— Mom, Dad, I’m moving out to a rental apartment.
James closely observed his parents, gauging their reaction to his words, but they remained completely calm.
— And don’t try to convince me to stay, — he added. — I’m leaving for good. I spoke with the landlord yesterday and arranged everything.
— That’s good… — His father, instead of showing concern, yawned. — The important thing is that you’re sure this time. This is the third time in six months you’ve planned to move out. I feel embarrassed for your future landlord, even without meeting her. You keep changing your mind…
— I won’t change my mind this time. — James looked meaningfully at his mother, expecting her to say something, but she stayed silent. — It’s decided. And you know why.
— We know, we know… — his father chuckled. — You’re earning your own money now. You want to be independent. Good for you. But household chores and yard work haven’t been canceled. Still, if you’re set on this… Well… You’ll have your own responsibilities now, and you won’t have time for us. You’ll learn the hard way and grow up fast.
— I’m already grown up, Dad! — James corrected his father, irritated. — I’m twenty-eight years old. Do you really think I can’t live on my own?
— What’s there to talk about? — His father shrugged. — Grab your suitcase and, as they say, go with God. Build your life without your parents’ help.
— Mom, why aren’t you saying anything? — James looked at his mother again. — Don’t you have anything to say?
— What’s there for her to say? — his father answered for her. — Should she start pitying you again? Beg you to stay?
— Dad, — James said, growing nervous. — Why are you mocking me? I want to hear what Mom thinks about this.
— Sweetie, maybe you should eat something before you go? — his mother finally spoke.
— What? — James was taken aback, expecting entirely different words.
— I’m saying, eat something, James, — his mother smiled. — Want me to pack you a container with some porridge and meatballs for dinner?
— One meatball will do! — his father exclaimed. — Let him start cooking for himself. Or eat at a diner, like we did when we were young.
James looked at his parents in confusion, unable to understand why things weren’t going according to his plan.
— Why are you just standing there? — his father asked, sounding annoyed. — I can tell you’re going to drag this out. You’ll eat, then take a shower, and next thing you know, you’ll want a nap. Don’t get too comfortable if you’ve made up your mind.
— Right! — James marched decisively to the closet, where a large suitcase was supposed to be stored. — I’ll pack my things and go.
— No need to bother. The suitcase is already packed for you, — his father said.
— What? — James’s face stretched in surprise. — Packed? Why is it packed?
He quickly pulled the heavy suitcase from the closet, flipped open the lid, and stared at his parents in shock.
— How… How did you know I was… going to leave?
— What’s there to figure out? — His father gave him a mocking wink. — As soon as you threw a fit yesterday about not wanting to spend the weekend working in the garden, we knew—tomorrow our boy’s going to make a run for it.
— I didn’t throw a fit, — James grumbled. — I just said I don’t want to deal with your chores…
— Alright, alright, — his father interrupted. — So, it’s settled? As you can see, your suitcase is ready. Don’t worry, we packed everything you put in it last time. But I suggest you take a couple of extra handkerchiefs.
— Why would I need those? — James asked, annoyed.
— What are you going to wipe your tears with when you’re missing Mom’s meatballs? Your landlord’s towel? She’ll give you an earful.
— Come on, dear, don’t tease him, — his mother suddenly came to James’s defense. — Look, he’s already beside himself.
James’s eyes lit up with hope that his mother would now beg him to stay, but instead, she said something else entirely.
— Here’s what, James, I suggest you take a pot and a frying pan from home, just in case. So you have your own things…
— Mom! — James exclaimed in frustration. — Why would I need pots and pans? — Then he caught himself and put on a serious face. — So, you’re happy I’m leaving?
— We’re proud of you, son! — his father declared. — It takes guts to leave the family nest and start an independent life.
— And you’re not worried I might mess something up? Something you’ve always been afraid of?
— You’ll be responsible for your own actions now, — his father replied calmly. — You’re not living with us anymore.
— Wait! I haven’t even left yet!
— Are you saying you haven’t fully decided? — his father looked at him slyly.
— I’ve decided… sort of… — James said uncertainly, avoiding his father’s gaze.
— Well, then put the suitcase back in the closet, — his father said calmly. — Let it sit there until you’re absolutely sure.
— But I… — James started to say, but his father cut him off.
— But get ready! This weekend, you’ve got a shovel and half an acre of land waiting for you. As long as we’re living together, we share the joys, the sorrows, and the chores. Right, son?
James had no choice but to nod at his dad…
0 comments