“Harriet, you dont have to leech off mum and dad,” James called out, loud enough for the whole kitchen to hear, “Youre an adult now, youve got your own head on your shoulders, pull your own weight. No more riding on old peoples coattails.”
Riding on old peoples coattails that was the last straw.
***
She was rummaging through the fridge, hunting for milk. Right, wheres the milk aha, there it is, Harriet muttered, reaching for the white carton with the red lettering. Perfect, well make pancakes
Before she could grab it, the fridge door slammed shut, almost pinching her hand. She jerked back just in time. No milk. She turned to the person whod practically shoved her.
Mum, whats that about? she asked, puzzled. I just wanted the milk for pancakes then we could all have a bite.
Molly, who was nearby wiping the counter, shook her head. Were not having pancakes.
Fine, Ill just eat something else. Its almost dinner time, Harriet replied, sighing.
Susan pushed her away from the fridge, pretending to sweep the floor. You can eat at home, love, youre here to have a chat, not to raid the pantry, she said, sweeping the freshly mopped tiles. Dont expect us to feed you, youre not a child any more.
Harriet pretended the flour shed already taken didnt bother her. The whole thing felt like a slap in the face. Even though it was her parents house, she never felt truly welcome there.
Shed just turned twentytwo, fresh with a university degree, living in a shared flat because her trainee job barely covered rent. She was about to hop onto a better, betterpaying role, hoping to move into a proper flat of her own. Her mothers coldness only added to the sting.
Back at the family home, where shed always thought shed be welcome, she was pointed at the fridge door as if it were a forbidden gate.
Mum, Im not, she began, trying to explain, but no one listened.
Harriet, you cant conjure food out of thin air. You work, you know that, Susan snapped. A little milk, a slice of sausage, a bit of cheesethose add up.
I was just trying to make something for everyone
Were not starving, Susan said.
Before any real conversation could happen, James barged in with his two kids in tow, already poking around the toy shelf.
Harriet, you dont have to leech off mum and dad, James repeated, louder this time. Youre an adult, pull your own weight. No more riding on old peoples coattails.
Harriet glanced at the kids, who had already opened a packet of biscuits on the kitchen table and were reaching for sweets from a bowl that never seemed empty. And she, the one whod been cooking for everyone, couldnt even get a splash of milk for pancakes?
Why cant I? she asked. James gets it, his kids get it
Molly rolled her eyes. Theyre kids, Harriet. You want them to pay for their own meals? To charge grandchildren?
Susan smirked. James chuckled.
Come on, youll think of something, he said. Kids are one thing, you need to learn a bit of independence.
He didnt seem embarrassed about grabbing a pack of biscuits from his kids and scarfing them down.
What about you? Harriet shot back.
Im more independent than you, lookI’m lugging two kids around. And you? No kid, no cat. How are you supposed to feed yourself?
Maybe I should be here more often, James muttered.
Youre an adult now, James went on, his voice getting a bit patronising. Time to start feeding your own parents, or at least have your own kids, instead of hauling milk around.
Harriet laughed bitterly. Right, as if youre any better.
Bravo! Youre finally getting the point! James said, feigning admiration.
She watched him crush the biscuit packet so fast it might as well have been light speed.
Harriet realised shed never be truly welcome in that house again. She was just a guest now, expected to be as lowkey as possible.
Alright, she said. I think Ill be going.
Dont take it personally, love, James said, waving her off. Your parents are just being firm about independence. Its a bit late, but better late than never.
She didnt even say goodbye. She walked out, no bows, no drama. James went on babbling about adulthood, responsibility, and not sticking your nose in other peoples fridges. Harriet tuned him out completely.
Weeks passed and she didnt visit her parents. Shed quit her deadend jobno raises, no decent payand landed a new gig with a solid team and a salary that finally let her rent a proper flat on her own. She was waiting for her first paycheck, too busy to think about popping over to mum and dad, especially now that a visit meant paying for a train ticket she couldnt afford.
One afternoon after work, her new supervisor, Claire, a slightly older woman whod been mentoring her, stopped by.
