“You have to help me, you’re my mother,”
“Emily, you’re here again,” Valerie sighed, unbuttoning her coat as she watched her daughter rummage through the fridge. “Why did you move out if you keep coming back? Maybe it wasnt the right time…”
Emily spun around, clutching a packet of sliced ham to her chest.
“Mum! You scared me! Like a ghost or something,” she huffed, but then broke into a disarming grin. “Just popped in to see how you’re doing.”
Valerie set her shopping bags on the table and studied her daughter. At twenty-four, Emily looked every bit the adult, yet something childlike and helpless still flickered in her eyes.
“Here to see me, or raid the fridge?” Valerie asked gently.
Emily flushed and dropped her gaze to the floor. For a moment, she hesitated, gathering her thoughts, then blurted out in one breath,
“Look, Mum, my wages just… vanished suspiciously fast. Ive got a week till payday, and theres nothing left for food. So, yeah. Thats where we are.”
Valerie suppressed a heavy sigh. Her daughter had rushed into moving out, desperate to prove her independence. But could she have stopped her? The young always leap before they look.
“Dont say ‘I told you so’,” Emily cut in, raising a hand to ward off any lecture. “I just miscalculated, thats all. Next month will be better, Mum! Soon, Ill be the one bringing you gifts and ordering your groceries. Youll see!”
Valerie shook her head. Emilys stubborn optimism hadnt faded with time.
“Take what you need, love. Dont worry.”
She watched as her daughter methodically emptied the fridgeham, cheese, cream, vegetablesall vanishing into her oversized tote. From the cupboards went packets of pasta and rice, and from the pantry, a hefty bag of potatoes.
“That should last me the week!” Emily chirped, planting a loud kiss on her mothers cheek. “Thanks, Mum! Youre the best!”
Valerie walked her to the door, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze.
Silence settled in the flat. Leaning against the wall, Valerie thought back to herself at Emilys agejuggling work, a husband, and a small child. How had she managed it all? Now, even a trip to the shops left her exhausted.
“Where did my youth go? Slipped away without a word…” she murmured, catching her reflection in the hallway mirror. Wrinkles at the corners of her eyes, streaks of grey in what was once thick chestnut hair. Time was relentless. Her best years had been spent in endless choresstudying, working, raising Emily. She regretted nothing, but sometimes a deep melancholy threatened to swallow her whole.
A week later, Valerie called her daughter. A mothers worry never rested.
“Do you need money? Anything?” she asked the moment Emily picked up.
A carefree laugh answered her.
“Mum, Ive been paid, dont fret. Im a big girl now!”
“Big girl, my foot,” Valerie muttered. “Who was it that ran out of food last week? Emily, listenwhy dont you just come home? Itd be easier.”
Silence. Then an audible huff as Emily stifled irritation.
“Mum, Im grown! I want my own place. So what if I stumble a bit? Ill manage. Why dont you believe in me?”
Valerie faltered. She hadnt meant to upset her, only to protect her.
“Im sorry, love. I just worry. To me, youll always be my little girl.”
The conversation fizzled out, leaving an uneasy weight. Valerie sat clutching the phone, lost in thought. Raising Emily had been hardbut letting her go was harder.
…Three days later, Valerie returned from a friends late to the sound of clattering in the kitchen. Her heart jumpedburglars? But it was just Emily, leaning into the fridge, devouring a sandwich.
“Back already? Just helping myself to your supplies. Paid the rent today, realised Id be skint till payday. Same old story…”
Emily smiled, but the warmth was gone. Something calculating had crept into her gaze.
“And who said they were all grown and independent?” Valerie sighed, sinking into a chair.
Emily tossed her hair, packing more food into her bag.
“I *am* independent. But youre my mum. That means you *have* to help me. Its your job to take care of me.” The way she said it made Valeries chest tighten. “Im giving you a chance to be a proper mother.”
In went fruit, veg, a tub of pasta salad, and five yoghurts. Valerie watched in silence. *Her job?* Since when was love an obligation?
…Emilys visits grew frequent. New shoes, a phone upgrade, higher rentalways a reason to raid her mothers fridge. Valerie bit her tongue. How could she refuse her own child? But with each visit, resentment swelled. Emily no longer pretended to visit. No “How are you?” No interest in her mothers life. Just take and leave.
