My Neighbor Covered My Car in Concrete for ‘Blocking Her Lake View’ – Then My 8-Year-Old Daughter Wiped the Smile off Her Face
“We really don’t,” I replied, pulling a stack of envelopes out of the mailbox. “It’s parked on my property.”
I already knew who it was.
“It’s hideous,” Valerie replied.
My face turned red.
“Does my car really bother you that much?”
My neighbor stepped closer, close enough that I could smell her perfume, then looked me up and down.
“Let me be clear with you, sweetheart. Maybe people like you don’t belong in a neighborhood like this. Normal, wealthy people live here. Not single moms in rusted-out Chevrolets.”
Then looked me up and down.
I was livid!
“My daughter and I live here now,” I said. “You’ll have to get used to the view.”
“We’ll see about that.”
She walked off, her heels clicking, and I stood there staring at a water bill until my hands stopped shaking.
I didn’t know Olivia had heard until dinner.
***
My daughter was pushing peas around her plate when she looked up and asked, very calmly, “Mom, why does that lady hate us?”
“We’ll see about that.”
“She doesn’t hate us, sweetheart.”
“She said we don’t belong.”
I set my fork down. She was so young, and she’d already learned to read between grown-up lines.
“Some people think a nice view is more important than being nice,” I told her. “That’s their problem, not ours.”
“But you looked sad.”
“I wasn’t sad. I was thinking.”
“She said we don’t belong.”
Olivia chewed slowly. “About what?”
“About how proud Grandpa would be that we live in his house.”
That got a small smile out of her, and I thought that was the end of it.
It wasn’t.
***
The following afternoon, Harold came up the walk with a plate of cookies wrapped in cling film and the world’s most conspicuously casual expression.
I thought that was the end of it.
“A small welcome to the neighborhood gift,” he said, holding them out. “My late wife’s recipe. She’d want the new neighbors to have them.”
“You didn’t have to.”
“I know. Can I sit for a minute?”
I waved him toward the porch steps. Olivia was inside coloring, but I noticed her ear tilt toward the screen door the second Harold sat down.
“Can I sit for a minute?”
