Harriet, stop milking the parents for everything, James shouted, loud enough for the whole kitchen to hear. Youre grown, youve got a brain of your own earn your own keep. Dont be a leech on Mum and Dad.
Leech on mum and dad The words hung heavy, too much already.
***
Right, wheres the milk? Harriet rummaged through the fridge, fingers stretching for the white carton with the bold red lettering. Got it, now we can whip up some pancakes
Before she could snatch it, the freezer door slammed shut, almost pinching her hand. She jerked back just in time. Milk stayed out of reach, and she stared at the bloke whod practically shoved her.
Mum, whats that about? she asked, bewildered. I just wanted the milk for pancakes then we could all have a proper breakfast.
Susan, standing nearby with a rag, shook her head.
Were not after pancakes.
Fine, Ill just have something else. Its almost dinner time anyway.
Mum nudged Harriet away from the fridge, pretending to wipe the floor.
You can eat at home, love, she muttered, swishing the rag over the freshly mopped tiles. Youre here to chat, not to raid the larder.
Chat
Dont expect us to feed you, you know.
Mum scrubbed under the fridge while Harriet set aside the flour shed already pulled out, acting as if it didnt bother her. The whole thing felt as bleak as being back in her childhood home nowhere she actually belonged.
At twentytwo, fresh with her university degree, she’d been crashing in a student flat because her internship barely covered rent. She was gearing up for a betterpaid job, hoping to finally afford a decent place of her own. Her mums cold shoulder only made that dream feel further away.
Back at her parents house, where shed always thought shed be welcome, they pointed her not toward the front door but toward the fridge door that she wasnt allowed to open.
Mum, Im not she started, trying to explain.
But nobody heard her.
Harriet, food doesnt grow out of thin air. Youve got a job, you know that.
I only needed a bit
A bit of milk, a slice of ham, a spoonful of curd thats how you build a pantry.
I was trying to cook for everyone
Were not starving.
She never got the chance to finish, because James walked back in, two of his kids in tow. The youngsters, oblivious to the adult tension, were already rummaging through the toy shelf.
Harriet, stop milking the parents for everything, James repeated, louder this time, Youre an adult, youve got a head on your shoulders pull yourself together. Dont be a leech on mum and dad.
Harriet glanced at her brother, at the kids whod already opened a packet of biscuits on the kitchen table. They grabbed a sweet from the candy dish that never seemed to empty. And she, whod been cooking for everyone, wasnt even allowed a splash of milk for her pancakes?
Why cant I have any? she asked. James takes, his kids take
Susan snorted, waving a hand.
Its kids, Harriet, she said. Do you expect them to pay for their own snacks? To charge their grandchildren?
Mum smirked.
James laughed.
Love, youll think of something, youll see Kids are one thing, you need to learn some independence.
He wasnt embarrassed to swipe a whole pack of biscuits from the kids and shove it into his mouth.
What about you?
What about me? Im more independent than you lot look, Im carrying both kids, by the way. And you? No kid, no dog. How are you going to feed yourself?
You could at least try to make a living first!
Enough, Im done with this.
Adult, James said, as if the word were a slap. If youre an adult, why are you still feeding yourself off us?
Adult he went on.
Its time you start feeding your own parents, maybe even have kids of your own, instead of lugging around milk, he jabbed.
Sure, unlike you, Harriet shot back, sarcasm dripping.
Bravo! Youre finally getting it! Thats a revelation.
Ill take notes from you.
James crumpled the biscuit packet so fast it might as well have been lightspeed.
Harriet realised that in this house she was no longer welcome, at least not the way shed been before. She was just a guest who had to stay low and not make waves.
Alright, she said, Im heading out.
Dont take it personally, love, James called after her, Your parents are being tough, but its to teach you independence. Its a bit late, but better late than never.
She didnt even say goodbye. She just walked out, no bows, no drama. James babbled on about adult life, responsibility, and the notrespassinginotherpeoplesfridges rule, while Harriet tuned it all out.
For a few weeks she didnt show up at her parents place. She had a good reason. She quit her deadend job no raises, no decent salary and landed a promising new role with a solid team and, finally, a paycheck that could actually cover her own flat without sharing with noisy flatmates.
She eagerly awaited her first paycheck. Visiting Mum and Dad wasnt on the agenda; the entrance to their house now felt like a paid ticket she couldnt afford.
One afternoon, after work, a new colleague, Olivia, stopped by. Olivia, a bit older, was acting as her mentor.
