The $10 That Broke Us Chapter 1

After I spent $600 of my bonus on a new washing machine for my mom, all she did was complain that it didn't work.

"You're quite the schemer, aren't you? You didn't even give your sister the ten dollars you got for the old machine. Just pocketed it yourself."

My face flushed. I thought she was joking, so I gave an awkward laugh. "Why would you think that?"

She shot me a glare and changed the subject. "This piece of junk. I wash a set of sheets and they still come out sopping wet."

I took a look and realized she was using the 15-minute quick wash cycle. I started to switch it to the bulky items setting, explaining which cycle to use for which type of laundry.

But she shoved my hand away and stubbornly twisted the dial back to quick wash.

"Your sister said the quick wash saves water and is gentler on the clothes."

Her voice rose with anger, and she slammed a laundry basket down. "You have to calculate every little thing. It's not your water bill, so of course, you don't care. Not like your sister. She thinks about us in everything she does."

A chill went through me. I called the scrap dealer, paid him twenty bucks to bring the old washing machine back, and then arranged to have the new one moved to my own apartment.

* * *

I got a $600 bonus from a big project at work, and my first thought was the washing machine at home. It was over a decade old, one of those ancient models where you had to move the wet clothes to a separate drum for the spin cycle. When my mom washed anything heavy, the water-logged fabric was a struggle for her to lift, and I was always worried she’d throw out her back.

I took a half-day off for the delivery. Watching the scrap dealer haul the old machine away, I felt a warm glow, imagining how surprised and happy Mom would be when she got home.

She returned from her dance fitness class and froze in the doorway. Still holding the red silk fan she used for her routines, she just stood there, staring at the new machine in the bathroom.

"Where's the old one?" she asked.

"Sold it to the scrap guy," I said, polishing the control panel of the new machine. "Only got ten bucks for it."

Her expression soured instantly. The silk fan slapped against the sofa.

"Who told you to do that?" Her voice was piercing. "That machine still worked!"

I assumed it was just her usual frugality. "Mom, this new one is energy-efficient and quiet, and it can—"

"Waste of money!" she snapped, cutting me off before storming into the kitchen. The faucet roared to life as she began furiously scrubbing a dishrag that didn't even need washing, as if venting her frustration.

She didn't speak to me for the rest of the night, not even touching the pastries I'd bought specially for her.

Two days later, my phone rang at work. The second I answered, I heard her yelling. "What kind of junk did you buy? It doesn't clean anything!"

When I rushed over, she was yanking a bedsheet out of the drum. Clumps of undissolved laundry powder clung to the damp fabric, and a puddle of water was forming on the floor. I knelt to see what the problem was.

"You're quite the schemer, aren't you?" she said suddenly.

My fingers froze. I looked up at her.

She was scrubbing the machine's exterior with a cloth, not even looking at me. "You didn't even give your sister the ten dollars you got for the old machine. Just pocketed it yourself."

I thought I'd misheard. "What?"

"Ten dollars." She finally straightened up, flinging the cloth into a basin. "You can't even let go of such a small amount of money."

My face burned with humiliation. I forced a smile. "Mom, why would you think that..."

She shot me a look and went back to wrestling with the duvet cover in the drum. "This piece of junk. I wash a set of sheets and they still come out sopping wet."

That's when I noticed she was still using the 15-minute quick wash. No wonder the powder hadn't even dissolved. I started to switch it to the bulky items setting, explaining which cycle to use for which laundry.

But she shoved my hand away and stubbornly twisted the dial back to quick wash.

"Your sister said the quick wash saves water and is gentler on the clothes."

She grew more agitated, slamming a laundry basket down. "You have to calculate every little thing. It's not your water bill, so of course, you don't care. Not like your sister. She thinks about us in everything she does."