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?”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

“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.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

“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.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

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.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

“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.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

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.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

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.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

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.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

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.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

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.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

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.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

“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.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

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.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

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If you enjoyed this story, you might like this one about a woman who spots her husband taking his wedding ring off before leaving for work. She decides to follow him, only to discover something shocking.

My Late Partner’s Parents Suddenly Appeared & Demanded I Give Them the Keys to His House — I Agreed under One Condition

When Jason’s estranged parents show up demanding the house he left behind, Alice is thrust into a battle she never expected. Grieving and determined, she agrees to consider their claim, but only if they can answer the one question that haunted Jason until his final days.

There are moments in life that change everything, and for Jason and me, that moment happened when we were 17. I’ll never forget the day he showed up at my door, eyes red from crying, with nothing but a backpack and a broken heart.

A teen boy standing outside a house | Source: Midjourney

A teen boy standing outside a house | Source: Midjourney

His parents had thrown him out like he was nothing, without even giving him a proper reason. My mom didn’t even hesitate; she took one look at him and knew. From that day on, he was part of our family.

We leaned on each other through all the awkward years of high school and the stress of college. I went into HR because, well, people are complicated, and I liked figuring them out. Jason? He was a genius with computers, always able to make sense of the things I couldn’t.

We were a team, balancing each other out perfectly. Then, four years ago, life hit us with the worst blow imaginable.

Two people sharing a look | Source: Midjourney

Two people sharing a look | Source: Midjourney

Jason was diagnosed with bone cancer. It was like the universe decided we’d had too many good years, and it was time to even the score.

But even then, we stayed strong. I picked up more hours, handled the mortgage on the house Jason had bought, and kept us going.

And Jason, in his quiet, stubborn way, held onto this hope that maybe his parents would come around. But they didn’t.

A sick man lying in bed | Source: Midjourney

A sick man lying in bed | Source: Midjourney

Jason’s funeral was barely a month ago, and I was still drowning in the grief of it all when his family came knocking. The very people who had abandoned him when he needed them most were now standing on my doorstep like they had every right to be there.

I remember opening the door, my heart in my throat, not knowing what to expect. But I certainly wasn’t expecting this.

Susan, Jason’s mom, looked at me with this fake sweetness that made my skin crawl.

A mature woman smiling sympathetically | Source: Midjourney

A mature woman smiling sympathetically | Source: Midjourney

“Alice, dear,” she began, her voice dripping with insincerity, “we were so sorry to hear about Jason. It must be so difficult for you, living here all alone.”

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. What could I possibly say to her? She wasn’t here for Jason. She never had been.

Charles, his dad, didn’t waste any time. “We need to talk about the house,” he said, his tone cold and businesslike. “Jason was our son, and this house should be ours now.”

A serious man | Source: Pexels

A serious man | Source: Pexels

The words hit me like a punch to the gut. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “What do you mean, ‘yours’? Jason bought this house, and I’ve been paying the mortgage. It’s in my name.”

That’s when their lawyer, who had been standing off to the side like some silent executioner, decided to chime in.

“Legally speaking,” he began, his voice smooth and practiced, “as Jason’s next of kin, his parents have a rightful claim to the property. Without a will, the law generally favors the immediate family.”

A thoughtful and serious man | Source: Pexels

A thoughtful and serious man | Source: Pexels

“You think you can just come in here, after all this time, and take his house? You didn’t care about him when he was alive, and now you want what was his?”

Susan’s face hardened, the facade cracking just a little. “Alice, we’re his family. Blood is thicker than water. Jason would have wanted us to have this house, to keep it in the family.”

I could feel the anger bubbling inside me, but I forced myself to stay calm.

An angry woman | Source: Midjourney

An angry woman | Source: Midjourney

“Jason put this house in my name over a year ago, after he got sick. We knew this might happen, and we made sure everything was legal. You don’t have a claim here. If you want this house, you can buy it from me for the price I paid Jason plus the four years of mortgage payments I made on it.”

Charles stepped forward, his voice low and threatening. “You know we can’t afford that, you selfish little… you know well that Jason would’ve wanted us to have this house. You transfer the mortgage to our name, and we’ll take over the payments. That’s my best offer. We’ll fight you in court if we have to.”

I met his gaze, refusing to back down. “You do what you have to, Charles. But before you go charging into court, there’s something you should know.”

An angry woman | Source: Midjourney

An angry woman | Source: Midjourney

They all froze, a flicker of uncertainty passing over their faces. Good. Let them feel a fraction of the fear they’d caused Jason to feel all those years ago.

I turned and walked over to the sideboard in the living room, opening a drawer that had become far too familiar over the past month. Inside was a single envelope, worn and creased from being handled so many times.

I held it up, the weight almost crushing in its simplicity.

A letter | Source: Pexels

A letter | Source: Pexels

“This,” I said, walking back toward them, “is what Jason left to you. It’s his final letter.”

