When a grouchy old man slams the door on a persistent teen, he thinks he’s rid of her for good. But when a hurricane traps them together, the storm outside reveals the truth about her shocking connection to his past.
Frank had lived alone for many years. The quiet suited him, and he’d long accepted the absence of friends or family in his life. So, when he heard a knock at the door one Saturday morning, he was startled but more annoyed than curious.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
With a heavy groan, he pushed himself out of his recliner. When he opened the door, he saw a teenage girl standing on the porch, no older than sixteen.
Before she could speak, Frank snapped, “I don’t want to buy anything, I don’t want to join any church, I don’t support homeless kids or kittens, and I’m not interested in environmental issues.” Without waiting for a response, he slammed the door shut.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
He turned to leave but froze when the doorbell rang again. With a sigh, he shuffled back to his chair, grabbed the remote, and turned up the TV volume.
The weather report showed a hurricane warning for the city. Frank glanced at it briefly, then shook his head.
“Doesn’t matter to me,” he mumbled. His basement was built to withstand anything.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
The doorbell didn’t stop. It kept ringing, over and over. Five minutes passed, then ten, then fifteen. Each ring grated on Frank’s nerves. Finally, he stomped back to the door, muttering to himself. He flung it open with a scowl.
“What?! What do you want?!” he barked, his voice echoing down the quiet street.
The girl stood there, calm, her eyes fixed on him. “You’re Frank, right? I need to talk to you,” she said.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Frank narrowed his eyes. “Let’s say I am. Who are you, and why are you on my porch? Where are your parents?”
“My name is Zoe. My mom died recently. I don’t have any parents now,” she said, her voice steady.
“I couldn’t care less,” Frank snapped. He grabbed the edge of the door and started to push it closed.
Before it could shut, Zoe pressed her hand against it. “Aren’t you curious why I’m here?” she asked, her tone unwavering.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“The only thing I’m curious about,” Frank growled, “is how long it’ll take you to leave my property and never come back!” He shoved her hand off the door and slammed it so hard the frame rattled.
The doorbell stopped. Frank peered through the curtains, checking the yard. It was empty.
With a deep sigh, he turned away, feeling victorious. Little did he know, this was only the beginning of his nightmare.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
The next morning, Frank woke up, grumbling as he dragged himself to the front door to grab his newspaper.
His jaw dropped when he saw the state of his house. Smashed eggs dripped down the walls, their sticky residue glinting in the sunlight.
Large, crude words were scrawled across the paint in messy black letters, making his blood boil.
“What in the world?!” he shouted, looking around the street, but it was empty.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Grinding his teeth, he stormed back inside, grabbed his cleaning supplies, and spent the entire day scrubbing.
His hands ached, his back throbbed, and he swore under his breath with every stroke.
By evening, exhausted but relieved to see the walls clean, he stepped onto his porch with a cup of tea.
But his relief was short-lived. Garbage was scattered across his yard—cans, old food, and torn papers littered the lawn.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“Stupid girl!” he shouted at no one in particular, his voice echoing through the quiet neighborhood.
He stomped down the steps, grabbed some trash bags, and began cleaning. As he bent to pick up a rotten tomato, his eyes caught a note taped to his mailbox.
He yanked it off and read aloud, “Just listen to me, and I’ll stop bothering you. —Zoe.” At the bottom, scrawled in bold numbers, was a phone number.
Frank crumpled the note and hurled it into the trash.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
The next morning, loud shouting woke him. He looked outside to see a group of people waving signs.
“Who the hell are you?!” he yelled, opening the window.
“We’re here for the environment! Thanks for letting us use your yard!” a hippie-looking woman called.
Fuming, Frank grabbed a broom and chased them off. Once they were gone, he noticed a caricature of himself drawn on the driveway with the caption, “I hate everyone.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
On his front door was another note:
“Just listen to me, or I’ll come up with more ways to annoy you.
—Zoe.
