Charity Starts at Home

I had no idea how I even got home.

I opened the door to find Roddy still on the couch. Staring at my ashen complexion, he sneered, “I told you not to go. You’re only embarrassing yourself.”

The remark was the straw that broke the camel’s back.

I took large strides over and stood before him.

“Roddy.” My voice was terrifyingly still. “Your good neighbor said that they won’t return the money you so willingly gave. She dares you to ask for the money back yourself.”

Roddy fell silent, guilt written all over his face.

“My dad’s surgery can’t wait.” I added. “Get the money now. I don’t care how you do it. Just beg, borrow, or steal. I expect the money today.”

Snapping his head up, Roddy didn’t hide his disdain and annoyance.

“Give it a rest, Laurel!” He yelled at me, his finger up my nose. “Must you make us a laughingstock of the neighborhood over some money?

“Yes, I lent the money to Lorelei, but I was doing a good deed! It’s an act of charity! Look at yourself! You look like some heartless debt collector, shaking down a poor widow for change.

“It’s sad that your father’s suck, but you can’t make me the bad guy because of your family drama. I’ve been doing my best for our neighbors for three years. What does that make me if I ask for the money now? How am I supposed to show my face in the community?”

His face was red with anger.

“Lorelei is on her own, and Natasha lost her father at a young age. What’s wrong with helping them? You’re my wife. It’s bad enough that you’re not supporting me, but you’re trying to make me the bad guy? Where is your conscience, Laurel?”

He looked justified.

Anyone would think that I was some wicked person.

For three years, he never gave me a penny, playing a philanthropist to the neighbors instead. It was funny how generous he was with my savings.

Roddy painted me, his wife, as petty and malicious just because I needed the money.

Staring at his face, warped by self-righteous anger, I was struck by how absurd everything was.

“Roddy, you’re right. We should always be kind to others. Thanks for the valuable lesson,” I said curtly.

Taken aback, Roddy wasn’t expecting me to see things his way.

Turning on my heel, I went to the master bedroom and moved my duvet to the guest suite.

With a blank face, I opened my social media app and scrolled for local student aid information.

It didn’t take long before I locked onto a plea from a college boy desperate for tuition money.

The boy in the photo wore washed-out clothes. The post said his father had left, leaving behind a sick mother and a young baby sister. He hoped some kind soul would help him stay in school.

With a sick mother, a deadbeat father, and a broken sibling, he was the perfect candidate for my charity case.

I sent him a message. “How much do you need for your tuition and living expenses? I’ll help you.”

The response came back right away.

Jumping straight into it, I asked for his bank details and transferred every last of Roddy’s salary that came five minutes ago.

Once that was done, I put my phone on silent and tossed it aside.

Thanks to Roddy, I decided I would start opening my heart to helping people, too.