I could tell something was wrong when Ben walked through the door that Friday evening. He was dragging his feet, and the usual brightness in his eyes was nowhere to be found.
His hands were still wet, probably from wringing out the towels after washing another car, and he avoided eye contact as he dropped onto the couch.
A frustated little boy | Source: Midjourney
“Hey, bud, what’s going on?” I called from the kitchen.
I had planned on making him his favorite grilled chicken and mashed potatoes for dinner. I was going to have his plate ready the moment he walked in.
But looking at him now, I was worried. Ben was only 14 but recently got a taste of making money and wanted to be independent.
Plates of food | Source: Midjourney
“Come on,” I said, wiping my hands. “You can tell me anything!”
For a second, he didn’t answer but stared at the ground. My heart sank when I saw the frustration etched on his face.
It was like he was trying to find the words but didn’t know how to get them out.
A close up of a little boy | Source: Midjourney
“He… he didn’t pay me,” Ben finally muttered.
“What do you mean? Didn’t Mr. Peterson agree to pay you $50 each time you washed his car?” I asked, feeling my own brow furrow.
Ben let out a sigh that sounded far too heavy for a 14-year-old.
“Yeah, but today, after I finished washing the car for the fourth time this month, he said it wasn’t ‘spotless’ and that I wouldn’t get paid. At all! He said I should have done a better job if I wanted my money.”
An upset boy | Source: Midjourney
I felt my fists tighten. Mr. Peterson, that smug neighbor of ours who always had something slick to say. He strutted around in his suits, making sure everyone noticed the shine on his precious black Jeep.
“It’s a beautiful car, isn’t it?” he would ask, leaning out of his car. “Stunning!”
A few months ago, he became interested in Ben, especially after seeing Ben wash my car.
“Whoa! You’ve done a great job on your mom’s car, Ben! What do you say about washing my car every Friday? I’ll pay you, of course!”
A Jeep parked in a driveway | Source: Midjourney
Initially, I thought that it was a compliment, but now I could see it for what it really was:
A way to exploit cheap labor.
“You’ve been washing that car every week this month, haven’t you?” I asked, though I already knew the answer.
Ben nodded, sinking deeper into the couch.
A close up of a woman | Source: Midjourney
“Yeah, I’ve spent about three hours for the past four weeks, just making sure that it was clean. I even used the hand-vacuum under the seats and everything. But he said that I didn’t deserve to be paid.”
A flush of anger bloomed across my chest.
I knew Ben had done a great job. Whenever he did our car, I was always so impressed by him. And anyway, Mr. Peterson’s car gleamed like a showroom model when my son was done with it.
A frustrated boy | Source: Midjourney
This wasn’t about the car being clean. No, sir. It was about Mr. Peterson being a jerk.
And now?
Now, Ben was left feeling like his hard work wasn’t worth anything.
“How much does he owe you?” I asked.
Ben thought for a moment.
A man in a suit | Source: Midjourney
“Four washes, Mom. So, $200.”
I pulled out my wallet and counted $200 in crisp bills. I handed it to him, watching his eyes widen in surprise.
“Here, you earned this, sweetheart.”
“Mom, you don’t have to. It was Mr. Peterson’s job to pay me!” he exclaimed.
I shook my head, cutting him off.
A woman taking money out of her wallet | Source: Midjourney
“I’m not done with Mr. Peterson, honey. He doesn’t get to treat you like this and walk away.”
Ben looked uncertain, his eyes flicking from the money in his hand to me.
“But, Mom!”
“No ‘buts,’ Ben,” I said, putting my wallet away. “Trust me, I’m going to teach Mr. Peterson a lesson about what happens when you take advantage of someone’s hard work. Now, come on, let’s eat. I’m starving!”
Ben smiled and sat down at the table.
A smiling boy | Source: Midjourney
“Thanks, Mom,” he said, smiling.
The next morning, I woke up with a plan. Mr. Peterson had no idea what was coming. I glanced out the window and, sure enough, there he was, standing in his silk pajamas, meticulously polishing his Jeep like a man obsessed.
I smiled and headed outside, casually walking toward him in my yoga clothes.
“Good morning, Mr. Peterson!” I called out cheerfully.
A man standing next to a Jeep in pajamas | Source: Midjourney
He looked up from his car, his usual smug expression already in place.