P.S. The paint doesn’t wash off.”
And again at the bottom was a phone number.
Frank stormed inside, slamming the door behind him. He grabbed the phone and dialed Zoe’s number with shaking hands. “Come to my house. Now,” he barked and hung up before she could respond.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
When Zoe arrived, her jaw dropped. Two police officers stood on the porch beside Frank, their expressions serious.
“What the—? Are you kidding me?!” Zoe shouted, glaring at him.
Frank folded his arms and smirked. “You think you’re so clever, don’t you? Guess what? You’re not.”
The officers cuffed Zoe. “You old jerk!” she yelled as they led her to the car. Frank watched, smug, believing this was the end of his troubles.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
The next day, the city issued a hurricane warning. The winds howled, bending trees and tossing debris down the empty streets.
Frank looked out the window as he prepared to head for his basement. His eyes widened when he spotted Zoe outside, clutching her backpack and stumbling against the wind.
“What are you doing out there?!” Frank shouted, flinging open the door. The wind nearly tore it from his hand.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Zoe turned, her hair whipping around her face. “What does it look like?! I’m looking for shelter!” she yelled, her voice barely audible over the roar of the storm. “I have nowhere else to go!”
“Then come inside!” Frank barked, stepping onto the porch.
“No way!” Zoe snapped. “I’d rather face this hurricane than go in your house!”
Frank gritted his teeth. “You were desperate to talk to me yesterday. What changed now?”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“I realized you’re a selfish, grumpy idiot!” Zoe shot back.
Frank had enough. He stomped down the steps, grabbed her backpack, and hauled her toward the door.
“Let me go!” Zoe screamed, twisting against his grip. “I’m not going with you! Let me go!”
“Are you out of your mind?!” Frank bellowed, slamming the door behind them. “Stay out there, and you’ll die!”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“Maybe that’s fine! I have nothing left anyway! ” Zoe yelled, her face red. “And do you think your stupid house is some kind of fortress?!”
“My basement is fortified,” Frank growled. “It’s survived worse than this. Follow me.”
Zoe glared at him but hesitated. After a moment, she sighed and trudged after him toward the basement.
The basement was surprisingly cozy. It looked like a small, well-used living room. A single bed sat tucked in one corner, with shelves of old books lining the walls.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
A pile of paintings leaned against the far side, their colors muted by age. Zoe glanced around, unimpressed, then dropped onto the couch with a loud sigh.
“You wanted to say something? Now’s your chance,” Frank said, standing stiffly near the stairs.
“Now you’re ready to listen?” Zoe asked, raising an eyebrow.
“We’re stuck here for who knows how long. Might as well get it over with,” Frank replied, leaning against a shelf and folding his arms.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“Fine,” Zoe said. She reached into her backpack, pulled out some folded papers, and handed them to him.
Frank frowned as he took them. “What’s this?”
“My emancipation papers,” Zoe said, her tone matter-of-fact.
Frank blinked. “What?”
“It’s so I can live on my own,” Zoe explained. “Without parents. Without guardians.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“How old are you?” Frank asked, squinting at the documents.
“Sixteen… almost,” Zoe replied, her voice firm.
“And why do you need my signature?” Frank asked, looking at her sharply.
Zoe met his eyes without hesitation. “Because you’re my only living relative. I’m your granddaughter. Remember your wife? Your daughter?”
Frank’s face paled. “That’s impossible.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“It’s very possible,” Zoe said with a cold laugh. “Social services gave me your address. When Grandma talked about you, I thought she was exaggerating. Now I see she didn’t tell me half of it.”
“I’m not signing this. You’re still a child. The system can take care of you.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“You’re joking, right?” Zoe snapped. “You were a terrible father and husband! You left Grandma and Mom to chase some fantasy about painting. Your art isn’t even good—I was better at five! And now, after all that, you won’t even sign a piece of paper to help me?”
Frank’s hands clenched. “It was my dream to be an artist!” he shouted.
