“That internet is important.”
“Then you and Harper can pay for the speed you need.”
He rubbed the back of his neck.
I remembered that gesture from when he was sixteen and had dented my car.
“Mom—”
“Oh, and David?”
He looked up.
“Your auto insurance is due next week. Make sure you put your own credit card on the account.”
His hand dropped from his neck.
“What?”
“I’ve been paying it since college. You’re thirty-two, married, and about to become a father. I think you can handle your own insurance.”
He looked toward the living room, where Harper was waiting.
For once, I didn’t rescue him from the uncomfortable silence.
I opened my book and turned the page.
That was the moment both of them finally understood that the conversation that morning had changed something.
They had wanted me to understand that a baby was coming and life in the house would have to change.
They were right.
Life in my house was about to change quite a bit.
They just hadn’t realized yet whose comfort I intended to stop sacrificing.
Full story continuation
The following Sunday, I went grocery shopping by myself.
Normally I carried a list filled with things I never ate: organic berries, almond milk, gluten-free crackers, specialty avocado spread, and whatever expensive snack Harper had decided was essential that week.
This time, I left her list on the counter.
I bought regular milk, ordinary produce, a good steak, the coffee beans I loved, and a couple bottles of wine.
Then I stopped at the hardware store.
Along with my groceries, I brought home a heavy-duty padlock.
I cleared one large kitchen cabinet and put my coffee, snacks, nonperishable food, and a few other things I bought specifically for myself inside. Then I attached the latch and snapped the lock closed.
The next morning, Harper opened the refrigerator.
I was sitting at the kitchen table drinking coffee when I heard jars being moved around.
“Where’s the almond milk?”
“I didn’t buy any.”
She turned toward me.
“And the organic avocado spread?”
“Didn’t buy that either.”
She stared at me. “Why not? You know that’s what I eat.”
“I’ve decided we should separate our groceries. You and David have different preferences, so it makes more sense for you to buy what you want. I cleared two refrigerator shelves for you, and the left side of the pantry is available.”
Her eyes moved to the locked cabinet.
“Did you lock up the coffee?”
“I did.”
“Seriously?”
“Those beans are expensive, and they disappear quickly.”
Her cheeks reddened.
“You’re being incredibly petty, Georgia. I’m pregnant.”
“You are pregnant, Harper. You are not helpless.”
She looked genuinely offended.
I kept my voice calm.
“David is perfectly capable of providing food for his wife and his child. It’s probably a good time for him to start practicing.”
I washed my mug and went outside to work in the garden.
That became my approach.
No speeches.