For the first time that night, something almost mischievous appeared in her expression.
“Because I have an idea.”
Part 5: A Mother Finally Stops Rescuing Her Son
Barbara arrived before sunrise.
June agreed to watch Chloe for a little while, and Barbara ordered me into the car without explaining anything.
“Where are we going?”
“You’ll see.”
“Barbara…”
“No questions.”
She glanced sideways at me.
“You have a terrible poker face.”
“My what?”
“Your face. You’ll give everything away.”
I was too tired to argue.
Twenty minutes later, we turned onto Eric’s street.
Barbara parked a short distance from his house.
Then she opened the trunk.
It was completely full.
Boxes.
Clothes.
Photographs.
A guitar.
Childhood trophies.
College belongings.
Things Eric had apparently left at his mother’s home for years.
“What are we doing?”
Barbara handed me a box.
“Returning property.”
Together, we carried everything to Eric’s porch.
Barbara arranged the boxes neatly.
Then she placed a handwritten note on top.
YOU WANTED YOUR OWN LIFE. NOW YOU HAVE ALL OF IT.
I stared at her.
“This is the plan?”
She shut the trunk.
“This is the first part.”
“There are more parts?”
“Oh, yes.”
We parked nearby and waited.
Around twenty minutes later, Eric opened his front door.
He stopped dead.
“What the hell?”
Tessa appeared behind him in slippers.
Eric picked up the note.
His expression changed immediately.
“My mother.”
Tessa lifted one of his old trophies.
“Why is your childhood on our porch?”
“I don’t know.”
That was when Barbara stepped out of the car.
“Good morning.”
Eric turned.
“Mom?”
She approached calmly.
“You said you wanted your own life. I’m finished providing storage for it.”
He stared at her.
“So Claire complained to you and now you’re doing this?”
Barbara smiled faintly.
“No, Eric. The boxes aren’t the important part.”
Tessa stopped examining the trophy.
Eric crossed his arms.
“What are you talking about?”
Barbara removed an envelope from her purse.
“I’m informing you that our housing arrangement is going to change.”
Tessa frowned.
“What housing arrangement?”
Barbara looked at her.
“The arrangement under which Eric rents this house from me well below market value.”
The color drained from Eric’s face.
Tessa slowly turned toward him.
“You rent this place?”
Eric’s jaw tightened.
“Mom.”
But Barbara wasn’t finished.
“I bought the property because Eric couldn’t qualify for the mortgage himself. I’ve charged him a family rate ever since.”
Tessa looked stunned.
“You told me this house was yours.”
“Can everyone stop talking?”
Eric snapped the words.
Barbara remained perfectly calm.
“When the current agreement ends, so does the special rate. After that, you may pay the normal amount or move.”
Eric stared at his mother.
“You can’t completely change my life because you’re angry.”
Barbara’s expression hardened.
“I’m not angry with you.”
A pause.
“I’m ashamed of you.”
The words landed harder than shouting ever could have.
Eric looked away.
Barbara continued.
“Claire didn’t ask me to do this. She didn’t even know about the house. I’m doing it because I’ve finally realized how long I’ve protected you from the consequences of your own choices.”
Then she turned toward me.
“We’re leaving.”
Eric followed us toward the car.
“Mom, come on. Seriously.”
Barbara opened my door.
“No, Eric. I’ve spent thirty-four years waiting for you to grow up.”
Then we drove away.
Part 6: I Stopped Begging
Barbara’s next stop was the pharmacy.
She paid for Chloe’s medication and breathing supplies.
I sat in the passenger seat afterward with the pharmacy bag on my lap.
My mind kept replaying Eric’s words.
Find somebody who cares.
Barbara had never heard him say that.
Somehow, that made everything feel even heavier.
“I’ll pay you back,” I said.
Barbara nodded.
“Yes, you will.”
I looked at her, surprised.
Then she smiled.
“Because the solution to Eric refusing responsibility cannot be another woman carrying everything forever.”
For the first time, I understood what Barbara was trying to do.
She wasn’t replacing Eric.
She was helping me stand long enough to stop depending on him voluntarily.
Back at my apartment, she opened a notebook.
“Money removed from the savings account?”
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