After I left for college in another city, I finally felt as if I could make a difference. My mom, Paula, had spent most of her life giving first to my dad, then to me, and finally to her job.
She worked long hours as a hospital administrator, always putting others first.
My mom, Paula, had spent most of her life giving first to my dad.
When she told me she was seeing someone from work, I was happy for her! She deserved love, companionship, support — all of it. That man turned out to be Dennis.
I met him briefly during my senior year, and to be honest, he wasn’t awful. He smiled too much, talked too loudly, and always seemed to steer the conversation toward himself. But he didn’t raise any red flags.
At least not then.
He didn’t raise any red flags.
My mom looked hopeful when she was with him. So I smiled too, nodded, and told her I was happy if she was happy. They got married a few months after I moved.
I didn’t think much of it. Life got busy. I had exams, internships, and a life of my own.
But I still called her often. And for years, everything seemed fine.
Mom’d tell me about Dennis’s fishing trips or how they were planning to see the fall leaves in Wisconsin. I believed she was happy — or at least that’s what I thought.
But then, something changed.
For years, everything seemed fine.
It wasn’t obvious at first, just little things. My mom was sad but tried to hide it.
I’d ask her directly if everything was okay and how she was. She didn’t even pause before quickly saying, “I’m fine.” It was the way people say they’re fine when they’re anything but.
One Sunday morning, I called her as usual.
“Hi, Mom. You sound tired.”
“Oh, I’m fine,” she said quickly. “Just a lot of work lately.”
My mom was sad but tried to hide it.
“You sure?”
“Mm-hmm. Just busy. You know how it is.”
But I didn’t believe her. That night I couldn’t sleep. I thought about the way she said the word “busy,” as if it hurt.
So I took the next day off work and drove straight to her house early the next morning without telling her. I’d decided to surprise her.
I parked at the end of the street since the driveway appeared to be packed with snow. There was no way my little Civic was getting through that without chains.
I’d decided to surprise her.
When I walked up the slippery path before I rang the bell, I didn’t expect to see what I did through the window.
My mom was inside the house. Her leg was wrapped in a cast. I watched as she scrubbed floors and carried laundry, all while moving from room to room in a two-story house, leaning on furniture to stay upright!
I tried the front door, and it cracked open.
There was my mom — sweating, pale, leaning hard on the kitchen doorframe.
Her leg was wrapped in a cast.
“Mom?! What happened?!” I shouted as I stepped inside.
She tried to smile, but it barely formed. “Oh… honey. I slipped a few days ago. I broke my leg.”
“Why didn’t you call me?”
She looked away. “I didn’t want to worry you.”
“Mom, you’re hobbling around on a broken leg. That’s not something you keep to yourself.”
“I didn’t want to worry you.”
Then, I really looked at the house. The kitchen was spotless. The floors gleamed. A vacuum sat in the hallway. A mop bucket was beside the stairs.
“Why are you… cleaning while injured?” I asked, my voice rising.
She gave me a small nod and walked — no, limped — past me into the living room.
“Dennis’s daughter is coming tonight,” she said quietly. “He wants the house to look perfect.”
“Are you serious?” I turned, stunned. “He’s making you clean the house because of her?”
“Why are you… cleaning while injured?”
She didn’t say anything.
“Mom, what’s really going on?”
She sighed and finally sat down, cradling her leg gently on the ottoman. “Your stepfather said it was important. His daughter, Kylie, is very particular and demanding. He wants her to feel welcome.”
“Kylie? The grown woman with the Range Rover? The wealthy one who lives in that gated community?”
“Your stepfather said it was important.”
“He told me she’s obsessed with luxury and cleanliness. I am supposed to shovel the snow all the way to the garage, too. So Kylie could park comfortably when she arrives this evening because Dennis doesn’t want to be ’embarrassed.’”
I stared at her in disbelief. “With a broken leg?”
“He said it was just snow. That I could use the shovel to support myself.”
My hands were shaking now. “Where is he?”
“I am supposed to shovel the snow all the way to the garage, too.’”
She hesitated.
“Mom,” I said firmly. “Tell me the truth. I’ll find out, anyway.”
“He went ice fishing. With Greg and Neil. Said he’d be back before dinner. He told me to handle everything.”
That was it! I didn’t scream and destroy him, but I didn’t yell.
I knew a man like Dennis wouldn’t respond to noise. He’d respond to action and learn from consequences.
“Mom,” I said, taking her hand gently, “go and sit in my car. I parked down the street.”
That was it!
I helped her wrap up in her coat and grabbed a few blankets from the upstairs closet. It hurt to watch her struggle down the porch steps. I held her elbow the entire way.
She slid into the passenger seat, exhausted and trembling, and I turned the heater on full blast.
Then, I pulled out my phone and started making calls. First, I found a private snow removal service and told them I needed all the snow from the three surrounding streets moved within the hour onto our driveway and yard.
“Ma’am, that’s three blocks of work,” the guy said. “You sure?”
“I’m sure. Charge me what you need.”
I needed all the snow from the three surrounding streets.
Then I called the city. I told them about an unsafe property, about a woman with a broken leg being forced to shovel snow alone.