“It was my dream too!” Zoe shot back. “But Grandma’s gone. Mom’s gone. And you’re the only family I have. You’re also the worst person I’ve ever met!”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
They sat in silence after that, the tension heavy in the room. Frank knew Zoe was right. He had been selfish. Back then, he had seen only his art, blind to everything else.
After two hours, Frank finally spoke. “Do you even have a place to stay?”
“I’m working on it,” Zoe muttered. “I’ve got a job. I still have Mom’s car. I can manage.”
“You should be in school, not figuring out how to survive,” Frank said.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“Life doesn’t work out the way we want,” Zoe replied, her voice soft but firm.
For the next few hours, Frank sat silently, watching Zoe sketch in her notebook. Her pencil moved with confidence, every stroke purposeful.
He hated to admit it, but her art was bold, creative, and alive. It was far better than anything he had ever painted.
The radio crackled to life, its monotone voice announcing the hurricane had passed. The storm was over.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Frank stood, his joints stiff, and gestured toward the stairs. “Let’s go up,” he said. Once upstairs, he glanced at Zoe and handed her the signed documents without a word.
“You were right,” he said, his voice low. “I was a terrible husband. A lousy father too. I can’t change any of that. But maybe I can help change someone’s future.”
Zoe stared at the papers for a moment, then slipped them into her backpack. “Thanks,” she said quietly.
Frank looked at her and nodded. “Don’t stop painting. You’ve got talent.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Zoe slung the bag over her shoulder. “Life decided otherwise,” she said, heading for the door.
“You can stay here,” Frank said suddenly.
Zoe froze. “What?”
“You can live here,” Frank said. “I can’t undo my mistakes, but I also can’t throw my own granddaughter out on the street.”
“Do you really want me to stay?” Zoe asked.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“Not exactly,” Frank admitted. “But I think we might both learn something.”
Zoe smirked. “Fine. Thanks. But I’m taking all your art supplies. I’m way better than you.”
She turned toward the basement. Frank shook his head. “Stubborn and arrogant. You get that from me.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Tell us what you think about this story and share it with your friends. It might inspire them and brighten their day.
Two Brothers Couldn’t Share Their Grandfather’s Inheritance Until the Old Man Told Them a Wise Way to Do It
John and Matt have never seen eye to eye. From childhood squabbles to adult disagreements, their rivalry only grows stronger. When their beloved grandfather passed away, he left them a sizable inheritance, but there’s a twist. The brothers must find a fair way to split everything. Can the siblings set aside their differences and honor their grandfather’s last wish?
Why do some siblings never get along?
Grayscale image of two boys | Source: Pexels
John and Matt grew up in a cozy suburban home. As children, they constantly competed for their parents’ attention and praise, which led to many arguments. Their parents tried so hard to create harmony between them, but nothing seemed to work.
Two serious-looking boys posing outside their home | Source: Midjourney
Their beloved Grandfather Dudus was always in the middle, trying to reconcile his grandsons. He would sit them down and share wisdom and stories, hoping to mend their bond.
“Brothers should be each other’s best friends,” he often said, but his words fell on deaf ears. John and Matt’s quarrels continued, and the bitterness followed them into adulthood.
A grandfather and his two grandsons | Source: Midjourney
John was the older brother, and he always felt a need to prove himself. He wanted to be the best at everything.
Matt, who was just two years younger, resented always being in his brother’s shadow. He wanted recognition, too, but felt overshadowed by John’s achievements.
Two young men standing with their backs facing each other | Source: Freepik
Their parents were exhausted from the constant bickering. They hoped the brothers would find common ground one day. But that day never came. Small disagreements over toys and games turned into bigger conflicts over achievements.
Grandfather Dudus’s efforts never managed to bridge the gap either. He tried his best to end the conflict between the boys, but John and Matt couldn’t see past their rivalry.
