I thought the end of the world had come when I found my late mom\u2019s priceless pottery collection broken all over the floor of my living room. My stepmother didn\u2019t know that her mean moment would turn into her worst fear, though, because I was three steps ahead of her the whole time.<\/p>\n
There are two things in the world that I would protect with all my heart. My name is Bella. The first is that I\u2019m crazy. The second is the collection of pottery my mom left me when she died five years ago.<\/p>\n
Mom made things out of clay. She had saved for three years to buy a kiln and set up her workshop in our garage. Each thing she made had a story behind it. The vase she made in sea green the day after her first cancer treatment. I used to hold that coffee mug every morning when I was six years old. It had a small heart pressed into the handle. The bowl still has her mark in the clay on it.<\/p>\n
After she died, I put everything in a tall glass cabinet in our living room and wrapped everything in bubble wrap and tissue paper. After Mom died, I moved back in with my dad. It wasn\u2019t because I couldn\u2019t afford my own place, but because his house was so quiet that it could swallow you up. We were both important.<\/p>\n
It worked for a while.<\/p>\n
Then Dad met Karen at a meeting for work. She wasn\u2019t like Mom at all. Imagine having your nails done, your hair styled by a professional, and wearing expensive clothes. Two years after Mom died, they got married.<\/p>\n
I tried to make changes. But after a few weeks, I knew Karen and I would never be friends.<\/p>\n
She didn\u2019t like Mom\u2019s art.<\/p>\n
\u201cThere\u2019s so much stuff here,\u201d she said one morning. \u201cYou really should think about minimizing. Clean lines are so much more elegant.\u201d<\/p>\n
I checked out the cabinet. \u201cThey\u2019re not cluttered. They\u2019re my mom\u2019s memories.\u201d<\/p>\n
She smiled very hard, but not all the way to her eyes. \u201cOf course, sweetie. I just mean\u2026 they\u2019re a bit rustic, aren\u2019t they? Like something you\u2019d find at a yard sale.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMy mom made them.\u201d<\/p>\n
Karen said, \u201cI know that,\u201d but she wasn\u2019t really listening. \u201cI\u2019m just saying, maybe you could put some in storage?\u201d<\/p>\n
She would say something about something every few days. \u201cThese really don\u2019t match the aesthetic I\u2019m going for.\u201d Also, \u201cDon\u2019t you think it\u2019s time to let go of the past?\u201d<\/p>\n
Then, Karen sat me down in the kitchen one afternoon while Dad was at work.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019ve been thinking. You have so many of those pottery pieces. Would you mind if I took a few? Some of my friends love handcrafted items. I\u2019d save so much money on gifts.\u201d<\/p>\n
What I just heard shocked me. \u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cJust a few. You wouldn\u2019t even miss them.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI have 23 pottery pieces. And no, you can\u2019t have any of them.\u201d<\/p>\n
Her face changed quickly. The friendly mask broke. \u201cDon\u2019t be selfish, Bella. They\u2019re just sitting there collecting dust.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThey\u2019re all I have left of Mom.\u201d<\/p>\n
Karen\u2019s eyes got smaller. \u201cFine. Keep your precious little pots. But if you won\u2019t share it nicely, you\u2019re going to regret it.\u201d<\/p>\n
Her shoes clicked like gunshots as she walked away.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019ll see,\u201d she said to herself behind her.<\/p>\n
After three weeks, my boss sent me to a three-day meeting in Chicago. I didn\u2019t want to go, but I had to.<\/p>\n
After I was done, I took a late trip home on Saturday night. It was almost 11 p.m. when I got home. The porch light was the only light in the house.<\/p>\n
I quietly opened the door and took my shoes off.<\/p>\n
That\u2019s when I knew something was off with the smell. The coffee from Dad, Mom\u2019s lavender soap that still smelled, and the earthy clay smell from the pots all gave our house a certain smell. The smell of clay was gone now, though.<\/p>\n
It made my stomach hurt.<\/p>\n
I went into the living room. When I turned the corner and saw the cabinet, my brain didn\u2019t believe what my eyes were telling it.<\/p>\n
The glass door was left open. There was nothing on the shelves. And there were pieces of clay all over the floor. There were pieces of pottery in every color Mom had ever used all over the place, looking like awful confetti.<\/p>\n
