When Nicole’s stepmother, Susan, called her with an exciting announcement, Nicole couldn’t help but feel a little suspicious. Susan, who had never been a close family member and often barely tolerated Nicole’s presence, was offering a “priceless” gift. Naturally, Nicole’s curiosity was piqued, but so was her wariness.
“You’re going to love it, Nicole!” Susan had gushed over the phone. “It’s absolutely priceless! Come over later today, and I’ll show you.”
Nicole had a bad feeling in her gut, but she couldn’t resist the pull of intrigue. Curiosity killed the cat, Nic, she reminded herself as she climbed into her car.
Her mind raced as she drove to her dad’s house. Would Susan surprise her with something meaningful this time? Or would it be another one of her random, thoughtless gifts? Nicole couldn’t help but hope for something different, even though she had learned not to expect much from Susan.
When Nicole arrived, her dad greeted her with a smile.
“She’s in the basement,” he told her. “Susan is finally cleaning out her clutter. It’s about time, to be honest. Come, have a cup of tea.”
But Nicole was too eager to find out what this “priceless” gift was.
“No, Dad, I’m going straight to see the gift!” she said with a smile, trying to hide her anxiety. “I’m really curious!”
Her dad chuckled, oblivious to her mixed feelings. “Alright then, let’s get Susan, and we’ll have some tea and cake afterwards. Susan made lemon cake today.”
Nicole waited in the foyer, pacing nervously. It was just like her dad to be so relaxed about Susan’s oddities. But she couldn’t shake her doubts. Last year’s gift had been a set of mismatched water bottles and socks. This year’s surprise? Would it be any better?
Suddenly, she heard footsteps on the stairs. She held her breath, and there they were—Susan and her dad, dragging the most hideous, smelly couch Nicole had ever seen.
“Happy Birthday!” Susan beamed, her smile wide and proud as if she were handing over a new car.
Nicole stared in horror at the couch. The fabric was stained and torn, and the smell? It was unbearable, like something that hadn’t been cleaned in decades. Her dad watched her expectantly, hoping she’d be thrilled. But Nicole didn’t know what to do. Refusing the gift would crush her father, and Susan knew that.
Nicole took a deep breath. “Thank you, Susan… it’s… um, unique,” she said, forcing a smile.
She immediately called her boyfriend, Derek. “Hey, can you come over with your van? I need to get this couch out of here.”
“I’ll be there in about ten minutes,” Derek said, sounding cheerful as always. “I’m just gaming, but I’ll be done soon.”
Nicole could tell what Susan was up to—she was using Nicole as a free moving service. And the couch? It was a disaster. But for her dad’s sake, she agreed to take it home.
By the time Derek arrived, Nicole was sipping tea, trying to gather her thoughts. The two of them loaded the couch into Derek’s van, and he followed her home. They were planning on having dinner together afterward, but the thought of that couch haunted her.
“This thing’s a wreck,” Derek muttered as they drove. “Looks like it’s been through a storm or something.”
Nicole sighed. She had almost decided to just leave the couch on the curb and let someone else deal with it. But then something inside her shifted. She wasn’t going to let Susan win. This couch wouldn’t defeat her.
“I’m going to fix it,” Nicole said firmly, her mind made up.
Derek raised an eyebrow. “You sure about that? This thing looks like it’s beyond saving.”
But Nicole’s determination only grew stronger. “I’m going to restore it, Derek. Watch me.”
The first task was dealing with the smell. The stench from the couch seemed to seep into the air, choking her with every breath. But Nicole was ready. She found an online recipe for a DIY deodorizer: white vinegar, water, and lavender essential oil. She mixed it all together and sprayed it generously across the couch, letting it sit for hours.
At first, the vinegar smell was overpowering, but after some time, it faded, taking the horrible odor with it.
Next, she tackled the stains. They were everywhere, from spills to dirt that had soaked into the fabric over the years. But Nicole didn’t shy away. She mixed up a cleaning solution with baking soda, hydrogen peroxide, and a bit of dish soap, then scrubbed away the stains with a soft brush. As she worked, she began to notice a change—the stains were lightening, and hope sparked in her chest.
Then came the rips and tears. These were more than just cosmetic damage; the couch needed real repairs. Nicole sighed and called Derek, who was in the kitchen.
“Derek, I need material. This isn’t something a needle and thread can fix,” she said.
“Okay,” Derek replied while marinating chicken for dinner. “But why the rush?”
“Because if I don’t fix it now, it’ll be another project that I never finish,” she answered, determination in her voice.
Derek laughed. “Go ahead, Nic. I’ve got dinner covered.”
Nicole drove to the local thrift store and found some fabric that almost matched, plus a few random buttons and frills. She used fabric glue for the bigger holes and iron-on fabric mender for the smaller ones. She finished off the look with decorative buttons and a tufting design, making the couch appear almost intentional.
“Alright, take a break,” Derek said, taking the last flatbread out of the pan. “You can finish it tomorrow.”
Nicole, her arms sore from scrubbing, agreed. “I’ll take a break… but tomorrow, I’m back at it.”
The next morning, Nicole got right back to work. She steamed every inch of the couch, making sure it was spotless and every fabric fiber was fresh and alive again. Hours later, she was exhausted but proud of her work.
“Damn, Nic!” she whispered to herself, admiring the couch. “Well done, girl.”
Feeling bold, Nicole decided to post the couch on a social media marketplace for $5,000. It was a bit of a joke, but she figured, why not? Maybe someone would find it worthwhile after all the hard work she put into it.
To her surprise, within hours, she got a message from someone named Maggie, asking to buy the couch.
The next day, Nicole received a message from someone living in a ritzy part of town, ready to pay the $5,000 for the couch. Nicole was in disbelief but accepted the offer. Maggie came over to test it out.
“This is perfect for my art studio!” Maggie said. “I can’t believe you’re parting with it. Why would you ever want to sell it?”
Nicole felt a little guilty. “I’m just redecorating,” she said, trying to downplay the situation. “But it’s all yours now. Enjoy it.”
A few days later, Susan showed up at Nicole’s door, her face red with fury.
“You ungrateful little brat! How dare you sell my gift?” she screamed.
Nicole stood her ground. “Susan, you gave me junk. I put in the time, the effort, the sweat. The only reason this couch has any value now is because of me. If you wanted to sell it, you should’ve done it yourself.”
But Susan wasn’t backing down.
“It was my couch!” she shouted. “I expect half the money! That’s $2,500!”
Nicole raised an eyebrow. “No, Susan. You gave it to me. I restored it. The money is mine.”
Susan stormed off, her anger visible. “You’ll regret this!” she yelled.
Nicole watched her leave, shaking her head. She had no idea what Susan would do next, but she was certain about one thing: she was ready to stand her ground, no matter what. She’d earned that money, and she wasn’t giving it up to anyone.
