Debbie, living in a quiet neighborhood, becomes close to her elderly neighbor, Mrs. Jenkins, and begins to care for her. But when Deb’s mother has to undergo surgery, she has no option but to go home and care for her mother… only for her to receive a horrible phone call from Steve, Mrs. Jenkins’ son, accusing her of not doing enough.
Look, I didn’t want revenge on anybody, especially not for just being kind to an elderly neighbor.
I live in a quiet neighborhood, and my next-door neighbor, Mrs. Jenkins, is an 82-year-old widow. She’s frail, lonely, and honestly, sad. It’s like she’s been forgotten by her own family. Her only son, Steve, lives just 20 minutes away but rarely visits.
Whenever I saw her on the porch, she seemed so lost, staring off into the distance. My heart went out to her, so I started helping where I could.
For over a year, I’ve been running small errands. Groceries, appointments, clearing her driveway of leaves in the fall and snow in the winter.
“I don’t know what I’d do without you, Debbie,” she said to me one morning after I dropped off her groceries, including some freshly baked bread for her breakfast.
“I’m here for anything you need, Marlene,” I said.
Honestly, it wasn’t much, but I felt good knowing that I was helping. Especially since her real family was so absent.
“Steve?” she said one day when I asked about him. “That kid means everything to me, but I know I don’t mean as much to my son. It’s okay. You’re here.”
She would always smile like I was her favorite person.
This man, who barely knew his mother’s daily life, had the audacity to accuse me of not doing enough.
But things took a dark turn when I had to leave town for a few weeks. I couldn’t help it, my mother was in the hospital after being diagnosed with fibroids and cysts that needed to be removed.
I had to be there with her. There was no way about it.
“I’m coming, Mom,” I said. “Don’t you worry about a thing.”
“But, Deb,” my mother whined. “I don’t want to disturb your routine. Dad’s here, I’ll be fine with him.”
“Mom, I work from home. I can work from anywhere,” I said sternly. “And anyway, Dad’s idea of taking care of someone is making chicken noodle soup. That’s pretty much it. You’re going for invasive surgery. You need me.”
Before I left, I stocked Mrs. Jenkins’ house with groceries, made sure that she had everything she needed, and asked our neighbor Karen to check in on her from time to time.
“I’ll be back as soon as I can, Marlene,” I said. “Don’t you worry about a thing. And I’ve asked little Josh to come over and check your mail. He knows that if there’s anything in your mailbox, he has to bring it right to you.”
“Thank you, darling,” she said. “You’re too good to me.”
I thought I’d covered all my bases.
Ten days into my stay with my parents, my phone rang while I was cooking dinner. I didn’t recognize the number, but I picked up anyway.
“Debbie?” the voice snapped when I answered. “Are you the neighbor who’s supposed to be taking care of my mom?”
It was Steve. Mrs. Jenkins’ son. The man who barely showed up for his own mother.
For a second, I got nervous, hoping that nothing had happened to her.
“I just got a call from my mother,” he continued, not even stopping for me to speak. “She ran out of milk. And you’re out of town? Why didn’t you make sure she had enough before you left?”
I was absolutely floored. This man, who barely knew his mother’s daily life, had the audacity to accuse me of not doing enough.
Me?
“Steve,” I said, trying to remain calm. “I’m out of town because my mom is in the hospital. This is where I need to be. I stocked your mom up before I left. And I spoke to Karen, our neighbor, to check on her.”
Instead of apologizing or offering to help like any normal person, he shot back.
“Well, that’s just not good enough, Debbie. If you’re going to take care of my mother, then you need to do it right! I can’t be running around getting her things whenever you drop the ball.”
I almost screamed. The audacity of this man was astounding.
How could he accuse me of dropping the ball when I’d been doing everything for her? Especially while he sat back and did nothing!
I took a deep breath.
“Steve, she’s your mother. You can’t expect me to do everything for her while you’re right there, and do nothing! Maybe you should help her out for once.”
His response was just sad.
“You’re pathetic,” he said. “You don’t even do that much for her.”
Before I could retaliate, I just cut the call. I didn’t want to say anything worse, and I also didn’t want to risk it getting back to Marlene and upsetting her.
Later, as I sat with my mom in her hospital room, I couldn’t stop replaying that conversation. By the time I got home, I knew exactly what I needed to do.
“Go home, honey,” my mother said when I told her about Steve’s phone call. “I’m doing just fine, and my progress is great. The doctor is really happy with me. I told you, Dad and I will be fine!”
I really didn’t want to leave, but I missed my own home. And I missed working from my own space, too. So, I left a few days later.
When I got back, the first thing I did was check on Mrs. Jenkins. Thankfully, she was fine. It turns out that Karen had taken care of the milk situation, and Mrs. Jenkins had no idea about the chaos Steve had stirred up.
“What? Really? He said that?” she exclaimed, shocked.
Steve had to step up. He was not happy about it. Not at all.
As glad as I was that Steve hadn’t fed her any stories about me, I wasn’t going to allow him to get away with this.
The next day, I gently told Mrs. Jenkins that I wouldn’t be able to help her as much anymore.
“I have other commitments, Marlene,” I said sadly. “I have to check on my mother more often, too. She’s going to need me for the next few weeks.”
She looked disappointed, but she reassured me that she understood.