Saying \u201cNo, no, no\u2026\u201d I got down on my knees and put my hands over the broken things, afraid to touch them.<\/p>\n
The heels were then heard.<\/p>\n
Press. Press. Press.<\/p>\n
Karen walked in through the opening wearing silk pajamas. Her hair looked great. Even though it was almost midnight, she had makeup on her face. She smiled and looked at the floor after looking at me.<\/p>\n
She said, \u201cOh!\u201d in a voice as light and sweet as poisoned honey. \u201cYou\u2019re home early.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat did you do, Karen?\u201d<\/p>\n
She looked at her nails, which were bright red and had just been painted. \u201cI told you I didn\u2019t like how cluttered they looked. I was dusting, and the shelf was unstable. Everything just\u2026 fell.\u201d<\/p>\n
She told a lie. I could tell by the way her mouth curled and the small sparkle of happiness in her eyes.<\/p>\n
\u201cTotal accident!\u201d she said with a bigger smile.<\/p>\n
I felt something snap inside me and said, \u201cYou\u2019re a monster.\u201d<\/p>\n
Her face turned serious right away. \u201cWatch your tone, Bella. Your father won\u2019t appreciate you calling me names. And honestly, they were just pots. You\u2019re being dramatic.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cJust pots? My mother made those. Her hands shaped every single one. They had her fingerprints on the clay.\u201d<\/p>\n
Karen just shrugged. She turned to leave, but stopped. \u201cHad being the key word.\u201d \u201cOh, and you might want to clean that up before your father sees it. He\u2019ll be so upset that you were careless with your storage.\u201d<\/p>\n
I was left alone with my mother\u2019s broken body as she walked away singing something.<\/p>\n
I was on the floor with tears running down my face. I was so angry and sad at the same time that I couldn\u2019t tell which was which.<\/p>\n
But something else was taking shape beneath it all. Something very cold, very sharp, and very clear.<\/p>\n
Because Karen had done something very wrong.<\/p>\n
She thought I was stupid.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou have no idea what you\u2019ve done,\u201d I told the room that was empty.<\/p>\n
What Karen didn\u2019t know is this.<\/p>\n
It\u2019s been about two months since I first became suspect. She kept going around that cabinet like a shark, always finding a reason to dust near it and saying how much space it took up. I\u2019m not naturally anxious, but I\u2019m also not a fool.<\/p>\n
I did two things.<\/p>\n
First, I bought a camera that was hidden. That kind of plant cam that looks like a cute little flower but records everything in HD. I put it on the desk across from the cabinet at a perfect angle and didn\u2019t tell anyone about it. Not you, Dad. Not my best friend. No one.<\/p>\n
Second, I switched out the pottery. This is the part that still makes me feel like a criminal genius.<\/p>\n
That cabinet was full of fake things.<\/p>\n
I had to look at street markets and estate sales for three weekends before I found cheap pottery that looked like it was the right size. Obviously not the same, but the shapes and colors are close. I may have paid $50 all together. Then I took them home, got coffee grounds and dust on them to make them look old, and put them back exactly where Mom\u2019s pieces had been.<\/p>\n
What I really had was locked up in a cabinet in my bedroom closet. It was wrapped in the same bubble wrap and paper towels I used five years before.<\/p>\n
So Karen ruined what she thought was my mother\u2019s legacy when she smashed everything. What she really did was destroy copies.<\/p>\n
I wasn\u2019t going to tell her that, though. Not yet.<\/p>\n
I took out my phone, which was still lying on the floor next to some fake pottery pieces, and opened the camera app. That evening\u2019s time stamp showed that the video was already there.<\/p>\n
Around 7 p.m., I saw Karen walk into the room. I think she looked around to make sure she was the only one there. She then went straight to the closet, opened the door, and began taking the pieces off the shelves. She grabbed the fake sea-green vase and threw it at the floor so hard that I could hear it hit through the speaker on my phone.<\/p>\n
She broke every piece one by one. The plates, bowls, and mugs. She used her heel to stomp on the bigger pieces to break them up even more.<\/p>\n
She then looked straight at the empty cabinet and said, \u201cLet\u2019s see how much you love your precious mommy now, you pathetic little girl!\u201d That was the best part.<\/p>\n
Three times, I watched the movie to make sure it was saved right. After that, I called my dad.<\/p>\n
