Dont meddle, this is my life! Blythe snapped, her voice tight.
You live off my money while I scrape by! Youre a grandmother and a mother! At least once actually help! she added, hurt.
The absurdity of the scene was that Blythe was sitting at the kitchen table of her mothers house. Victoria had thrown together a modest spread in a hurry but with care: teabread with sliced ham, generous wedges of cheddar and smoked salmon, and fresh rolls from the bakery down the road. A bowl of fruitgrapes, pomegranate seeds, clementinessat on the side. No exotic platters, but Victoria was a decent hostess.
Her grandson watched cartoons in the lounge, dressed in the new jumper his grandmother had bought him a few days earlier.
Blythe, dont ruin the mood, Victoria said, a little irritated. I lace your sons shoes, clothe him, drive him to his earlyyears class, even buy his medicines. Hes completely dependent on me. And youre still never satisfied?
Its your grandson, after all. Who else would look after him? Were already stretched thin, James and I. Loans, mortgage, council tax, nursery fees After all that, theres barely enough left for bread and pasta.
So what does that make me? Did I take out the loans for you? Did I force you to have children? Did you sell the flat because of me? You told me not to interfere, so I didnt. Now you expect me to pick up the tab again?
Mum! Blythe frowned. Look at how we live! I cant even do my own manicure; Ive run out of polish. My boots are falling apart, and if I step in a puddle Im soaked through, get a cold, and end up in bed. James has only one decent shirt left. Were not living, were surviving. And now you want to raise me! Its easy for you, you have smoked salmon for breakfast every day!
Victoria listened, lips pressed together. She knew Blythe was right in part; she had loved a little too fiercely. But love alone would not fix the problemconsequences would have to speak.
Blythe, havent I given you enough in life? Victoria said, squinting. You had everything. You wanted a touchscreen phone when everyone still used button phones you got it. You asked for a mink coat we bought it. I provided you with a home. Youre no longer a little girl; you need to fend for yourself.
Blythe puffed out her chest, hurt, and turned away, just as she had when a toy was denied because there was no room left in the house.
Victoria recalled young Blythe racing around the flat in a new tracksuit encrusted with sequins. A brandnew computer sat in her room, and a box with a camera lay in the wardrobea New Years gift. Blythes wishes changed faster than the pounds exchange rate. One day she wanted to be a photographer, the next a hairdresser, then an actress. Victoria kept opening her purse and signing her up for extra classes.
Let the girl enjoy herself. Childhood only comes once, her husband Peter would say with a grin.
Peter was a respected officer in the army, wellknown in their town. His salary meant the family never went short. Victoria also worked, though more for the joy of it. She could have stayed at home, but she liked being active in the community.
I want to try felting wool! Blythe declared after seeing a YouTube video.
Victoria whisked her to a craft shop, handed her a basket, and in half an hour it was brimming with colourful wool. Other parents might have handed over a single pack of yarn and a basic needle, but Victoria believed nurturing her daughters interests was sacred. They could afford it, so why not?
Blythe chased each new hobby with zeal, only to drop it after a couple of weeks for something else. Victoria found it bewildering but trusted that her daughter was simply testing herself. Blythe, meanwhile, grew accustomed to getting anything at the snap of a finger.
Then Peter died, leaving Victoria alone. She mourned him, but at least the ground beneath her felt solid. He had left a sizeable estate; the interest from the savings could have kept them comfortable, yet Victoria kept working until health issues forced her to stop.
Blythes conscience was clear. She paid for her daughters university in Manchester, bought a onebed flat in a new development, and oversaw a full renovation. Victoria felt she had checked every box on the good mother list. Ive given her everything she needs to start. Ill help while she studies, then shell manage on her own, she decided firmly.
But things did not go as planned.
Blythe was just starting her second year when she announced she had a boyfriend. James, too, owned an iPhone not the latest model, but his family was similarly welloff. The boyfriend, however, wore an arrogant grin and seemed utterly clueless about daily chores.
Blythe, finish your studies first, Victoria urged after Blythe introduced James. If you want to live together, thats your choice, but dont rush. Get a qualification, stand on your own feet, then think about a family.
Mum, dont interfere, Blythe snapped, frowning. This is my life.
Victoria kept her distance, but life unfolded far from Blythes expectations.
At first it was all sunshine. They lived in Blythes flat; Victoria paid the council tax and handed over pocket money for food and clothes. The young couple simply enjoyed each others company, bingewatched series, and stayed out until dawn.
James soon dropped out of university, claiming it was a waste of time.
I enrolled because my parents wanted me to, he admitted. Now I see its just a hobby.
Blythe followed suit, but for a different reason.
Mum, Im pregnant, she said over the phone one day. James and I have decided. Ill take a break from studies, and well see what happens.
Blythe Victoria sighed, covering her face with her hand, then steadied herself. If thats what youve decided, go ahead.
Will you help us? Blythe asked, hopeful.
Ill look after my grandson. Youre adults now. You have more than I did at your age. Manage yourselves, Victoria replied, though her heart tightened.
A heavy silence followed.
Right everythings clear now, Victoria muttered.
Blythe hung up.
There were tantrums, manipulations, careful probing of boundaries. Blythe complained about a broken fridge, a wornout coat, low iron levels from poor nutrition. Victoria only reacted to the latter, and then only because Blythe was pregnant and nursing.
The baby shouldnt suffer because his parents are fools, she muttered, shuffling groceries.
Then Blythe dropped another bombshell.
Were selling the flat. Well get a twobed house.
Blythe think carefully. The baby will still be with us.
No, Mum. Weve decided. We want a wedding, a honeymoon, everything proper.
Victoria clenched her teeth but stayed out of it.
Money slipped through their fingers: a wedding reception, a photographer, the latest iPhones, laptops, a holiday in Spain, a deposit on the new mortgage. The couple even took out loans.
Mortgage payments ballooned. Debts kept growing. Soon Blythe complained she was short on cash each month. Victoria fed her grandson everything formula, baby puree, nappies and for the past six months he had been living with her.
James got a job as a camera operator and does courier work on the side. Ill look for remote work too, well manage. Can you take little Tommy in for a while? Blythe asked.
Victoria agreed, but only to an extent. The child had everything he needed. As an adult, she could only offer advice, which they were unlikely to heed.
Blythe stared out the window, then turned to her mother.
If you dont help, Ill take Tommy away, she threatened. And youll never see him again.
Victoria laughed, though anxiety crept in.
Fine. Lets see how quickly you get fired and what youll survive on. Do you at least have money for nursery fees, dear?
Blythes face hardened, her breath quickened, yet she could not argue. In a few days she would have to return to her mother with an outstretched hand as another bill loomed.
You had everything. Im not to blame for how you squandered it, Victoria pressed on. And you expect to drag me and Tommy down with you. No. Youre adults; figure it out yourselves.
Blythe didnt finish her sandwich. She stood, grabbed her coat, and left without a word. Victoria let her go.
When the door closed, Victoria slipped into the lounge. Tommy slept on the sofa, clutching a plush owl pillow. She turned off the television so he wouldnt wake. For his sake Id move mountains, she thought, but for the two of them life will have to teach them.
And in that quiet moment she realized that love alone cannot replace responsibility; each generation must learn to stand on its own feet, or else the cycle of dependence will never end.
