After months away, I thought surprising my family on Christmas Eve would be perfect. Instead, I found my sons huddled in our car, claiming their mother was “busy with some man” inside. As my mind raced with dark possibilities, I knew our quiet Christmas reunion was about to turn disastrous.
The windshield wipers fought a losing battle against the snow as I guided my car down our neighborhood street.
A man driving through snow | Source: Midjourney
After three months of endless business trips, I was finally heading home on Christmas Eve. The dashboard clock read 7:43 p.m. — perfect timing to surprise Sarah and the boys.
“Just wait till they see what’s in the trunk,” I muttered, thinking about the pile of carefully wrapped presents I’d collected during my travels.
Three months was a long time to be away, but I’d ensured each gift was special enough to help make up for my absence.
A man smiling while driving | Source: Midjourney
The model rocket kit for Tommy, the art supplies for Jake’s budding interest in painting, and the vintage jewelry box I’d found for Sarah in that tiny antique shop in Boston.
As I turned onto our street, the Christmas lights from neighboring houses cast colorful shadows across the fresh snow. Our house stood out immediately; Sarah had outdone herself this year with the decorations.
Streams of white icicle lights draped from the eaves, and illuminated reindeer “grazed” on our front lawn. But something seemed off.
A house decorated for Christmas | Source: Midjourney
The garage door was slightly open, maybe eight inches off the ground, letting out a thin strip of light.
“That’s weird,” I said to myself, frowning.
Sarah was always meticulous about security, especially when I was away. She’d triple-check the doors and windows before bed, a habit that had reassured me during my extended absences.
I pulled into the driveway and killed the engine.
A car parked in a driveway | Source: Midjourney
That’s when I noticed Sarah’s car was there, and two small shapes were bundled up in the backseat. My heart dropped as I recognized Tommy and Jake, bundled up in their winter coats, sitting perfectly still.
I jumped out of my car, my dress shoes crunching in the fresh snow as I rushed over. Tommy, my nine-year-old, saw me first and his eyes went wide.
“Dad!” he whispered loudly, rolling down the window. “You’re not supposed to be home yet!”
Two warmly-dressed boys in a car | Source: Midjourney
“What are you two doing out here?” I demanded, looking between them and the house. “It’s freezing!”
Jake, my seven-year-old, leaned forward, his breath forming little clouds in the cold air. “Mom said we had to stay out here. She’s doing important stuff inside.”
“Important stuff?” I repeated. “What could she possibly be doing that would make her send you two out here, in the cold?”
A man standing beside a car in a garage | Source: Midjourney
Tommy mumbled something I couldn’t make out and looked away, a guilty expression on his face.
“I dunno, Dad,” Jake replied. “She’s busy with some man and said we had to wait out here til they’re done.”
The words hit me like a punch to the gut.
“What man?” I asked. “And how long have you been out here?”
An irate man in a garage | Source: Midjourney
“I dunno,” Tommy shrugged, adjusting his Spider-Man beanie. “Maybe twenty minutes? Mom said we absolutely couldn’t come inside until she came to get us. She was really serious about it.”
My mind raced through possibilities, each worse than the last.
Sarah had been acting strange during our last few phone calls, distracted and evasive when I asked about our holiday plans. I’d chalked it up to stress, but now… I glanced at the door leading inside from the garage. Was Sarah cheating on me?
A concerned man | Source: Midjourney
The thought lodged in my mind like a thorn. I couldn’t imagine Sarah being unfaithful to me, and on Christmas Eve no less, but I also couldn’t shake the idea that something underhanded was happening inside my house.
“Come on, boys,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “We’re going inside.”
“But Mom said—” Jake started to protest, his lower lip trembling slightly.
“Now,” I interrupted.
A man speaking to a child | Source: Midjourney
They exchanged worried looks but climbed out.
The garage entry door creaked as we entered. The house was unusually dark, save for a faint glow coming from the direction of the living room.
My heart pounded in my ears as we moved through the kitchen. I could hear muffled voices ahead: a man’s low laugh, and Sarah’s familiar giggle.
“Stay behind me,” I whispered to the boys, my hands clenching into fists as we approached the living room.
A concerned man in a house | Source: Midjourney
The voices grew clearer, and I glimpsed movement through the partially open door. My wedding ring felt suddenly heavy on my finger.
I took a deep breath, steeling myself for whatever I was about to find. With one quick motion, I pushed the door open wide.
“SURPRISE!”
The room exploded with light and sound.
People in a living room | Source: Midjourney
Dozens of familiar faces beamed at me — my parents, Sarah’s family, our neighbors, and even some colleagues from work.