\u201cHey, honey,\u201d he said, sounding sleepy. \u201cEverything okay?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m home. Can you come downstairs? We need to talk.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIt\u2019s almost midnight\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNow, Dad. Please.\u201d<\/p>\n
He showed up in his bathrobe, and Karen was following behind, looking angry.<\/p>\n
When they saw me on the floor with pots all around me, they stopped moving.<\/p>\n
Dad went pale and asked, \u201cWhat happened?\u201d<\/p>\n
Karen jumped in. \u201cOh, Dave, it\u2019s awful. I came down for a glass of water and heard a crash. The cabinet must\u2019ve been unstable\u2026 everything just fell.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat\u2019s not what happened,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n
I gave my dad my phone. \u201cYou should watch this.\u201d<\/p>\n
Karen\u2019s face jerked. \u201cWatch what?\u201d<\/p>\n
Dad hit \u201cplay.\u201d<\/p>\n
I saw his face change as he saw Karen carefully breaking down each piece. When she stomped on the pieces, his jaw got tight. He jumped at her last word.<\/p>\n
The quiet after it was over was unbearable.<\/p>\n
Karen said, \u201cDave, I can explain\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cExplain what? Explain why you destroyed my late wife\u2019s artwork on purpose and tried to blame Bella?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI didn\u2019t\u2026 it\u2019s not,\u201d I said. \u201cThis is fake. You changed it.\u201d<\/p>\n
I laughed. \u201cYou did this all by yourself.\u201d<\/p>\n
Her face turned funny. \u201cFine. I\u2019m sick of living in a shrine devoted to a dead woman. She\u2019s gone, and you both need to move on.\u201d<\/p>\n
Dad\u2019s hands were shaking. \u201cGet out.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cGet. Out. Pack a bag and leave. Tonight.\u201d<\/p>\n
It\u2019s not possible, Karen screamed.<\/p>\n
\u201cActually,\u201d I told you, \u201cI have a better idea.\u201d<\/p>\n
They both looked at me.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019re going to fix this.\u201d<\/p>\n
Karen\u2019s eyes got smaller. \u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou broke them, so you\u2019re going to glue every single piece back together. Every shard, every fragment.\u201d<\/p>\n
She laughed. \u201cYou\u2019re insane.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMaybe. But you\u2019ve got two choices. Either you spend however long it takes to repair what you destroyed, or I file a police report. I\u2019ve got video evidence of vandalism. Criminal charges. And I\u2019ll make sure everyone in your book club and volunteer committee sees exactly what you did.\u201d<\/p>\n
Her face lost all of its color. \u201cYou wouldn\u2019t.\u201d<\/p>\n
I opened my email, put in the address of the police department, and raised my phone. \u201cTry me.\u201d<\/p>\n
She opened and shut her mouth. She finally hissed, \u201cFine!\u201d<\/p>\n
I put each part in a box and spread them out on the dining room table the next morning. Karen just sat there for weeks. Her nails were broken. She didn\u2019t make it to her hair shop, book club, Pilates class, or spa trip.<\/p>\n
I would walk by with my phone every time she tried to stop. \u201cNeed me to call the police yet?\u201d<\/p>\n
Dad didn\u2019t talk to her much. She begged him to stop, but he told her, \u201cYou did this to yourself.\u201d<\/p>\n
The pieces didn\u2019t fit right because they were just any pottery from anywhere. But she kept trying, even though it made her more angry and tired.<\/p>\n
After twenty-eight days, she called me in.<\/p>\n
She said, \u201cThere,\u201d her hands shaking. \u201cIt\u2019s done. Every piece is\u2026 glued. Are you satisfied?\u201d<\/p>\n
I looked at her work. The \u201cvases\u201d had bumps in them. The lines on the \u201cmugs\u201d were clear. Colors that shouldn\u2019t have been together were stuck together in strange ways.<\/p>\n
\u201cWow! You actually did it.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNow can we move on from this?\u201d<\/p>\n
I smiled. \u201cSure. Just one more thing.\u201d<\/p>\n
The real sea-green vase came out when I opened the wooden cabinet in the corner. The whole and perfect.<\/p>\n
Karen\u2019s face loosened up. \u201cWhat\u2026 how..?\u201d<\/p>\n
I took out one more piece. One more. All 23 originals are still whole.<\/p>\n
\u201cI switched them out two months ago. The pieces you destroyed were fakes from estate sales. Cost me about 50 bucks.\u201d<\/p>\n
She opened her mouth, but nothing came out.<\/p>\n