An elderly man sitting on a couch with two boys | Source: Midjourney
Years passed, and the rivalry grew more intense.
John excelled in school, sports, and later in his career. Matt tried different paths to outshine his brother but never felt successful. Their childhood arguments became adult resentments. Family gatherings became tense and uncomfortable.
Two men drinking beer | Source: Freepik
As adults, their relationship remained strained. The unresolved tensions of their childhood had a lasting impact. Despite their parents’ hopes and Grandfather Dudus’s wisdom, John and Matt never found peace. They never became friends.
Then, one day, their beloved Grandpa passed away. John and Matt were heartbroken.
People attending a burial | Source: Unsplash
Despite never listening to him when he tried to make peace between them, they had always loved him deeply. Grandpa Dudus had always been there for them, sharing stories, giving advice, and showing them unconditional love.
After the funeral, the brothers were invited to Dudus’s lawyer’s office. The two brothers shifted in their seats as the lawyer, Mr. Campbell, finally entered and sat down.
A male lawyer | Source: Freepik
“Thank you for coming, boys,” he began as he pulled out a document. “Your grandfather has left a substantial inheritance for both of you. This includes a house, some land, a car, and a significant amount of money in the bank.”
John and Matt exchanged looks, their old rivalry flaring up. The lawyer continued, “But there’s a condition. You can only use the inheritance when you come to me and say you’ve split it fairly, with no complaints.”
A serious-looking man in suit | Source: Freepik
John frowned. “That’s ridiculous! I deserve more! I always took care of Grandpa!”
Matt shook his head. “You? You were never around. I was the one visiting him every week.”
The lawyer raised a hand to calm them. “Gentlemen, your grandfather wanted this to bring you together, not drive you apart.”
A man in suit talking to a person | Source: Midjourney
John’s voice was sharp. “But I did more for him! I should get more!”
“Cut it, John! You’re just trying to take everything, as usual!” Matt sneered.
Two young men in suit chatting at a lawyer’s office | Source: Midjourney
Their voices rose, echoing in the office. The lawyer sighed, watching them argue. He even tried to interrupt them, but neither of the two men would listen.
“I’m not giving in to you, Matt,” John stood up, anger flashing in his eyes. “I deserve a bigger share. I’m the older one.”
A young man in suit talking to his brother | Source: Midjourney
Matt stood up, too, matching his brother’s glare. “How does that make you entitled to a bigger share? If you want to keep doing this, fine! Then we both get nothing. Are you happy with that?”
At that moment, the room fell silent. The lawyer looked at them both and sighed. “Is this how you want to remember your grandfather? By fighting over his gift?”
A senior man in suit looking serious | Source: Freepik
John and Matt looked away, their anger still simmering but mixed with shame.
“Your grandfather believed in both of you. He wanted you to work together. I suggest you take some time to think about this, boys. His legacy is in your hands,” Mr. Campbell finished.
Last will and testament | Source: Unsplash
And so it happened that a week later, in John’s living room, the brothers sat down to negotiate the inheritance. The atmosphere was tense as they each proposed different distributions.
John wanted the house and half of the money, leaving Matt the land, the car, and the rest of the money. Matt, however, felt the house should be shared, with the money and other assets split evenly.
A wooden house and a person stacking coins | Source: Pexels
“You’re just trying to take more than your share!” John accused, his voice rising with a sense of superiority.
Matt, frustrated, shot back, “And you’re being selfish, as always. This isn’t just about you!”
Two men arguing at home | Source: Freepik
Their voices echoed through the house, and every attempt at negotiation ended in frustration. Neither brother was willing to give an inch, and their relationship, already fragile, seemed on the verge of breaking entirely.
“We need to think of what Grandpa wanted,” Matt said, trying to calm the situation. “He wanted us to work together.”
John scoffed. “You think I don’t know that? But I did more for him! I deserve more!”
A man getting aggressive while talking to another man in black | Source: Freepik
“That’s not true, and you know it,” Matt replied, his frustration growing. “We both loved him!”
