«You have to help meyou’re my mum!»
«Charlotte, you’re back again,» Eleanor sighed, pulling off her coat as she watched her daughter rummaging through the fridge. «Why did you move out if you keep coming back? Maybe it wasnt the best idea after all…»
Charlotte spun around, clutching a packet of ham to her chest.
«Mum! You scared me half to death, creeping in like that!» she huffed, but then flashed a disarming smile. «I just popped by to see how you’re doing.»
Eleanor set her shopping bags on the table and studied her daughter. At twenty-four, Charlotte looked every bit the grown woman, yet there was still something childlikealmost helplessin her eyes.
«Here to see me or raid my fridge?» Eleanor asked gently.
Charlotte flushed, staring at the floor. She hesitated before blurting out in one breath,
«Look, Mum, my wages vanished suspiciously fast. Ive got a week to go before payday, and theres nothing left. So, yeah»
Eleanor bit back a sigh. Charlotte had rushed into moving out, desperate to prove her independence. But could she have stopped her? Young people always chase freedom without thinking of the consequences.
«Dont say ‘I told you so’,» Charlotte cut in, raising a hand to silence her. «I just miscalculated a bit. Itll be finesoon Ill be the one bringing *you* gifts and ordering *you* groceries. Promise!»
Eleanor shook her head. Her daughters stubborn optimism hadnt faded with age.
«Take what you need, love. Dont worry.»
She watched as Charlotte methodically emptied the fridgeham, cheese, crème fraîche, vegetablesall vanishing into her oversized tote. From the cupboards went tins of baked beans and pasta, and from the pantry, a hefty bag of potatoes.
«Thisll last me the week!» Charlotte cheered, planting a loud kiss on her mums cheek. «Thanks, Mum! Youre the best!»
Eleanor walked her to the door, giving her shoulder a squeeze.
Silence settled over the flat. Leaning against the wall, Eleanor thought back to herself at Charlottes agejuggling work, a husband, and a toddler. How had she managed it all? Now even a trip to the shops left her drained.
«Where did my youth go?» she whispered, catching her reflection in the hallway mirror.
The fine lines around her eyes, the silver streaks in her once-thick chestnut hair. Time was relentless. Her best years had slipped away in work and worrystudies, jobs, raising Charlotte. She regretted nothing, yet sometimes a deep ache made her want to howl.
A week later, Eleanor called her daughter. A mothers heart couldnt rest.
«Do you need money? Anything?» she asked the moment Charlotte answered.
Her daughter laughed breezily.
«Mum, I got paiddont fuss. Im a big girl now!»
«Big girl, my foot,» Eleanor muttered. «Who ran out of food last week? Charlotte, listenmaybe you should move back? Itd be easier.»
Silence. Then Charlotte exhaled sharply, irritation barely contained.
«Mum, I *am* grown up! I want my own place. So what if I stumble a bit? Ill manage. Why dont you believe in me?»
Eleanor faltered. She hadnt meant to hurt herjust to protect her.
«Sorry, love. I worry. To me, youll always be my little girl.»
The call ended awkwardly, leaving a sour aftertaste. Eleanor sat clutching her phone, lost in thought. Raising Charlotte had been hard, but letting her go was harder.
Three days later, Eleanor returned home late from a friends. The moment she stepped inside, she heard noise in the kitchen. Her heart jumpedburglars? But no, it was Charlotte, munching a sandwich by the open fridge.
«Youre back! Just borrowing a few things. Paid the rent today and realized Id be skint till payday. Same old story…»
Her smile lacked its usual warmth. Something calculating had crept into her gaze.
«Thought you were all grown and independent?» Eleanor asked wearily, sinking into a chair.
Charlotte tossed her hair, packing groceries into her bag.
«I *am* independent. But youre my mum. Its your *job* to look after me.» Her tone made Eleanors stomach twist. «Consider this your chance to be a proper mum.»
Into the bag went fruit, vegetables, a ready-made salad, and five yoghurts. Eleanor watched silently. *A job?* Since when was love an obligation?
Charlottes visits grew frequent. New shoes, a phone upgrade, rent hikesalways a reason to clean out her mums fridge.
Eleanor endured it. How could she scold her own child? But each visit weighed heavier. Charlotte stopped pretending she came to chat. No questions about her mums health, no interest in her life. Just take and leave.
One evening, Eleanor returned soaked from autumn rain. Shivering, she opened the freezer.
