My Neighbor Refused to Pay Me ($250) for Cleaning Her House as We Agreed — I Taught Her a Fair Lesson
It’s said that neighbors can become allies or enemies, but I never thought mine would happen so quickly.
What had begun as a straightforward favor developed into a sour conflict and a plot twist that left us both stunned.
I never thought I’d be standing in my kitchen, cleaning the same countertop for the third time, wondering how I’d become this version of myself, six years after my husband, Silas, left our life.
I’m Prudence, a 48-year-old mother of two who works remotely for a contact center and is currently struggling to make ends meet. Not everything in life went as planned.
I remember talking to Silas about our dreams. The kind of life we intended to co-create. But those dreams broke somewhere along the way, and I was left to pick up the pieces by myself.
One evening, he left, telling me he needed “space to find himself,” leaving me in charge of our eight-year-old son Damien and our baby daughter Connie, who was only a few months old. Since he never returned, I assume he discovered more than just space.
“Mom, can I have some cereal?” Connie jolted me out of my reverie with her quiet words. From the kitchen table, her innocent and big brown eyes gazed up at me.
Yes, honey. Give me a moment, please.” I smiled artificially and reached for the cereal box on the highest shelf.
Now fourteen, Damien walked into the kitchen with his regular headphones in place. He seldom took his eyes off his phone. He muttered, “I’m going out to meet up with Jake, okay?”
“Avoid staying out late. He hurried out the door without waiting for my response, so I screamed after him, “And remember, homework first when you get back.”
In the life I’d been piecing together since Silas departed, it was simply another day. Trying to maintain a roof over our heads and raise two children alone wasn’t an easy task.
While working in the call center was helpful, it wasn’t exactly my ideal position. But at these times, it was just a job, and that was all that mattered.
At that point, my new neighbor Emery, who is in her early 30s, knocked on my door. When I opened it, I saw her with her eyes red around the edges, as if she hadn’t slept in days.
“Hey, Prudence, can I ask you for a huge favor?” With a small crack in her voice, she said.
I gave her a nod and moved aside to let her in. Yes, Emery. What is happening?”
With a groan, she sank into the couch as if she were going to pass out. “Last night, I went to this crazy party, and then I had to go out of town for work. I don’t have time to clean up this mess of a place. Could you maybe lend me a hand? Of sure, I’ll reimburse you.”
I paused and looked at the time. Even though my shift wasn’t until a few hours from now, the prospect of making some additional money was alluring. It’s a blessing that we have it.
“How much are we talking about?” I questioned while crossing my arms over my chest.
She said, “Two hundred and fifty dollars,” without pausing. “Prudence, I just truly need your help. If it weren’t an emergency, I wouldn’t inquire.”
I said, “Alright,” after a brief pause. “I’ll do it.”
“I really appreciate it! You’ve saved my life!” After giving me a brief embrace, Emery hurried off, leaving me to ponder what I had just agreed to.
Emery’s home was, to put it politely, a complete mess. There were empty bottles, half-eaten meal plates, and rubbish all over the place, giving the impression that a tornado had just gone through it.
With my hands on my hips, I stood in the center of her living room, unsure of where to start.
Two times a day. I spent two full days cleaning, sweeping, and removing trash from that residence. My hands were raw and my back hurt by the time I finished. Still, I couldn’t help but think of the $250 Emery had promised. We could really use that money.
I marched over to Emery’s apartment, prepared to pick her up when she eventually returned.
“Emery, the task is completed. Your home is immaculate,” I remarked, attempting to hide my weariness from the words. “So, about the payment…”
She gave me a blink as if I were speaking a foreign language. “Receipt? What payment is that?”
My heart began to pound a little as I scowled. “The $250 you said you would give me to clean your place. Recall?”
Emery’s look changed to one of perplexity and finally irritation. “I never promised to pay you anything, Prudence. What you’re talking about is beyond me.”
I was momentarily stunned and just stood there. “You—what? You promised to pay me! We made a deal.”