\u201cSo you spent four weeks gluing together junk that was never going to be useful?\u201d I put Mom\u2019s real pottery on new shelves. \u201cKind of poetic. You tried to destroy what mattered most to me, but all you destroyed was your own time and sanity.\u201d<\/p>\n
Karen\u2019s face turned white, then red, then purple. \u201cYou set me up.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI protected what was mine. You chose to be cruel. I just made sure your cruelty cost you something.\u201d<\/p>\n
She took her bag. \u201cI\u2019m leaving. I\u2019m going to my sister\u2019s, and I\u2019m not coming back until you\u2019re gone.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHave a safe trip!\u201d<\/p>\n
She walked out in a rage. A week later, my dad told me she had asked for a breakup. He had to decide, she told him.<\/p>\n
I was picked by him.<\/p>\n
\u201cGood riddance,\u201d my dad said, putting his arm around my shoulders.<\/p>\n
Karen has been gone for three months now.<\/p>\n
My dad and I put in a new cabinet with a lock and stronger glass. There are real pieces of mom\u2019s pottery inside, and they are all in the right place. When the sun comes out in the afternoon, the glazes will sometimes catch it and glow.<\/p>\n
Karen is still with her sister. Once, she tried to come back and said she wanted to \u201cfix our relationship.\u201d But her dad told her the ship had sailed and sunk.<\/p>\n
The papers for the divorce should be completed next month.<\/p>\n
A friend from Karen\u2019s book club brought a dish over last week. People learned about what took place.<\/p>\n
\u201cI always thought something was off about her,\u201d she stated. \u201cToo perfect, like she was performing for the cameras.\u201d<\/p>\n
I showed her my mom\u2019s stuff. She cried for a long time while standing in front of the closet. \u201cThese are extraordinary. Your mother was an artist.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYeah. She really was.\u201d<\/p>\n
Dad is feeling better. He laughs more. He asked me last Sunday if I would like to go to the community center with him to take a pottery class.<\/p>\n
Yes, I said.<\/p>\n
When I got home that night and saw pieces on the floor, I felt like the end of the world had come. The sadness was real, but the clay wasn\u2019t.<\/p>\n
For those who want to erase someone\u2019s thoughts, the truth is that you can\u2019t. Even if you break the things, the love that\u2019s behind them is stronger than any closet.<\/p>\n
Karen put something together that was never whole in the first place for a month. She worked herself up trying to fix what she had broken, but she didn\u2019t see that the damage she was doing to herself was worse.<\/p>\n
She thought that by ruining my mom\u2019s art, she could erase her. She stopped being a part of our lives and spent her last days in our house putting trash together while the real treasures were locked away.<\/p>\n
The pottery that Mom made is back where it belongs. What about Karen? She\u2019s where she belongs: dead, forgotten, and living the rest of her life knowing she was tricked by a daughter who loved her mother more than she ever thought possible.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
I thought the end of the world had come when I found my late mom\u2019s priceless pottery collection broken all over the floor of my living room. My stepmother didn\u2019t know that her mean moment would turn into her worst fear, though, because I was three steps ahead of her the whole time. There are […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-35176","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/newzdiscover.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/35176","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/newzdiscover.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/newzdiscover.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/newzdiscover.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/newzdiscover.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=35176"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/newzdiscover.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/35176\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":35177,"href":"https:\/\/newzdiscover.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/35176\/revisions\/35177"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/newzdiscover.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=35176"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/newzdiscover.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=35176"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/newzdiscover.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=35176"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}