A massive “Welcome Home” banner stretched across the fireplace, and a mountain of presents surrounded our Christmas tree. The air smelled of mulled cider and Sarah’s famous sugar cookies.
Sarah rushed forward, throwing her arms around my neck.
A couple hugging | Source: Midjourney
“Got you!” she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “You should see your face right now! You look like you’ve seen a ghost!”
I stood frozen, my brain struggling to catch up with reality. Behind me, Tommy and Jake burst into giggles.
“We did good, right, Mom?” Tommy asked proudly, bouncing on his toes. “We stayed in the car just like you said!”
A happy boy | Source: Midjourney
Sarah laughed, squeezing them both. “You were perfect! Your dad had no idea! And you didn’t even complain about the cold.”
“The man…” I started, still processing everything. “I heard a man’s voice…”
“That would be me,” my brother Mike stepped forward, grinning. “Someone had to help set up the sound system for the party. Though I got to say, bro, you look like you were ready to throw down just now. Should I be worried?”
A smiling man | Source: Midjourney
The tension in my shoulders finally released, replaced by a wave of relief and embarrassment. Sarah must have read it on my face because she pulled me close again.
“Mike told us your plan to surprise us by coming home early,” she whispered in my ear, her perfume familiar and comforting. “So I decided to beat you to it. Merry Christmas, honey.”
“You evil genius,” I murmured, finally finding my smile. “How long have you been planning this?”
A woman with a mischievous grin speaking to her husband | Source: Midjourney
“Since I found out about it,” she admitted. “I figured you needed something special to come home to.”
The rest of the night passed in a blur of laughter, food, and countless retellings of how they’d pulled off the surprise.
My mom couldn’t stop hugging me, her eyes misty every time she looked my way. Dad kept clapping me on the back, while the boys eagerly shared their role in the deception with anyone who would listen.
Family and friends celebrating Christmas Eve together | Source: Pexels
“And then we had to sit really quiet in the car,” Jake explained to his cousins for the third time, gesturing dramatically. “Like ninjas on a secret mission!”
“The hardest part was not texting you about it,” my mother admitted later, as we helped ourselves to Sarah’s holiday punch. “Every time we talked, I was afraid I’d slip up and mention something about the party.”
“I can’t believe everyone kept the secret,” I said, watching Tommy show his grandpa the proper technique for dunking sugar cookies in hot chocolate.
A couple sitting together | Source: Midjourney
“Well, we all missed you,” she replied softly. “This was our way of showing you.”
Later, after the guests had gone and the boys were in bed, Sarah and I sat on the couch, watching the Christmas tree lights twinkle.
The house still hummed with the afterglow of the party — empty cups on the coffee table, wrapping paper scraps under the tree, and the lingering warmth of having been filled with loved ones.
A couple having a conversation | Source: Midjourney
“I can’t believe you got me that good,” I admitted, pulling her closer. “When I saw the boys in the car and heard about the ‘mystery man’… my mind went to some dark places.”
She laughed softly, intertwining her fingers with mine. “I almost feel bad about that part. Almost. But you have to admit it made for a pretty unforgettable homecoming.”
I thought about the presents still in my car trunk, the ones I’d carefully selected to make up for my time away.
A smiling thoughtful man | Source: Midjourney
They seemed almost silly now, compared to what Sarah had given me tonight — this reminder of how much I was loved, and how many people had come together just to welcome me home.
“Yeah,” I agreed, kissing the top of her head. “Unforgettable is definitely the word.”
The snow continued falling outside our window, but I barely noticed the cold anymore. After months of hotel rooms and conference calls, I was finally where I belonged.
Snow falling in a suburban area | Source: Pexels
Sarah stirred beside me, yawning. “We should probably clean up the rest of this mess.”
“Leave it for tomorrow,” I said, pulling her closer. “Right now, I just want to sit here with you and enjoy being home.”
She smiled, resting her head on my shoulder. “Welcome home, love. Merry Christmas.”
Here’s another story: I was suspicious when my controlling MIL demanded we use her special Christmas tree for our first time hosting the family gathering. However, her lack of decorating demands threw me off guard — until we plugged it in and discovered the true reason she was so insistent about that tree.
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.
My Stepmom Gifted Me a Funerary Urn for My 17th Birthday
As Lila was ready to celebrate her 17th birthday, she received an unexpected and creepy gift from her stepmother: a pink funerary urn. Like the type you keep ashes in? Yes, that’s the one. But that’s not all! Lila learns that her college fund was given to Monica to open her salon. What will Lila do?
