For years, I had confused helping my family with permanently carrying them. There was a difference.
I spent the rest of the afternoon outside, trimming my rose bushes and enjoying the warm breeze. I didn’t call Adrien. I didn’t send Belle a warning. There was nothing to discuss.
Adults receive bills every day. They survive.
Friday morning brought exactly the reaction I expected. I was sitting on my porch with a mystery novel when Adrien came marching across the lawn. His phone was in his hand.
“Mom.”
I placed my bookmark between the pages.
“Good morning, Adrien.”
“My phone doesn’t work.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“And the Wi-Fi is down in the house.”
“My Wi-Fi is working perfectly.”
He stared at me.
“What?”
I took another sip of coffee.
“Your phone and internet services are no longer attached to my accounts.”
His eyebrows pulled together.
“You canled them.”
“I removed you from my plans.”
“You can’t just do that.”
I smiled faintly.
“Of course I can. You have your own responsibilities now.”
His face changed immediately.
“Seriously? You’re still doing this because of that stupid letter?”
Before I could answer, the main house door slammed open. Belle appeared wearing a silk robe and looking furious.
“Camille,” she shouted. “What did you do to the internet?”
“I stopped paying for it.”
Her mouth fell open.
“You cut us off without telling us.”
“You’ve lived here for 6 years without paying rent. I assumed you had enough time to prepare for ordinary household expenses.”
“We have a child.”
“And you have two working adults in that house.”
Belle folded her arms. Her expression hardened.
“You are being unbelievably petty.”
“No,” I said. “I’m becoming organized.”
She looked at Adrienne, clearly expecting him to defend her. He said nothing. Then she turned back toward me.
“If you’re going to behave like this, maybe you shouldn’t expect to see your grandson this weekend.”
There it was, the threat.
For years, Belle had discovered that mentioning my grandson was the fastest way to make me surrender. If she needed child care, I helped. If she wanted me to buy something, I considered it. If she disliked one of my decisions, she reminded me how easily family relationships could become complicated.
But something had changed.
I picked up my book.
“That is your decision as his mother.”
Belle stared at me. She had expected tears. Instead, she received a turn page.
For several seconds, neither of them moved. Then Adrienne muttered something under his breath, and the two of them returned to the main house.
The following morning, I made another change. Belle had developed a terrible habit over the years. She treated my cottage as though it belonged to everyone. Sometimes she entered without knocking to borrow food. Other times she took laundry supplies, kitchen items, or whatever else she needed.
Once I returned from an appointment and found her sitting in my living room, searching through a cabinet. When I asked what she was doing, she laughed and said she was looking for batteries.
I had ignored too much.
Saturday morning, I drove to the hardware store. I purchased new locks for both my front and back doors. My late husband had taught me enough about home repairs to handle basic projects, and replacing a deadbolt was well within my abilities.
By lunchtime, the old locks were gone.