“No, we didn’t,” she announced angrily. “Look, I’m late for work, and I really don’t have time for this.” She shoved by me and went to get in her car.
“Emery, this isn’t right!” I screamed out to her, but she didn’t even look back as she backed out of the driveway.
I stood there, furious, watching Emery’s car drive off down the street. How on earth could she have left like that?
After two days of excruciating labor, she defied reason by acting as though our agreement never was reached. My temper was starting to flare up, but I knew better than to react rashly.
I returned home, shut the door, and stood in the living room attempting to gather my thoughts. Damien was still out with his pals, while Connie was on the floor playing with her toys. While I didn’t want to involve my children in this situation, I also couldn’t let Emery get away with it.
I whispered to myself, “Okay, Prudence, you’ve got to be smart about this.” As I peered out Emery’s house window, a thought began to take shape. It was dangerous, but at that moment, I didn’t give a damn. I could also get my hands muddy in the mud if she wanted to play dirty.
I was at the neighborhood trash dump twenty minutes later, putting on some old gloves I had in my van. Though I wasn’t proud of what I was going to do, drastic measures were necessary in these trying circumstances.
I packed as many trash bags into my trunk as I could, almost gaging from the stink. Still, I clenched my jaw and persisted.
Throughout the trip back, I couldn’t help but think back on our conversation—her condescending demeanor, her inability to accept the promises she had made. I felt more and more justified the more I considered it.
She wasn’t even civil enough to acknowledge the effort I’d made to clean her dirty house. She was going to find out just how filthy things could get, though.
The street was empty when I drew up in front of Emery’s house. I opened the trunk and began carrying the trash bags to the front door, but no one was there to witness it. As I worked swiftly, adrenaline was pumping through me and my heart was pounding in my chest.
At that moment, I came to know that Emery had neglected to return her house key to me. She didn’t even give it a second thought because she was leaving in such a rush.
I paused for a brief while. But then I remembered the expression on her face when she informed me that there was no agreement, and the way she wrote me off as insignificant. I would not allow her to get away with it.
I opened the door and took a step inside. The house remained immaculate, exactly as I had left it, but that was going to change. I ripped open the trash bags one by one, spilling the contents all over her counters, floors, and even her bed. Dirty diapers, rotten food, and outdated newspapers were all mingled together in one ugly pile.
I whispered to myself, “This is what you get, Emery,” while I emptied the last bag. “You wanted to play games, well, game on.”
Making sure to lock the door behind me, I tucked the key beneath her welcome mat before leaving. Back at my car, I experienced an odd mix of remorse and delight. However, I dismissed it. Emery was the one who caused this.
That night, as I was tucking Connie into bed, there was a loud knocking at my front door. Before I ever cracked it open, I knew who it was.
“Courtesy! How in the heck did you damage my home? Emery cried out, fury radiating from her features.
Playing it calm, I crossed my arms and leaned against the doorframe. “Emery, I have no idea what you’re talking about. How did I manage to get inside your home? Remember that we never had an agreement? Thus, I never possessed your home’s keys.”
Her expression contorted with anger as she looked at me for a moment without saying anything. “You are lying! I’m going to dial the cops! This will cost you money!”
I shrugged without averting my gaze. “Make that call to them. However, how are you going to describe how I entered? You claim that I never had the key, therefore you can’t.”
Emery parted her lips to protest, but nothing came out. She seemed ready to burst, but all she could do was a backflip and a furious retreat, whispering something to herself.
My heart continued to race as I watched her go, but this time it wasn’t from rage. A sense of justice and restored equilibrium prevailed.
I wasn’t concerned, even though I wasn’t sure if she would call the police. That day, Emery had picked up a vital lesson: never mess with Prudence.
I exhaled deeply as I shut the door and felt a burden go from my shoulders. Even though I knew it was wrong, at that particular moment it seemed like the only way to put things right.
You have to put yourself first sometimes, even if it means getting your hands filthy. Regarding Emery, what is his situation? I sensed that she wouldn’t be requesting favors from me for some time.
How well do you think I handled things?