03
As soon as Martha left, the tension in the office evaporated. My coworkers gathered around to console me.
“Jules,” Mia Carter said, “with people like her, you just have to swallow your pride. If you don’t pay, they’ll never stop causing trouble. Don’t let it get to you.”
“Seriously,” another coworker said indignantly. “What a vulture. I can’t believe people like her exist.”
“Right? That Maynard’s Deli? I used to love their BBQ. Never going back again!”
Then, Colin Spencer, who always seemed to delight in needling me, chimed in with his usual smug tone.
“Well, Jules, technically you didn’t pay for the bags at first. She’s got a point, doesn’t she? Is it really okay to badmouth an elderly woman like this?”
“Why don’t you say it to her face if you’re so righteous?” he added with a challenge in his voice.
I turned to him, my gaze sharp as a blade.
“Colin, did you come straight out of a cave or something?”
“What? No, why would you-”
“Because you sure act like you’re covered in ancient murals. You’ve got so many cracks, you’re practically falling apart.”
His face turned green, then white, then red, but he didn’t have a comeback. He just shut his mouth and sulked.
People like him? You have to shut them down without mercy.
People like him? You have to shut them down without mercy.
That night, I told my dad about what had happened. He didn’t play the “I told you so” card. Instead, his voice was full of warmth and fury on my behalf.
“Jules, don’t worry about it. We’ll stop buying from them. People like that? They’re destined to fail.”
“And the storefront?” I asked, already knowing the answer.
“Oh, I’ll let it sit empty before I rent it to them again. No one gets to mess with my little girl.”
“When’s the lease up?”
“About a month.”
“Then don’t give them a heads–up. Just kick them out when the time comes,” I said, my tone icy.
“Consider it done,” Dad said firmly.
Dad wasn’t around much, always busy with work, and Mom, a college professor, spent most of her time on campus. It was just me at home, so their support, even from a distance, meant the world.
But truth be told, I wasn’t losing sleep over this. A dog bite doesn’t become your fault just because it hurt.
After work, I stopped by the bakery and bought a selection of fancy pastries. On a whim, I also picked up a large box of freshly cut durian–an indulgence I’d been craving.
The Maynard family had three kids. Their eldest daughter was off at college, the middle child, Lily, was 13 and in middle school, and the youngest, Noah, was still in elementary.
As I walked past Maynard’s Deli, Lily and Noah came bounding over, their faces lighting up at the sight of my bags.
Lily trailed behind me like a shadow, her eyes practically glued to the box. “Miss Jules, what did you buy? It looks so yummy!”
I saw right through her act. “Just some cake and durian,” I said bluntly. “Why? Got something to say? If not, I’m heading home.”
The word “durian” made Noah’s eyes sparkle with excitement. Without hesitation, he reached for my bag.
“Miss Jules, how did you know I wanted durian today? Open it up and let me have some!”
I lifted the bag out of his reach, my expression unamused. “If you want it so bad, go buy it yourself. Don’t have money? Ask your dad.”
Noah scrunched up his face, clearly displeased. “My dad doesn’t have your kind of money. He’d never buy us something so expensive.”
Lily quickly chimed in, “Yeah, yeah! If it weren’t for you, we’d never get to taste anything nice like that!”
How had I missed it before? These two were just as shameless as their grandmother. A house full of the same brand of entitlement.
Out of pity, I used to share with them every time they played the sweet sibling act, calling me “Miss Jules” like I was their favorite neighbor.
But today? Not a chance.
