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309words
“Helen,are you insane?What are you doing?”
I smoothed my unwrinkled clothes,stepping past.Outside,a crowd had gathered.
“I’m no homewrecker.I haven’t ruined anyone’s family.I’ll use every right I have to seek justice!”
Margaret stormed up,fuming and rolling up her sleeves to hit me.
“You vixen,slandering me after your own mess?I’ll end you!”
Prepared this time,I dodged her lumbering swing and kicked her backside.
With a yelp,she crashed into the mud,flailing but unable to stand.
The crowd roared with laughter.
I dusted my hands,and said defiantly.“Go home and get your money ready to compensate me for my losses!”
Leaving,I noticed a few young women at the crowd’s edge,with hesitant,meaningful expressions.
They avoided my gaze,sneaking away.
I was memorizing their faces,suspecting they were victims too.
The stunt divided the factory rumors.Some believed my innocence;others thought I was dodging blame since Margaret lacked proof.
I didn’t care.
The next day,the police called.Margaret denied the damages I had claimed,accusing me of fraud and requesting official documentation of the vase.
In the‘80s,credible appraisers were rare,often far away,and unreachable without personal contacts.
She was relying on my failure to provide one.
I hung up,hesitated before calling my husband.
It was evening in his time zone.
Hearing about our ordeal,he was livid,especially about Lily’s injuries.He vowed to finish his work overseas and return soon,assuring me he’d handle the appraisal.
His call calmed me, and eased days of pent-up grievance.
But then the manager’s call came to the workshop,demanding that I report to his office immediately.
Still in my work clothes,I went.
Inside,it wasn’t the manager but a white-haired man sitting in his chair,consoling Margaret.
“Don’t worry,Daddy’s got you.”
His identity was obvious—Margaret’s father.
I smirked,and sat on the couch uninvited.
“Who said you could sit, are you vixen?”Margaret snapped.