“You’re impossible to deal with,” John said, shaking his head.
“And you’re just as stubborn,” Matt replied.
A man hiding his one eye with two fingers | Source: Pexels
The brothers eventually sat in silence, each lost in their thoughts. They realized that something had to change, but neither knew how to make the first move.
Meanwhile, the lawyer’s words echoed in their minds: “Your grandfather believed in both of you. His legacy is in your hands.”
A smiling old man | Source: Pexels
Days passed, and the brothers were no closer to an agreement. One afternoon, while arguing on a busy city street, John and Matt were at it again.
“I should get the house and the car,” John insisted, his voice rising. “I took care of Grandpa more than you did!”
Matt’s face turned red. “That’s not true! I visited him every week. You just want the best parts for yourself.”
Two men during an argument | Source: Midjourney
Their heated argument caught the attention of a homeless man sitting nearby. He watched them for a while before approaching.
“I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation,” he said gently.
John and Matt stopped arguing and looked at the man with irritation. “What do you want?” Matt snapped.
A homeless man sitting near metal post | Source: Pexels
“Yeah, this is none of your business,” John added dismissively.
The homeless man smiled kindly. “I heard you two arguing about your grandfather’s inheritance. I once heard a parable about two men who couldn’t divide a plot of land. So they came up with an idea. One of the men would divide the plot into two parts as he decided and thought would be fair, and the other was to be the first to choose one of the parts for himself. Thus, the first man did everything to make the parts equal. The other simply chose from the two already equal parts.”
Man in black jacket standing near sidewalk | Source: Pexels
The brothers exchanged glances.
“Maybe we should try it,” John said reluctantly.
Matt nodded, equally hesitant but willing to give it a shot. “Alright, let’s see if it works,” he agreed.
Two men chatting in a street | Source: Midjourney
And so, a few days later, they met in John’s living room again. The tension was still there, but the memory of the homeless man’s story gave them hope. John took a deep breath and said, “I’ll divide the inheritance. You choose first.”
Matt nodded. “Okay, let’s see what you come up with.”
Two men chatting at home | Source: Midjourney
John carefully divided the assets: the house, the car, the land, and the money. He made sure each part was as equal as possible. When he finished, he looked at Matt. “Here you go.”
Matt studied the divisions, his face thoughtful. After a long pause, he pointed to one half. “I’ll take this one.”
John nodded, a sense of relief washing over him. “Alright. That’s fair.”
Two men at home | Source: Midjourney
A week later, John and Matt found themselves back in the lawyer’s office, but this time, their demeanor was markedly different from their previous visit.
When they presented their decision to Mr. Campbell, he was pleasantly surprised by the fairness of their division. “For the first time, I see you two agreeing on something,” he remarked, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
A smiling man sitting with a laptop and some documents | Source: Pexels
John and Matt exchanged glances. “We realized it was the best way to honor Grandpa,” John said.
Matt nodded. “It wasn’t easy, but we managed.”
Mr. Campbell looked at them, pleased. “It’s a testament to your grandfather’s wisdom and his enduring influence on your lives. Well done, boys.”
A senior man looking genuinely pleased | Source: Pexels
As they signed the necessary documents, Mr. Campbell observed the transformation in their relationship. The brothers, once bitter rivals, now stood as partners and friends.
Walking out of the lawyer’s office, John turned to Matt and extended his hand. “Let’s make this work,” he said sincerely.
Matt shook his brother’s hand firmly. “Agreed. For Grandpa.”
Two happy men walking together | Source: Freepik
“I still can’t believe we did it, though. We actually worked together.”
Matt smiled. “Yeah, it feels good. Grandpa would be proud.”
John chuckled. “I never thought we’d see the day when we weren’t at each other’s throats.”
An old man holding a cane | Source: Pexels
Matt laughed. “Me neither. But here we are.”
Leave a Reply