Let me tell you, I’ve been sitting on this one for a few days, just trying to make sense of what went down.
I always thought my stepmom, Monica, was the worst, though not Disney villain evil. She was the kind of person who talks over you, forgets your birthday, and calls you “kiddo” when you’re practically an adult.
A smiling teenage girl | Source: Midjourney
But, what she pulled on my 17th birthday? It shattered whatever shaky truce we had.
At least, that’s what I thought. Turns out, things weren’t exactly what they seemed.
Here’s how it all went down.
My mom, Sarah, died when I was ten, and after that, it was just Dad and me. We were a solid team. The type of team that has pizza for dinner half the week, late-night movies, and this unspoken agreement that we’d always have each other’s backs.
Two boxes of pizza on a coffee table | Source: Midjourney
Then came Monica, about three years ago.
At first, she wasn’t horrible; she was just… there. Like a stray cat that never leaves, so you have no choice but to adopt it. Monica moved into our house, took over the bathroom with her fifty bottles of face serums and creams, and slowly pushed her way into my dad’s world.
Monica had big dreams of opening a hair salon, which was fine. I wasn’t against people having dreams. I had my own dreams waiting for me, but she treated me like I was just this annoying piece of furniture that came with the house.
A woman’s vanity | Source: Midjourney
Honestly, I was counting down the days until I could escape to college.
Dad had promised me since middle school that there was a college fund waiting for me.
“Don’t worry, sweet girl,” he told me. “Your mom and I put together the fund when you were five. There’s more than enough, and every year on your birthday and Christmas, I add more.”
A smiling little girl | Source: Midjourney
“Thank you, Dad,” I said. “I just want to study and make something of myself, like Mom said.”
“You only have to worry about your grades, Lila,” he said. “I’ll handle the rest.”
Naturally, I worked my butt off in school, knowing that in a few years, I’d be out of here.
A smiling man | Source: Midjourney
College was my golden ticket, and no one — not even Monica — would stand in my way.
At least, that’s what I thought.
On the morning of my 17th birthday, I came downstairs expecting the usual lukewarm effort. By lukewarm, I mean a sad card, some pancakes, and Monica forgetting my favorite syrup. Dad was at work, so it was just Mon and I.
A plate of pancakes and a card on a table | Source: Midjourney
She handed me a gift bag, which was already weird because Monica wasn’t exactly the thoughtful or sentimental type.
“Happy Birthday, kiddo,” she said, flashing one of her tight-lipped smiles.
I wasn’t expecting much, but I sure as hell wasn’t expecting this.
I reached inside the bag and pulled out… an urn.
A shocked teenage girl | Source: Midjourney
A funerary urn.
You know, the kind that people store ashes in. Cold, heavy, and, well, pink. It was pink.
I just stared at it, my brain short-circuiting.
“What the hell is this?” I asked, holding the urn like it was cursed.
A pink funerary urn | Source: Midjourney
Monica leaned against the kitchen counter, smug as ever.
“It’s symbolic,” she said as if that explained anything.
“Symbolic of what?”
Monica’s grin widened.
A smiling woman in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney
“It’s time to bury your dreams of college, kiddo. Your dad and I talked about this, and we decided to put the college fund to better use.”
“Better use?” I asked, a cold shiver running through me.
“Yep. We’re investing it in my hair salon. College is a gamble, Lila. A business? That’s something real, sweetie.”
A hair salon being renovated | Source: Midjourney
She sipped her coffee like she’d just said the most reasonable thing in the world.
I was frozen in place, trying to make sense of what I’d just heard. Had they really taken my future, everything I’d worked for, and sunk it into Monica’s salon dream?
“How could you do this?” I whispered.
Monica just smiled, a little too pleased with herself.
A shocked teenage girl | Source: Midjourney
“Life’s full of disappointments, kiddo. Better get used to it now,” she said.
Wow.
That was it. I was done. I ran upstairs, slamming the door behind me so hard that the walls shook.
I cried so hard it hurt. What else could I do? Everything I had been holding onto was gone, and the only person I thought I could count on, Dad, had let this happen.
An upset teenage girl | Source: Midjourney
My mom wanted me to get out and make something of myself. And now? It was all over.
The next few days were a blur. I didn’t speak to Monica or my dad unless I absolutely had to. Every time I looked at that stupid urn sitting on my desk, my stomach twisted.
I couldn’t even bring myself to throw it out. It felt like some kind of morbid evidence. Like proof of the betrayal I didn’t see coming.
A pink funerary urn on a desk | Source: Midjourney
At school, my friends tried to cheer me up.
