I turned a page in my book.
Sarah marched in, dropping her designer purse on the counter.
“Why is the pantry locked? Pamela, I need to get the truffle oil for my pasta.”
“Because it’s my pantry filled with food I bought with my money,” I replied without looking up. “There are two shelves in the main fridge for your items. If you want truffle oil, the grocery store is 3 miles down the road.”
“This is ridiculous.”
Sarah raised her voice.
“We live here, too. You can’t just lock up the food like we’re children.”
“Actually, I can. It’s my house, my locks, my groceries.”
I finally closed my book and looked at her.
“When you pay rent, you can negotiate access to amenities. Until then, you are guests who have overstayed their welcome. You have 26 days left.”
Jason crossed his arms.
“You’re not kicking us out. Mom, stop threatening us. We’re family.”
“Family respects one another,” I corrected him. “You called me a leech. You treat me like a servant. I am neither. I am the owner of this property, and I want you out.”
I stood up, picked up my teacup, and walked past them.
They stood in the kitchen completely stunned. For the first time, Jason didn’t yell. He realized I wasn’t arguing. I wasn’t trying to convince him of my worth. I was just shutting the door.
The following weekend, Sarah decided to host a brunch for three of her friends. She didn’t ask me. She simply announced it by leaving a sticky note on the counter that read, “Friends coming at 11. Please stay out of the living room.”
I didn’t get angry. I didn’t rip up the note. I simply went to the smart thermostat panel in the hallway.
Sarah loved to keep the house at a freezing 65° so she could wear her expensive cashmere sweaters indoors. I opened the control box, disabled the digital panel, and locked the temperature at a balmy 78° using my master app on my phone.
Then I packed a small bag and drove out to a local spa for the afternoon.
When I returned at 4 oz p.m. Jason was pacing the driveway. He looked sweaty and miserable.
“Where have you been?” He demanded as I stepped out of my car. “The AC is broken. Sarah’s friends were sweating through their shirts. It was a disaster. Why didn’t you answer your phone?”