I bought most of the groceries.
I paid every utility bill.
I paid for the premium cable package Harper watched every evening and the high-speed internet she said she needed for her part-time work from home.
I was even still paying David’s car insurance.
That had started when he was in college. Then he graduated. Then he got his first job. Then life happened, and somehow that automatic payment had simply continued.
David’s salary, meanwhile, was supposedly going into their savings account.
I had never asked to see the balance because I trusted him.
I also didn’t ask Harper how much she spent on maternity clothes, takeout, manicures, or the designer baby items that seemed to arrive at my house every other day.
It wasn’t my business.
At least, that was what I had told myself.
But if two adults wanted to decide who could live in my home while I was financing their lifestyle, then my generosity had clearly created confusion.
That afternoon Harper went out for a manicure.
I sat at my desk with a yellow legal pad, my laptop, and a cup of coffee.
Then I started making calls.
First, I canceled the premium cable package.
I rarely watched those channels anyway.
Then I downgraded the internet to the basic plan. It was perfectly adequate for my email, online banking, and reading the news.
Finally, I opened my bank account and stopped the automatic payment for David’s car insurance.
I stared at the confirmation page for a moment after I clicked the button.
I didn’t feel triumphant.
Mostly, I felt embarrassed that I had allowed the arrangement to continue for so long.
There is a difference between helping your grown child get on his feet and carrying him so long that he forgets he has feet.
Harper came home later that afternoon carrying a small shopping bag.
I heard her heels cross the foyer.
A few seconds later, the television clicked on.
Then off.
Then on again.
“Georgia?”
I remained in my study.
“Georgia!”
I walked into the living room holding the book I had been reading.
“The Wi-Fi is down,” she said. “And the TV isn’t working.”
“Oh. I canceled the premium packages.”
She stared at me.
“You what?”
“I only need basic internet, and I never watch those channels. It didn’t make financial sense for me to keep paying for them.”
Her mouth tightened.
“But I need high-speed internet for work.”
“Then you should probably set up an account in your name.”
She looked at me as if I had started speaking another language.
“And I watch those channels.”
I nodded pleasantly.
“The router is in the hallway. Let me know when the installation person is coming and I’ll make sure the door is unlocked.”
She didn’t say anything for several seconds.
I went back to my book.
David came home about an hour later.
I knew Harper had gotten to him before he came looking for me because he had that familiar expression on his face—the one that said he had already heard one side of a problem and hoped I would make his life easier by surrendering.
“Mom, come on,” he said. “We’re trying to save money here.”
“So am I.”