A few weeks went by, and Steve had no choice but to step up. Naturally, he wasn’t happy about it. Sometimes, as I worked from my living room, I could see him showing up to his mother’s house. He always looked irritated, like running an errand for his mother was the biggest burden anyone could have placed on him.
When I did visit Mrs. Jenkins next, she smiled and told me that she was relying on Steve more.
“I call him for everything,” she said. “Milk, teabags, and even help with the gutters.”
One afternoon, Mrs. Jenkins asked me to help her sort through some old papers. That’s when we stumbled upon her will.
Naturally, Steve was listed as the sole beneficiary.
“It’s a shame that Steve cannot spend more time with you,” I said casually. “You know, with work and whatnot.”
“I know, dear,” Mrs. Jenkins sighed. “But he’s been like that. Sometimes I think he only sticks around for what I’ll leave him.”
That was all the confirmation I needed.
“You know, Marlene,” I said. “You don’t have to leave everything to Steve. It might be nice to donate some to charity or leave something for the people who have always been there for you. That’s a sweet gesture. Think about it.”
“You’re right, Debbie,” she said. “I’ll think about it.”
A week later, Mrs. Jenkins updated her will. Steve still got his share, but she also included several charities to get vast portions of her estate. She left a little something for me, too, though I didn’t ask for it.
It wasn’t about the money. It was about showing Steve that neglect and greed have consequences.
When Steve found out, he stormed to my house, knocking furiously on my door.
“You convinced my mother to give away my inheritance? You manipulative little…”
I cut him off before he could finish his sentence.
“I didn’t convince her of anything. Maybe if you spent more time with her, you’d know what she really wanted.”
Steve spluttered, his face turning red. He shouted a few more insults and stormed off, but I could see it in his eyes.
He knew that he had lost.
Now, the lovely Mrs. Jenkins is happier than ever, and I’m taking her to the ballet later this week. Steve is sulking, likely regretting all the time he wasted.
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And as for me? I’m happy knowing that Mrs. Jenkins isn’t being taken advantage of by Steve.
Sometimes, the best revenge is just letting someone realize their own failure.
What would you have done?
Why Michael Jackson Wore Smaller Clothes at the End of His Shows (and 8 More Revelations About His Costumes)
Michael Jackson was a picky dresser, and he wanted to stand out. That’s why his costumes had a lot of details that made everyone wonder why they were there and what they meant. For example, almost every jacket Michael Jackson wore had an armband on the right sleeve, and some of his jackets also had “777” sewn onto them.
We at Bright Side are fascinated with Michael Jackson`s wardrobe, and we`re ready to reveal some of the secrets behind his costumes!
1. Why he wore smaller costumes at the end of his shows
Michael Jackson`s dance routines were very physically strenuous, and he gave his all during his performances. By the end of the show, he would often lose up to 5 lbs, and his waist would become one inch thinner. And since it was important that his clothes fit perfectly, so that he could show off his dance moves, every next costume was a bit smaller than the previous one.
2. How his lean shoes worked
Michael Jackson`s shoes that helped him defy the laws of gravity had a V-shaped clasp at the bottom of the heels. With its help, he could hook into a nail attached to the floor and perform his famous 45-degree forward tilt. However, to be able to do that and to keep his whole body straight, an incredible amount of core and leg strength was also needed.
3. Why he only wore one glove
Michael had vitiligo, a skin condition where patches of your skin lose pigment. It started on his hand and he wanted to cover it up. And he thought it would look too ordinary to wear 2 gloves, so he would only wear one.
4. Why almost every jacket had an armband on the right sleeve
Michel Jackson just wanted his clothes to be different from everyone else’s. And having an armband on a sleeve makes your look distinguishable. Michael also liked to make his fans wonder why that armband was there.
5. Why there are 3 № 7s sewn onto his jackets
Michael was the 7th child in his family. Also, he was born in 1958, and if you add 19 plus 58, it equals 77.
6. Why he never polished his shoes
Once, the singer`s managers were concerned about the condition of his shoes and asked his costume designer to polish them. He did it, but it made Michael extremely angry. He explained that the leather was worn off exactly as he needed it to be, and that polishing would make it too slippery for him to perform his dance moves.
7. Why he wore white socks
Michael loved wearing white socks for several reasons. No one else wore white socks with black shoes. Moreover, they would catch the light and attract attention to the movements of his feet when he was dancing.
8. Why he taped his fingers
Hand movements were an important part of Michael Jackson`s dance routines. So he and his costume designers decided to wrap white tape around his fingers in order to attract more light. Michael also decided it would be more unusual to only tape his index, ring, and pinkie fingers. It was also fun for him, because fans would ask why only 3 of his fingers were taped.
When Michael danced, he would unconsciously put his 2 untaped fingers together. And that would also add mysteriousness to his performances, since the fans would think this sign had a secret meaning.
9. What the letters CTE on his jackets stand for
These letters don`t stand for anything. In the 90s, Michael`s costume designers created a few new shirts for him. He liked them, but he wanted to add some letters on the epaulets. He said it didn`t matter which ones, so his costume designers put all of the letters of the alphabet into a hat, and took 3 of them out at random. That`s where the letters “CTE” came from.
Do you think Michael Jackson had great taste in clothes? Is there any costume of his that you like in particular? We`d love to hear your thoughts in the comments!
Preview photo credit Smooth Criminal / Quincy Jones Productions
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