My mom, Ruby, is a skilled wallpaper installer who raised me alone after my dad passed away. When a wealthy couple hired her to work on their mansion, she poured two weeks of hard labor into the job, excited for the paycheck that would help us celebrate my birthday. But on the final day, she came home in tears — the homeowners claimed they didn’t like the pattern and refused to pay, even threatening to call the police if she didn’t leave.
Seeing her so heartbroken lit a fire in me. I remembered they’d be out of town that weekend and called a couple of friends. We brought over rolls of leftover wallpaper — the loudest, most mismatched patterns we could find — and spent the night covering her careful work with garish colors and cartoons. Before leaving, I placed a note: “Enjoy your new wallpaper — free of cost!”
When the Bensons returned, their outrage echoed through the neighborhood. But with no forced entry and nothing stolen, the police couldn’t act. Neighbors soon learned how they had treated my mom, and word spread fast. Her reputation soared, bringing in more offers for work than ever, while the Bensons found themselves socially shunned.
Weeks later, Mom told me she ran into Mrs. Benson at the supermarket and simply said, “I hope you’re enjoying your new wallpaper.” We both laughed, knowing that sometimes karma comes in patterns — and this one suited them perfectly.