This ends now. You’re going to pay back every cent you took from Kristen’s fund. And if you can’t… well, I think we need to reevaluate this whole situation.”
For the first time since I’d known her, Tracy looked genuinely scared.
It was like watching a deer in the headlights (if the deer had really bad dental work and a speech impediment!)
In the weeks that followed, Tracy became a recluse that would make even the most solitary monk seem like a party animal.
The neighborhood buzzed with gossip about her “dental disaster,” and she couldn’t show her face without someone asking about her “million-dollar thmile.”
As for me? Well, Dad made good on his promise. He’s been working overtime to rebuild my college fund, and Tracy’s been suspiciously quiet about her spending habits.
I guess it’s hard to argue when you sound like you’re trying to whistle through a mouthful of marbles.
The other day, I caught her staring longingly at a magazine ad for dental implants.
I couldn’t resist the opportunity for a little payback.
“Hey, Tracy,” I called out, flashing her my perfectly imperfect “alligator-tooth” smile. “Need thome invethment advithe?”
She scowled and stomped off, but I swear I saw Dad trying to hide a smirk.
So yeah, my stepmom stole $5,000 from my college fund for a set of fake teeth that made her sound like she was auditioning for the role of the Big Bad Wolf with a speech impediment. But in the end?
Karma gave her something to really chew on…
And me? I learned that sometimes, the most valuable things in life aren’t the ones you can buy. They’re the lessons you learn along the way, and the satisfaction of watching justice being served, one broken veneer at a time.
Plus, I now have enough material to write a bestselling memoir: From Fangs to Fortune: How My Stepmom’s Dental Disaster Saved My College Fund.” How is it?
And who knows?
Maybe I’ll even dedicate it to Tracy. After all, without her, I wouldn’t have this toothsome tale to tell.