Harriet, dont just sit there, get used to the workload, youve got plenty to do, Claire said. You look knackered. Fancy a coffee? Theres a lovely little place just around the corner.
I still have some things to finish up
Finish them later, Claire practically hoisted Harriet from her chair. A breath of fresh air wont hurt your brain.
Harriet, a bit weary but generally happy, agreed. At the café Claire insisted on treating her.
Oh, Claire, thanks, but Ill pay, Harriet protested.
Nonsense! Im not short of cash, and youre still finding your feet. Its on me, Claire winked. Dont worry about the money, love.
Those simple, unpretentious words hit Harriet in a way she hadnt expected. It felt good to be looked after, not seen as a burden.
Thanks, she said, smiling.
Work settled, the paychecks kept coming, and finally Harriet could afford her own flat. Shed never been so lucky. After sorting out all the moving bits, she decided it was time to drop by her parents with a proper basket of goodiesfruit, veg, sweets, cheese, hamall the stuff they usually bought themselves. She didnt want to show up emptyhanded after the cold shoulder shed gotten.
Hi, Mum! she called as she stepped in. Wheres Dad?
Hes out taking the rubbish out and got stuck, Susan replied, relieved. We were wondering if youd forgotten about us.
Harriet set the basket on the table. Thought Id chip in a bit for lunch, she said, pulling out the cheese. Snacks?
Sure, thatll do, Susan said.
Dad came back with the bins, chatted with the neighbour for a halfhour, and then headed home again. After a few sandwiches, Harriet felt a craving for tea.
I could do with a cuppa, she said, heading to the kitchen.
Tea? Peter frowned a little. Did you bring any?
No
Then have a bite, love. You didnt bring tea anyway.
That was the last straw. Dad, I brought loads of other stuff! she protested, holding up the packets.
Eat what youve got, love. The teas on us, he replied.
She didnt feel like drinking tea or eating the things shed brought, as if they werent even for her. Shed hoped maybe her parents were teaching her independence, that she shouldnt rely on them any more. But it wasnt like that. James still roamed their house, emptying the fridge, and nobody ever told him stop living off mum and dad. He could take whatever he wanted, and they never blinked.
So, Harriet said, realizing there was nothing for her to do there, I think Im off. Ive got to be going.
She left without waiting for any objections. Visiting her parents no longer felt right.
Time passed, and the tea incident still stung. She didnt drop by her parents, and they didnt show up at her place either. Then James gave her a ring one Saturday, not far from her flat in Manchester.
Hey Harriet answered.
Hey, Harriet! Youve got that new flat near the academy, right? James said.
Yes, she replied.
Great! Im taking the kids to the pool at the academy, theyre exhausted, and we still have to get home. Mind if we pop over for a bit? Its close.
Harriet wasnt thrilled about hosting James and his kids, but she didnt want to be rude with them already en route. She hoped it wouldnt become a regular thing.
Sure come on over, she said.
Fifteen minutes later they were spilling into her living roomJames, two windblown kids, and a whole lot of energy. The flat was nothing fancy; the kitchen was a bit dated, the hob looked ancient, but it was hers.
Whats for lunch? James muttered, already rifling through the fridge.
No one had invited him to eat. The same old habit of grabbing without asking. In her parents house shed never dared say anything; here she was the one in charge.
She slammed the fridge door shut.
Oh, come on, Harriet! Youre not feeding us? Whos going to feed us then? James scoffed, leaning in.
Enough, James. Youre an adult. Feed yourself, Harriet snapped, closing the fridge again.
He looked bewildered. Whats that supposed to mean?
Dont rummage around in other peoples cupboards. I bought this for myself, not you, she said, pulling out two bottles of drinkable yogurt for the kids. Here, have a snack. Thats all. Now go home, Ive got my own stuff to sort.
She handed the yogurt to the children, then, without waiting for a reply, ushered James and the kids out the door.
Later, a text pinged from Susan: Didnt expect this from you, Harriet. Youve become so cold, so greedy. We raised you differently. Until you learn how to behave, youre not welcome here.
Harriet stared at the message, a mix of frustration and relief stirring inside her. Shed finally drawn the line.
