Being a working mom caring for twin boys, Bev is often exhausted. After one particularly tiring day, she wakes up the next morning ready to tackle the chores she left undone the night before, only to discover they’ve been done for her. But who did it?
Balancing work, taking care of her energetic six-year-old twins, Jake and Liam, and managing household chores has been overwhelming for Bev. By the end of the day, she feels like she’s running on fumes, living in survival mode.
Last night was especially stressful. Bev stayed up late, hoping to clean the kitchen and prep the boys’ lunchboxes for school, but eventually gave up. “This is tomorrow’s problem,” she yawned as she set her alarm for an early wake-up, hoping to get a head start on the day.
“I just need a day,” she said to herself as she got into bed. “I just need to breathe.” She could hear her boys snoring softly as she dozed off.
When her alarm went off the next morning, Bev dragged herself out of bed, dreading the tasks ahead. She loved her boys, loved being a mom, and loved doing things for them. But as she walked into the kitchen, she stopped in her tracks.
“What on earth is this?” she said aloud.
To her astonishment, the kitchen was spotless, gleaming from a thorough cleaning. On the counter, she saw two neatly packed lunchboxes, complete with healthy snacks and little notes for her boys.
“Mommy, you packed us extra snacks!” Jake exclaimed, rubbing his sleepy eyes.
Bev was stunned, unable to figure out who could have done this. “Yes!” she lied, trying to hide her true feelings. “You’re growing boys and need snacks.” The boys beamed at her.
“Now, eat your cereal, and then we’ll get you both dressed for school.”
While the boys were occupied, Bev checked the house for any signs of an intruder but found nothing unusual. “Maybe it was Mom,” she thought, picking up the phone to call her.
“No, honey,” her mother said when Bev explained. “I didn’t come over yet. Maybe it was that nice old neighbor. She loves the boys.”
“Yeah, maybe,” Bev agreed, but she was still puzzled. “You need to make sure that your doors are locked, Bev. This isn’t safe, even if someone just wants to help. Are you sure everything else is fine?”
“Let me check,” Bev said, looking around the living room. The TV, sound system, and laptop were all perfectly in place. “Yeah, everything is fine!” she said.
As the boys finished their breakfast, Bev made herself a smoothie. Tears of relief and gratitude filled her eyes as she realized someone had gone out of their way to help her when she felt at her wits’ end. Though she didn’t know who the mysterious helper was, their kindness gave her the boost she needed to start her day.
At work, Bev told her friend Mel about what had happened. “I don’t understand why you’re not freaked out, Bev,” Mel said, making coffee.
“Because nothing was taken, and nothing was out of place,” Bev explained. “The kitchen was just cleaned, and the boys’ lunches were sorted. It was very sweet!”
“Yeah, but you should speak to the police, Bev. You have two young kids. You cannot take this for granted.”
Bev nodded. She hadn’t thought about it that way. She didn’t think anyone wanted to harm them, but she didn’t want to risk her sons’ safety either.
“Okay,” she told Mel. “I’ll look into it further.” But after Mel’s words, the idea of someone being in her house without her knowing felt unsettling.
The next morning, Bev decided to hide in the pantry to see what was happening. From her hiding place, she saw the window being opened and a man climbing in. He began washing the dishes and preparing the lunch boxes.
“Who are you?” she demanded, pushing the door open. The man looked startled.
“Please, don’t call the police. My name is Alex. I know this looks strange, but there’s a reason.”
Bev hesitated, ready to dial 911 if needed but curious to hear his explanation. “You need to explain right now,” she said.
“My name is Alex. A few months ago, I was homeless and starving, and you gave me food and water. That act of kindness gave me hope. Since then, I’ve been getting back on my feet. I walk past here sometimes and saw you looking tired. I wanted to help.”
“But why come through the window?” Bev asked, still wary.
“I didn’t want to intrude or scare you,” Alex explained. “I thought it was less invasive than knocking on your door so early. I just wanted to help without making you uncomfortable.”
Bev sighed, the tension in her shoulders easing. “You should have knocked on the door and explained this. It’s not safe to have you sneaking in.”
Alex nodded. “I understand. I just didn’t know how to approach without seeming like a burden.”
“Thank you, Alex,” Bev said. “Your help means more than you know, but from now on, please come through the door. We’ll figure out a way for you to help that doesn’t involve sneaking in.”
A relieved smile spread across Alex’s face. “Thank you for understanding. I’d like that.”
From that day on, Alex became a welcome presence in their home. He helped out between his job and became a friend to Bev and the boys. Every morning, he would knock on the door, and they would chat and have coffee while he cleaned up and packed lunches.
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