“Maybe she thought it was funny, Lila,” my friend Kira said. “Like, who really knows what Monica is thinking?”
“And anyway, there’s nothing stopping you from throwing it out! Just do it! Don’t overthink it,” Mel said.
Three teenage girls | Source: Midjourney
But still, I couldn’t focus on anything other than the fact that Monica was prancing around, acting like she was the queen of the house, while I sat there with no future.
Then, a few days later, something strange happened.
When I got home from school, there was a note on my desk. Not in an envelope, just folded, with my name written in Monica’s messy handwriting.
A woman sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney
Meet me at the salon at 6 P.M. tonight. No questions. Just trust me. -M.
I almost laughed out loud. Trust her? Yeah, right.
But something about the note gnawed at me. Maybe it was the fact that I wanted to confront her one last time, tell her exactly what I thought of her.
Against my better judgment, I decided to go.
A note on a table | Source: Midjourney
When I got to the salon, the lights were off, and the front door was unlocked.
I hesitated for a second, wondering if this was some elaborate prank. But curiosity got the best of me.
I stepped inside, and there they were. Monica and my dad, standing side by side, both grinning widely.
“Surprise!” Monica shouted, throwing her arms up like this was the happiest moment of her life.
The entrance to a salon | Source: Midjourney
I just stared at them, completely lost.
“What is this?”
Monica stepped aside, and that’s when I saw it — a shiny, brand-new sign mounted on the wall.
Dream Cuts: A Scholarship Fund in Honor of Sarah
I blinked, feeling like the room was tilting on its axis.
A hair salon | Source: Midjourney
“What… what is this?”
Monica smiled, but it wasn’t her usual smug grin. This one was softer, almost real.
“We didn’t use your college fund, kiddo. It’s all still there. The salon? It’s not just for me. It’s for you, too. For other kids like you, too.”
I couldn’t breathe.
A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney
“But then, why would you make me think otherwise?” I asked.
Monica winced, putting her hand on her head.
“Yeah, so, the urn thing… That was not my best idea. I thought it’d be motivational, like, bury the past and embrace the future. You know? But it turns out that it was just creepy.”
A woman with her hand on her head | Source: Midjourney
I stared at her, speechless.
My dad stepped forward, wrapping an arm around my shoulder.
“We’ve been planning this for months, Lila,” he said. “Your mom always wanted to help kids get to college. This salon is going to fund scholarships. For you and for others in her name.”
“The salon has been my dream, Lila,” Monica said. “But it was never going to come at your expense. This way, a great portion of all our profits in the future will go to the fund.”
A smiling man | Source: Midjourney
I didn’t know what to say.
Or what to think.
Just that I felt a warm haze take over me.
Monica laughed softly.
“I’m not a monster, darling,” she said. “I just didn’t want you to think that I was trying to take over your mom’s role.”
A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney
For the first time in a long time, I smiled.
It wasn’t perfect, but things with Monica probably never would be. But, at that moment, standing in the middle of a salon named for my mom’s dream, I realized that she wasn’t trying to ruin my life.
She was trying to build something bigger than any of us.
A smiling teenage girl | Source: Midjourney
And somehow, against all odds, it felt like a new beginning.
And yeah, I kept the urn. But I planted white peace lilies in it, thinking it would be symbolic after all. And who knows, maybe I’ll take the urn to college.
What would you have done?
Peace lilies planted into a pink funerary urn | Source: Midjourney
If you enjoyed this story, here’s another one for you |
I Transferred $24K to My Daughter for Her College Tuition, Only to Discover She Never Enrolled — What She Spent It On Made Me Pale
Caroline had been saving for her daughter’s college fund since Angela was born. But after a classmate of Angela’s reveals that Angela is not actually enrolled in college, Caroline must uncover what her daughter is doing and what she used the money for.
Children are always going to break your heart. This was something that I learned the hard way after trusting my daughter, Angela, completely.
A close-up of a smiling girl | Source: Midjourney
Since Angela was born, I have been saving for college. I needed to know that irrespective of what life threw my way, I would be able to educate my child.
“I think you can wait until she’s a little older,” my husband, Holden, said. “We can do it together.”
“You can add to her college fund later,” I said, looking at my baby girl. “But I’m going to start from next month. I wasn’t able to study, Holden. And it was because we didn’t have the opportunity to do so. Angela is going to get that opportunity.”
A smiling baby girl | Source: Midjourney
“Okay, Caroline,” my husband said. “You start it now, and I’ll add to it in a year. The house will be paid off, and I’ll be able to put that money into the fund.”
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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