Harriet, dont just sit there. Get used to the workload, youve got a lot on your plate, Olivia said. Youre probably exhausted. Fancy a coffee? I know a lovely little place just around the corner.
I still have a few things to finish
Youll finish later, Olivia practically pulled Harriet up from the chair. A breather wont hurt the brain.
A bit worn but generally content, Harriet agreed.
At the café, Olivia insisted on treating her.
Oh, thanks, Olivia, but Ill pay, Harriet protested.
Nonsense! Olivia winked. Im not broke, youre just new, maybe short on cash. Its fine I wont go broke buying a colleague a coffee.
Those simple, unjudgmental words hit Harriet straight in the heart. It felt good to be looked after like a friend, not like a burden.
Thanks, she murmured.
Work settled, money piled up, and soon enough Harriet could afford her own flat. Shed never had it so easy before first the cramped student house, then a tiny rented room, and now a proper apartment.
With everything sorted, she thought it was time to pay a visit to her parents. Of course she didnt want to show up emptyhanded, especially after the cold reception shed gotten. She packed a hefty grocery bag fruit, veg, sweets, cheese, ham basically everything they usually bought themselves, hoping they wouldnt toss it away.
Hey Mum! she called cheerily as she stepped inside. Wheres Dad?
He went out to take out the bins and got stuck, Mum replied. Good youre here. We thought youd forgotten about us.
Harriet set the bag on the kitchen table.
Whats this? Mum asked.
Its for you, a little contribution to our lunch, Harriet said, pulling out the cheese. Snack?
Sure, why not, Mum answered.
Dad returned a few minutes later, juggling the rubbish bag, chatting with a neighbour for about half an hour before heading back home with the trash. After a few sandwiches, Harriet felt thirsty.
Fancy a cuppa? she said, heading to the kitchen.
Tea? Dad frowned a bit. Did you bring any tea?
No
Then have a bite. You didnt bring tea.
It was the last straw.
Dad, I brought loads of other stuff! Harriet retorted, gesturing to the grocery bag.
Eat that then, love. The teas on us, he replied.
She realized she didnt want tea, didnt want to eat the food shed brought, didnt even feel like chatting. It wasnt that her parents were trying to teach her independence that was a nice thought, but James still came over, emptied the fridge, and never got a rebuke about milking the parents. He could take whatever he wanted; no one seemed to mind.
I think Ive had enough, Harriet said, feeling pointless there. Ill be off now.
She left without waiting for any protest.
She stopped visiting her parents altogether after that. The tea incident lingered. They never called, and she didnt either. Then, one Saturday, James rang.
Hey
Hey, Harriet! James said. Youve got that flat near Greenfield, right?
Yeah, she replied.
Great! Im taking the kids to the pool at Greenfield, theyre exhausted, dragging their feet, and we still have the drive home. Mind if we pop over for a quick breather? Its close.
She wasnt thrilled about the kids, but she didnt want to be rude when they were already on the way.
Um sure, come in, she said.
In about fifteen minutes, James and his two windblown kids crashed onto her sofa. The flat, still a bit rough around the edges, wasnt exactly a luxury.
Wow, Harriet, youve got a bit of a fixerupper here, James remarked, strolling to the kitchen. Not a fivestar, but itll do. At least theres a roof over our heads! He grinned and, without waiting for an invitation, dove straight into her fridge.
Whats for lunch? he muttered, rifling through the shelves.
No one had even asked what they wanted to eat. His habit of helping himself, regardless of where he was, was still there only now it was in her own kitchen.
Harriet slammed the fridge door shut.
Seriously, James? You think you can just help yourself? If you dont want to, then serve yourself. Whos going to feed us?
Youre not supposed to be feeding us, love, she snapped, closing the door again as he tried to pry it open.
James looked confused.
I mean, stop rummaging through other peoples cupboards. I bought this stuff for myself, not for you, she said.
Fine, Ill manage. What about the kids? he asked, halfserious.
She can have a snack, Harriet replied, handing the kids two bottles of drinkable yoghurt. Thats it. Now, James, please head home. Ive got enough on my plate without you.
She pushed the yoghurt toward the kids, then ushered James and his brood out the door.
The whole day shed been bracing herself for a call from Mum, and of course James was the one to ping her first.
Didnt expect this from you, Harriet. Youve become so nasty, so greedy. We raised you differently. Until you learn how to behave, youre not welcome here.
