“Returning Home from the Market, I Found a Matchmaker in My Garden. I Decided to Teach Her a Lesson”

I had just returned from the local farmer’s market, my arms laden with fresh produce and homemade jams. The sun was setting, casting a golden hue over my suburban neighborhood. As I approached my house, I noticed something unusual in my garden. There, among my meticulously tended roses and tulips, stood a woman I recognized but had never expected to see in such a setting.

It was Mrs. Thompson, the matchmaker who had introduced my son to his now-wife, Emily. I had met her only once before, at the wedding, and she had struck me as a calm and composed individual. But what was she doing in my garden?

I dropped my bags on the porch and walked over to her. “Mrs. Thompson?” I called out, trying to keep my voice steady.

She turned around, a serene smile on her face. “Oh, hello there! I was just admiring your beautiful garden.”

I forced a smile. “Thank you, but what brings you here?”

She hesitated for a moment before replying, “I was in the neighborhood and thought I’d stop by to see how you were doing.”

Something about her demeanor seemed off. Why would she be in my neighborhood without any prior notice? And why was she in my garden without permission? My instincts told me something wasn’t right.

“Well, it’s getting late,” I said, trying to hint that it was time for her to leave. “I should get these groceries inside.”

She nodded but didn’t move. Instead, she continued to admire the flowers, almost as if she were waiting for something.

As I turned to head back to the house, I heard her say, “You know, your son and Emily make such a lovely couple. It’s all thanks to me.”

I stopped in my tracks. There was something unsettling about the way she said it. I decided to confront her directly. “Mrs. Thompson, why are you really here?”

Her serene smile faded, replaced by a look of determination. “I have a proposition for you,” she said, stepping closer.

I felt a chill run down my spine. “What kind of proposition?”

She glanced around to make sure no one else was listening. “I want you to help me with something. Something that will benefit both of us.”

I crossed my arms, wary of her intentions. “And what exactly is that?”

She leaned in closer and whispered, “I need you to convince your son to invest in a business venture I’m starting. It’s a guaranteed success, but I need financial backing.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. This woman, who had seemed so calm and composed at the wedding, was now trying to manipulate me into involving my son in some shady business deal.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Thompson,” I said firmly. “But I’m not interested in getting involved in any business ventures.”

Her expression darkened. “You don’t understand,” she said through gritted teeth. “This is an opportunity of a lifetime.”

I shook my head. “No, thank you.”

She took a step back, her face contorted with anger. “You’ll regret this,” she hissed before turning on her heel and storming out of my garden.

I watched her go, feeling a mix of relief and unease. What had just happened? And what kind of person had we let into our lives through Emily?

Over the next few weeks, strange things began to happen. My garden, once a source of pride and joy, started to wither despite my best efforts. My son mentioned receiving odd phone calls from unknown numbers, and Emily seemed increasingly stressed.

One evening, as I was preparing dinner, there was a knock on the door. I opened it to find two police officers standing on my porch.

“Ma’am,” one of them said gravely, “we need to talk to you about Mrs. Thompson.”

It turned out that Mrs. Thompson was involved in several fraudulent schemes and had been using her position as a matchmaker to gain access to wealthy families. She had been under investigation for months.

As the officers explained the situation, I felt a sinking feeling in my stomach. We had narrowly avoided becoming her next victims, but the damage she had caused was already done.

My once-beautiful garden was now a constant reminder of the encounter with Mrs. Thompson and the lesson I had learned the hard way: not everyone who seems calm and composed can be trusted.