My Divorced Neighbor Told Me, ‘I’m Going to Take Your Husband, so You’d Better Prepare for Divorce’ – I Decided to Teach Her a Lesson in a Way Only Another Woman Could
Vanessa’s yard was crowded with neighbors holding paper plates and plastic cups.
Conversations slowed as I came through the gate. Irvin saw me first and had to hide a smile.
Vanessa didn’t bother hiding anything.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
“I brought the hostess a gift.” I set the box on the patio table in front of her. “Go ahead. Open it.”
Vanessa didn’t bother hiding anything.
Half the neighborhood was watching by then.
Vanessa lifted the lid.
Inside was a hammer, a full screwdriver set, three kinds of batteries, a pack of lightbulbs, a jar opener, a basic home-repair guide, and a printed list of four local handymen.
Her smile disappeared.
“Now you don’t need my husband anymore,” I said.
I thought that would teach her a lesson. I never imagined it would spark a war.
“Go ahead. Open it.”
A nervous laugh moved through the yard.
Vanessa forced one of her own.
“Oh my gosh, Claire. This is so dramatic. I was joking.”
“No, you weren’t. You told me to prepare for divorce because you were going to take him.”
That killed the laughter.
She turned toward Irvin as if she expected him to rescue her from the moment she’d created. She was so confident that for a moment I wondered if my “gift” was about to backfire.
That killed the laughter.
He walked over and put his arm around me instead.
“Claire’s right,” he said. “Don’t call me for things around your house anymore. If something breaks, use one of those numbers.”
Vanessa’s face went red.
I didn’t make a speech. I took Irvin’s hand, and we left together.
I was foolish enough to think it was over. In truth, all I’d done was drop a match in a jug of gas.
“Don’t call me for things around your house anymore.”
By the time we reached our porch, two couples were already walking home.
A few minutes later, another neighbor left carrying a folding chair.
Vanessa’s barbecue hadn’t ended, but the mood had.
For about 40 minutes, I felt wonderful.
Then I started wondering what Vanessa would do after losing in front of half the neighborhood.
For about 40 minutes, I felt wonderful.
The answer began with petty things.
A complaint about Irvin running the lawn mower at noon. An anonymous note about our trash cans being visible from the street. Irritating, but harmless.
Then the real threat arrived.