I gave them her name, her doctor’s name, and the photos I had just taken: close-ups of her cast, the snow before the snow removal service arrived, and the mop bucket inside the house.
Finally, I called my mom’s physician and asked them to send over a nurse to check on her, just to document things officially. It took about 45 minutes for everything to come together.
Then I called the city.
I stood by my car as the crew arrived in a massive truck.
They had plows, salt sprayers, and thick industrial snow pushers. They didn’t just clear the snow — they piled it up in high mounds on every edge of the property, creating a frozen fortress around Dennis’s pristine two-story house!
They blocked the garage. Buried the porch. Pushed snow against every ground-floor window!
It looked like an avalanche had swallowed the house whole!
They piled it up in high mounds on every edge of the property.
About an hour later, I heard the crunch of tires on slush and turned to see Dennis’s old gray pickup creeping up the street. The second he saw the snow piled high against the driveway, he hit the brakes hard!
His mouth fell open. He stared dumbfounded, then slowly pulled up along the curb.
“What is this?!” he shouted. “What happened to my house?!”
I didn’t move, leaning against my car. My mom was still bundled in the passenger seat.
Dennis stormed up the sidewalk, slipping twice before catching himself.
“What happened to my house?!”
“Who did this? Who the hell did this?! Call the police!”
“You might want to wait a minute before doing that,” I said calmly, coming into view.
“What? Elsa? What are you…?”
I gestured toward the end of the block. Two city vehicles turned the corner and parked just behind his truck.
Out stepped a city inspector and a woman with a clipboard. Behind them came a black SUV. Kylie.
She stepped out, her long blonde hair tucked neatly under a wool hat. Her coat looked like it cost more than my car. She adjusted her sunglasses and took one look at the property before freezing in place.
I gestured toward the end of the block.
“What… the…” she whispered.
Then her eyes shifted to the car. To my mom. Her mouth fell open.
“Is that… Paula?” she asked, striding closer.
My mom smiled slowly. “Hi, Kylie.”
Kylie rushed over and knelt on the passenger side. “What happened to you? Your leg — oh my God. You’re in a cast!”
My mom tried to sit up. “It’s alright. I slipped a few days ago.”
“You’re in a cast!”
Dennis stepped between them. “It’s not what it looks like. She insisted on cleaning up for you herself. I told her not to.”
Kylie didn’t even blink. “Wait, you made her clean the house with a broken leg?”
“I didn’t —” Dennis stammered. “She said she could handle it!”
“She said?” Kylie stood up slowly. “What is wrong with you?!”
“Hey!” he shouted, turning red. “She’s my wife!”
“Then act like it!” Kylie snapped. “God, I can’t believe this!”
“What is wrong with you?!”
The city inspector stepped forward, flipping through a folder.
“Sir, we received a report earlier today about potential neglect and unsafe conditions at this property. We have photo evidence and a formal witness statement.”
Dennis turned on me. “You did this? You little —”
“Careful,” I said, stepping forward. “You want to talk about how you left your injured wife alone in a two-story house and went fishing?”
“You did this?”
“I — she said she was fine!”
“She said that because she was scared,” I said sharply. “You gave her an order and left. You didn’t care how she managed.”
The inspector said, “We’ll need to conduct an assessment and possibly open a case. Given the medical condition involved, this could escalate depending on the findings.”
Dennis started pacing in the snow, waving his arms. “This is insane! I didn’t do anything illegal! It’s snowing! Everybody shovels snow!”
“She said that because she was scared.”
“Not everybody has a fractured femur while doing it,” I said coldly.
Kylie looked at him as if she had never seen him before.
“You embarrassed me,” he said to my mom, suddenly. “In front of the city, in front of the neighbors —”
I cut him off. “You made her clean so you wouldn’t be embarrassed in front of Kylie. Remember?”
Kylie turned back to my mom and took her hand gently. “I’m so sorry. I’m also sorry on his behalf. For all of this. You shouldn’t have had to go through that.”
“You embarrassed me.”
My mom gave a weak smile. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”
I helped my mom out of the passenger seat of the car and into the backseat. Kylie helped me fold the blankets over her lap.
Dennis was still standing there, shouting at the inspector, red-faced and furious. But nobody paid him much attention anymore.
The driveway was still buried. The porch was unusable, and every window was pressed in by thick walls of packed snow. It was a fortress of cold and silence. We drove away.
The driveway was still buried.
I brought my mom home with me that night. We made soup, and I helped her change into soft pajamas.
She filed for divorce two weeks later.
And Dennis? Well, last I heard, he tried to dig the snow out himself. Slipped on the porch and twisted his back. Karma really does wear boots sometimes.
The house sat empty for a while. The neighborhood kids started calling it the ice palace. People slowed down when they drove by. Some took pictures. I didn’t care.
He tried to dig the snow out himself.
But in my small apartment, my mom healed. She took long naps and drank hot tea with honey. I brought her flowers every Friday.
One night, she said, “You really saved me, you know.”
“I just did what anyone would’ve done.”
“Not everyone would’ve seen through me. You did.”
“Well. You’re a terrible liar.”
She laughed a full, real laugh. And that was the sound I’d missed the most.
But in my small apartment, my mom healed.
