Midjourney

A woman standing in a hallway | Source: Midjourney

I stepped into the room, the weight of my presence halting her tirade mid-sentence.

“Oh, calm down, Lucille,” I said, my tone even but laced with ice. “I thought it was only fair to return the favor. You know, since you decided my late mother’s heirlooms were yours to lend out.”

Her head snapped toward me, her face pale and panicked. “I didn’t…”

“Don’t even try,” I interrupted.

A furious woman | Source: Midjourney

A furious woman | Source: Midjourney

“You knew exactly what you were doing. You stole from me. You lied to your friends. And you insulted my mother’s memory by calling her legacy ‘old junk.’”Her face paled, the bravado draining away. “I-I didn’t mean…”

“It doesn’t matter what you meant,” I said sharply. “You crossed a line. A massive one. And I’m done letting you disrespect me.”

Lucille’s voice dropped to a whimper. “Please don’t call the police.”

A distressed woman | Source: Midjourney

A distressed woman | Source: Midjourney

“I should,” I said. “You don’t just get to steal and lie without consequences.”

That night, Lucille packed her things and left. Michael helped her carry her suitcases to the car, his silence saying everything. It didn’t erase the betrayal, but it helped.

Lucille’s friends, furious at being lied to, cut ties with her until she apologized to me as well as them. Even then, I made it clear: she was never to be left alone in my home again.

A victorious woman | Source: Midjourney

A victorious woman | Source: Midjourney

I locked my mother’s jewelry in a safe that same night. When I looked at the necklace, now safely back where it belonged, I felt a bittersweet relief. It reminded me of Mom’s love, of her strength. And of my own.

Because in the end, Lucille may have tried to take a piece of my mother’s legacy, but she couldn’t take the lesson I learned: sometimes, being a good person means standing up for yourself.

Here’s another story: When I arrived at the hospital to bring home my wife and newborn twins, I was met with heartbreak: Suzie was gone, leaving only a cryptic note. As I juggled caring for the babies and unraveling the truth, I discovered the dark secrets that tore my family apart.

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.

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