“Morning, Irene,” he said. “What can I do for you? But make it quick, I have brunch with the family soon.”
I could have rolled my eyes.
“Oh, nothing much. I just wanted to check in about Ben’s payment for washing your car,” I said. “He mentioned you weren’t satisfied with his work yesterday.”
A close up of a woman | Source: Midjourney
Mr. Peterson straightened his back and crossed his arms.
“Yes, that’s right, Irene. The car wasn’t spotless, so I didn’t see the need to pay him. It’s a learning experience, you know? Anyway, he’s a young lad. The world has to humble him.”
The anger from the night before flared up again, but I kept my face neutral, even smiling a little.
“A learning experience, huh?” I said. “Interesting. Ben did tell me that you were a man of your word… and he mentioned that you agreed to pay him $50 per wash, regardless of how spotless it was. And wouldn’t you know it! I’ve got the pictures he took of the car after every wash.”
A man standing next to a Jeep | Source: Midjourney
The smugness in his expression cracked a little.
“Pictures?” Mr. Peterson asked.
“Yes, pictures. He enjoyed sending them to his grandfather after every wash. He is very proud of his work.”
Mr. Peterson grunted.
“And anyway, it seems to me like a verbal agreement was made. And breaking that? Well, that’s a breach of contract, isn’t it? Should I speak to my lawyer about this?”
A frowning woman | Source: Midjourney
The color drained from his face.
“There’s no need for all that!” he exclaimed.
I held up a hand.
“Oh, I think there is. See, Ben worked hard, and you’re trying to cheat him out of what he earned. So, here’s the deal. You pay my son the $200 today, or I’ll make sure everyone in this neighborhood knows how you treat kids who work for you.”
A close up of a man | Source: Midjourney
He just stared at me.
“And if that doesn’t convince you, I’m more than happy to take legal action,” I continued.
I could see the panic settle into his features now. The neighbor with the perfect lawn and the perfect Jeep was suddenly sweating bullets into his silk pajamas.
He opened the car door and fumbled for his wallet, quickly counting out the cash.
A man’s wallet | Source: Midjourney
“Here’s your money,” he muttered, handing over $200 in crumpled bills.
“Great. It’s been good doing business with you,” I said with a smile. “But please, understand that my son will not touch a car of yours again.”
He nodded grimly.
Inside, Ben looked up from the couch when I walked in. He had a bowl of cereal in his hands, and his eyes widened when I handed him the cash.
A boy holding a bowl of cereal | Source: Midjourney
“You actually did it!” he exclaimed.
I grinned, feeling a fierce sense of pride.
“No one messes with my son,” I said. “Especially when they think they can get away with not paying what’s owed. Next time, if someone tries to pull a stunt like that, you’ll know exactly how to handle it.”
“Does this mean that I have to give you the $200 back?” he grinned.
A smiling boy | Source: Midjourney
“No,” I laughed. “But I think you can take me out on a mother-son date for lunch today?”
“Deal, Mom,” he said.
Later, when we were sitting in a cute bistro, Ben leaned across his chair, squinting at the sign from the ice cream parlor across the road.
“Help wanted,” he read. “What do you think, Mom? A weekend job at an ice cream parlor?”
A mom and son duo at a bistro | Source: Midjourney
“Go for it,” I laughed, getting into my burger. “But if the boss is mean, you know who to call.”
My son smiled at me and nodded slowly before picking up a fry.
What would you have done?
A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney
If you enjoyed this story, here’s another one for you |
I Made My Boss Regret Humiliating My Wife’s Appearance in Front of the Whole Office
When Colin and his wife, Alice, end up working at the same company for business tyrant Mr. Taylor, they think that they’ve gotten a sweet deal while they branch out to their passions. But after one mistake at work, Alice is ridiculed in front of everyone, causing Colin to retaliate. As the couple lose their jobs, Colin is left fighting for revenge…
Working as a driver for the owner of a mid-sized company was never the dream, but it paid the bills. If I had to be honest, I would tell you that what I had always wanted to do was own my own construction company, but life often works in funny ways.