«Need to thaw the chicken,» she murmured. «Roast it with potatoes and peppers. Maybe a salad…»
Her hand froze. The freezer was empty. Four shelves, once packed with meat and veg, now bare. She yanked open the fridge dooronly a jar of mustard sat there. *Charlotte hated mustard.*
Hands trembling, she dialled her daughter.
«Mum, what?» Charlotte snapped.
«Did you take *all* the food?» Eleanors voice shook.
«Yeah!» Charlotte said airily. «Thought Id save myself the trips. Wasted time, really!»
Eleanor shut her eyes against the sting of tears. How could her daughter be so callous?
«Charlotte, I just got homeI was going to make dinner»
«Mum,» Charlotte cut in, irritated. «Just pop to the shops! Walkings good for you. Doctors say so. Gotta gobye!»
The line died. Eleanor slumped into a chair, staring at her phone. Bitterness swelled in her chest. Had she become just a free grocery service?
Empty fridges became routine. Every fortnight, Eleanor found her supplies gone. Charlotte didnt even bother with excuses anymore.
Then one night, shattered glass woke Eleanor. She rushed to the kitchen to find Charlotte kneeling, wiping up spilled mustard amid shards.
«Even took the mustard? *Hated* stuff?» Eleanor snapped.
Charlotte glared.
«Oh, relax. Stop lecturing and help!»
«Why didnt you wake me? What are you doing here unannounced? Sneaking in like»
Charlotte flung the cloth down, leaving yellow streaks. She stood, arms crossedmirroring Eleanors own stance when displeased.
«I have keys, Mum. Remember? This is *my* home too! Why should I announce myself? Or am I banned now?»
Eleanor shook her head.
«Youre welcomebut you dont visit *me*, you visit my fridge. Charlotte, Im not made of money. I cant feed us both, especially when you take *everything*.»
Charlotte slammed the fridge door, eyes blazing.
«You *begrudge* your own daughter food? You *said* I could take what I needed!»
«I meant *once*!» Eleanors voice broke. «But you treat my home like a free supermarket! I never know if Ill have dinner or go hungry. This isnt right!»
Charlotte stepped back, avoiding the glass.
«Regretting that first handout, are you? Just say it! I thought you were my *mum*! Youre *supposed* to help!»
«Youre twenty-four!» Eleanor shot back. «I dont *owe* you meals! If you cant managecome home! Pay your share. At least youd save rent.»
Charlotte froze. Fury twisted her face.
«I *dont* want to live with you! Oliver and I moved in together! But I didnt realize hed eat so much!»
Eleanor went still. Her daughter had a live-in boyfriend and hadnt mentioned it. Yet shed been feeding him with stolen groceries.
«And thats *my* problem?» Eleanors voice turned icy.
«But you *have* to help! Youre my *mum*!» Charlotte near-shrieked.
«Let Oliver raid *his* mums fridge!» Eleanor sat heavily. «Or get a second job. If two adults cant feed themselves, *youre* the problem. Ive dipped into savingsfor what? To feed your greedy boyfriend?»
Charlottes face blotched red.
«How *dare* you! Olivers wonderful! Youre a *horrible* mother! A good one would *support* her daughter!»
Eleanor cradled her head. Hurt choked her.
«Charlotte, leave. Please.» Her voice was hollow. «For months, youve seen me as a grocery app. I need time. You lied. You used me. Take whatevers left. Consider it a parting gift. And go.»
She didnt look up as Charlotte filled her bag. Only the slam of the door made her flinch. The kitchen clocks ticking filled the silence.
Eleanor rose and went to the window. Somewhere in the city, her daughter was heading back to Oliver, her loot in tow.
«Tomorrow, Ill change the locks,» she murmured. «Time they learned responsibility. Let them live within their means.»
She did. Charlotte didnt call, didnt text. The silence was better than being treated like a pantry. A month passed before her daughter finally reached out.
**Sometimes, love means knowing when to say noeven to those we cherish most. Eleanor answered the phone slowly, her voice calm but firm. «Hello, Charlotte.»
There was a pause on the other end, then a quiet, unsteady breath. «Mum… I just wanted to say I’m sorry. I didn’t see ithow much I was taking. From you. From us.»
Eleanor closed her eyes, the weight of months lifting just a little. «I know, love. I do too. For not setting boundaries sooner.»
Another silence, softer now. «Can I come over? Not for food. Just… to talk?»
«Yes,» Eleanor said. «That would be nice.»
And for the first time in a long while, she meant it.