…One evening, Valerie came home drenched. Autumn rain had caught her halfway from the shops. Shrugging off her sodden coat, she headed to the kitchen.
“Need to thaw the chicken,” she muttered, opening the freezer.
Her hand stilled. The shelves were bare. Four compartments, once stocked with meat and veg, now empty. She yanked open the fridge door. A lone jar of mustard sat on the middle shelfEmily hated mustard.
Hands shaking, Valerie dialled her daughter.
“Mum, what?” Emily snapped.
“Emily, did you take all the food?” Valeries voice trembled.
“Yeah!” Emily replied breezily. “Thought Id save myself the trips. No point wasting time!”
Valerie shut her eyes against the sting of tears. How had her daughter become so callous?
“Emily, how could you? I just got homeI was going to cook”
“Mum,” Emily cut in, annoyed. “Just pop to the shops! Walkings good for you. Doctors orders. Anyway, gotta go, bye!”
The line went dead. Valerie slumped into a chair, staring at the blank screen. Bitter disappointment welled inside. Had she become nothing but a free grocery service?
…The emptied fridge became routine. Every fortnight, Valerie found bare shelves. Emily didnt even bother with excuses anymore.
One night, the crash of breaking glass jolted Valerie awake. She dashed to the kitchenEmily knelt on the floor, wiping up spilled mustard, shattered glass around her.
“Even took the mustard? The one thing you hate?” Valerie said sharply.
Emily glared up.
“Oh, Mum, dont start. Just help me clean this!”
“Why didnt you wake me? Sneaking in like a thief”
Emily threw the cloth down, leaving yellow streaks on the tiles. She stood, arms crossedmirroring Valeries own stance when displeased.
“Ive got a key, *Mum*. Remember? This is my home too! Why should I announce myself? Or am I not welcome anymore?”
Valerie shook her head.
“You are. But you dont come for meyou come for the food. Emily, Im not made of money. I cant feed both of us, especially when you take *everything*.”
Emily slammed the fridge door. Anger flashed in her eyes.
“You grudge your own daughter food? *You* said I could take what I needed!”
“I thought itd be once or twice!” Valeries voice cracked. “But you treat my home like a free supermarket! I never know if Ill have dinner or go to bed hungry. Thats not right, Emily!”
Emily backed toward the window, avoiding the glass.
“Regretting helping me now, are you? Just say it! And I thought you were my *mother*! Mothers help! You *owe* me!”
“Emily, youre twenty-four!” Valerie cut in. “I dont *owe* you meals! If you cant manage, come home! Pay your share. At least you wont starve.”
Emily froze. Fury twisted her face before she spat,
“I dont *want* to live with you! Understand? James and I moved in together! But I didnt realise hed eat so muchlike a bottomless pit!”
Valerie went still. Her daughter had a boyfriend. And hadnt told her. Yet shed been stealing food to feed him.
“And thats *my* problem?” Valeries voice turned icy. “Hes your partner. Your responsibility.”
“But you *have* to help! Youre my mum!” Emily near-shrieked.
“Let James raid *his* mothers fridge!” Valeries legs gave way; she dropped into a chair. “Or get a second job. If two grown adults cant feed themselves, maybe *youre* the problem. Ive dipped into my savingsfor what? To feed your greedy boyfriend?”
Emilys face blotched red.
“How *dare* you! James is wonderful! And youyoure a terrible mother! A good one would support her daughter, help with money! But you begrudge me a loaf of bread!”
Valerie clutched her head. Hurt choked her.
“Emily, leave. Please,” she said hollowly. “For months, youve seen me as a free shopping service. I need time. You lied. You used me. Take whatevers left. Consider it my last gift. And go.”
She didnt look up as Emily filled her bag. Only the slam of the front door made her flinch. The kitchen clock ticked in the silence.
Valerie rose slowly, walked to the window. Somewhere in the city, her daughter was heading back to James with the last of her mothers food.
“Tomorrow, Ill change the locks,” she whispered. “Time they learned what responsibility means.”
…Valerie heard nothing from Emily for weeks. No calls, no texts. The silence hurtbut it was better than being treated like a grocery dispenser.
A month later, Emily finally rang.