A smiling man dressed as a chauffer | Source: Midjourney
The silver lining to being a driver was that I got to go to fancy places and I got to work alongside my wife, Alice. We’d met years ago, long before either of us ended up working at the same place. But when Alice got the job as Mr. Taylor’s personal assistant, she dropped him my resume.
“It’s going to be okay, Colin,” she told me one evening when we were making pasta for dinner.
“He needs a personal driver, and you can do that. Neither of us have to stay there forever, but the pay is good enough for the moment. So, until something better comes along for us, we’ll have to make do.”
A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney
“I know,” I agreed.
Read the full story here.
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
The flight attendant approached me and requested, “Please remain seated after we land; the pilot would like to speak with you personally.”
I thought my big business trip to LA was going to be just another day until a mysterious request from the pilot left me questioning everything I knew about my past. The truth he shared would alter my future in ways I never imagined.
My flight to Los Angeles was supposed to be a smooth one, but what happened during that two-hour journey changed my life forever. But before I tell you about it, let me share why I had to reach LA that day.
So, I work as an architect at a well-known construction firm, and this is my dream job. Let me tell you, it wasn’t good luck that brought me here. It was my hard work and all those sleepless nights I spent in college upgrading my skills and learning new concepts.
Recently, my boss gave me an opportunity to present a big project to some of our top investors in Los Angeles.
It was a HUGE thing because it could lead to a long-awaited promotion, so I happily accepted the opportunity.
Honestly, I felt so grateful for it because it was also a chance to make my mom, Melissa, proud. She’s my best friend, and that’s mainly because she has raised me as a single parent. She told me my father passed away before I was born, but she never stopped me from chasing my dreams. Mom’s always been there to support me, and I love her for that.
So, when I told her about the meeting in LA, she hugged me and said, “Go get ’em, sweetie! I’ll be praying for you.”
The time flew by at the airport, and soon I found myself comfortably seated on the plane, ready to take off. The flight attendants were all so welcoming, and I lucked out with an empty seat next to me!
As the plane began to ascend, I couldn’t help but feel excited. I was well-prepared for my presentation, hoping the investors would like it.
A few minutes into the flight, a friendly-looking flight attendant named Bethany approached me with a tray of drinks.
“Can I get you something to sip on?” she asked with a smile.
“Just orange juice, please,” I replied, raising my hand to accept the glass. As I did, Bethany glanced down at the birthmark on my wrist.
“I’m sorry, could I have your passport, please?” she asked suddenly.
Well, that’s strange, I thought.
Confused but not wanting to argue, I handed it over. Bethany looked it over carefully before returning it with a nod.
“Just a standard protocol check. Thank you!”
Sounds cool.
A short while later, Bethany returned to my seat.
“Excuse me, will you be in a rush after we land?” she asked.
“Yeah, I’ve got a connecting flight to catch and I’m already running late,” I explained as I subconsciously clasped my hands together.
“Well, the pilot wants to speak with you after we land.”
“The pilot?” I asked. “Why? Can’t he just talk to me now?”
“I’m afraid not,” Bethany replied in a serious tone. “He wants to talk to you in person. I know you’re in a hurry, but trust me, you’ll want to hear this. You’ll regret it if you don’t.”
I sat there, utterly perplexed.
What on earth could the pilot possibly need to tell me? And why did it have to wait until after we landed? My big meeting was hanging in the balance, and I didn’t want to risk missing my connection. But Bethany’s insistence made me feel like this was something important.
As the plane touched down and the other passengers began filing out, I steeled myself and waited patiently for the pilot to approach.
When the cabin was finally empty, a tall man with graying hair entered, his eyes immediately locking onto mine.
At that point, I literally dropped my bag and jacket. My jaw just about hit the floor because I could’ve sworn I had seen this man before.
I instantly recognized him from old photos my mom had shown me. This was Steve, her childhood friend.
But the man didn’t look happy to see me.
In fact, tears were streaming down his face as he threw his arms around me in a tight embrace. I stood there, completely bewildered, as he sobbed into my shoulder.
“What’s going on?” I asked in a shaky voice. “What happened?”
He pulled away, gazing at me with red-rimmed eyes. Then, he gently took my hand and revealed a birthmark on his wrist. It was an exact match to the one on mine.
“Courtney,” he choked out, “I’m your father.”
“Wait, what?” I looked at him with eyes wide open. “My father? But Mom said…”
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