“No,” I replied, clipping a dead stem. “I changed the password.”
Jason stared.
“Okay, so what’s the new password?”
“It’s a secret.”
I smiled politely.
“Since I am a jobless leech, I realized I can’t afford to provide high-speed internet for a dual income couple. Use your cellular data.”
Jason’s face flushed.
“Are you kidding me? You’re throwing a tantrum over last night. Give me the password.”
“No,” I answered simply. Moving to the next bush.
He stood there waiting for me to cave like I had for the past 8 months. I didn’t. I was was done smoothing over his life while paying their utility bills.
“Fine,” Jason barked. “I’ll just set up my own network today.”
“Feel free,” I called out as he marched inside. “The installation guy can drill the holes at your new apartment.”
They still thought this was just a phase. They severely underestimated the boundaries of a woman who had finally had enough.
By Wednesday, the reality of my new rules had started to ruin their routine. I had stopped doing their laundry. When Sarah dumped her silk blouses in the hamper in the hallway, I simply picked them up and dropped them right back onto her bedroom floor.
But the real shock came when they went looking for snacks.
After my husband passed, I had customuilt a walk-in pantry in the kitchen. It was my pride and joy. Stocked with imported olive oils, gourmet coffees, fine wines, and organic snacks.
Sarah loved to rate it, often taking my $40 bottles of wine to her friends houses and claiming she bought them.
When Jason and Sarah returned from work that evening, they walked straight to the kitchen. I was sitting at the island reading a novel and enjoying a cup of herbal tea.
Jason reached for the pantry door handle and pulled. It didn’t open. He rattled it harder. A shiny new deadbolt sat neatly above the doororknob.
“Mom, the door is stuck.” He grunted, pulling again.
“It’s locked. Jason.”