Susan’s eyes lit up with something I couldn’t quite place — hope, greed, desperation, maybe all three. “A letter?” she asked, her voice trembling. “What does it say?”

I handed the envelope to her, watching as her fingers trembled slightly as she took it. “Why don’t you read it and find out?”

She hesitated, then slowly opened the envelope, pulling out the single sheet of paper inside.

A woman opening a letter | Source: Midjourney

A woman opening a letter | Source: Midjourney

As she began to read, Charles and Jason’s brother, Mark, leaned in, their expressions a mix of anticipation and something darker.

But that hope in their eyes soon dimmed, replaced by cold, hard anger. Jason’s letter wasn’t what they had expected.

“I’m sorry,” Jason had written, “that I wasn’t the son you wanted me to be. But I’ve learned to forgive you for the pain you caused, and I hope one day you can forgive yourselves, too. I wish things could have been different, but I’ve made peace with what is.”

A handwritten letter | Source: Pexels

A handwritten letter | Source: Pexels

The room was silent as they finished reading, the weight of Jason’s words hanging heavy in the air. For a moment, nobody spoke. They just stood there, staring at the letter like it was some cruel joke.

Finally, Susan looked up, her face twisted with something that might have been grief but was more likely disappointment.

“This… this isn’t what we expected,” she said, her voice flat.

I couldn’t help the bitter smile that tugged at my lips.

A woman with a grim smile | Source: Midjourney

A woman with a grim smile | Source: Midjourney

“No, I suppose it isn’t. You came here thinking you could claim what wasn’t yours, that you could somehow make up for the years you lost with him by taking something from me. But all Jason left you was his forgiveness. And honestly, that’s more than you deserve.”

Charles clenched his fists, his anger palpable. “You think you’re so righteous, don’t you? Sitting here in his house, pretending like you were the only one who ever cared about him.”

I took a deep breath, steadying myself.

A determined woman | Source: Midjourney

A determined woman | Source: Midjourney

This was the moment I had been dreading and preparing for in equal measure.

“No, Charles, I don’t think I’m righteous. But I do know that I was there for Jason when you weren’t. I was the one who held his hand when he was scared, who made sure he had a home when you turned him out. And if you want to take this house from me, you’re going to have to give me something you’ve never given Jason: an honest answer.”

A woman pointing | Source: Midjourney

A woman pointing | Source: Midjourney

They all stared at me, their anger momentarily silenced by the gravity of my words.

“Why did you cut ties with your own son? Why did you ignore his attempts to reconcile? If you can answer those questions honestly, without lies or excuses, I’ll consider your request. But if you can’t, then you have no right to anything he left behind.”

The silence that followed was thick and suffocating. Their lawyer shifted uncomfortably, glancing at them like he wished he were anywhere but here.

A man adjusting his tie | Source: Unsplash

A man adjusting his tie | Source: Unsplash

Susan’s eyes darted around the room, looking anywhere but at me, while Charles seemed to be searching for the right words, his mouth opening and closing as if the truth was stuck somewhere deep inside him.

Finally, it was Susan who broke the silence, her voice a whisper. “We were… He didn’t want to do what we wanted, and we… we thought it was better that he’d live without us.”

Her words hung in the air, hollow and empty, devoid of any real remorse.

A woman speaking | Source: Midjourney

A woman speaking | Source: Midjourney

They knew it, too. I could see it in their faces, the dawning realization that there was no justification for what they had done, no excuse that could erase the pain they had caused their son.

I shook my head, a sad smile tugging at my lips. “That’s not good enough. It’ll never be good enough.”

The lawyer, sensing the futility of their situation, stepped forward, clearing his throat. “I think it’s best if we leave, Mr. and Mrs. Miller. There’s nothing more to be done here.”

A man in a suit | Source: Pexels

A man in a suit | Source: Pexels

They looked at him, then back at me, and for the first time, I saw something in their eyes that wasn’t anger or entitlement. It was defeat. Pure and simple.

Without another word, they turned and walked out of the house, their footsteps echoing in the quiet hallway. I followed them to the door, watching as they got into their car and drove away, the weight of what had just happened settling over me like a blanket.

A car driving down a street | Source: Pexels

A car driving down a street | Source: Pexels

As I closed the door behind them, I felt a mix of sorrow and relief, a strange combination that left me feeling empty and full simultaneously.

Jason was gone, but in the end, I had protected his memory and legacy from those who didn’t deserve it. And that, at least, was something.

With a final sigh, I locked the door, the sound of the deadbolt sliding into place a quiet affirmation of everything I’d fought for. The house was mine, no; it was ours. And I would carry Jason’s memory with me in these walls and my heart for as long as I lived.

An emotional woman leaning against a door | Source: Midjourney

An emotional woman leaning against a door | Source: Midjourney

Here’s another story: At a family dinner, Jason’s new mattress ignites a fierce conflict. His mother demands he return it to fund his half-sister’s car. Tensions soar as Jason stands his ground, feeling neglected for years. When his grandparents intervene, shocking revelations unfold, forever altering family dynamics. 

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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