Not His Problem
Tell Christopher to come right away! Emilys voice trembled with urgency. All the children are feverish and cranky. I cant get them to the clinic alonehe needs to drive us!
Margaret nodded, though Emily couldnt see it. Her chest tightened with worry for her grandchildren.
Ill sort it, love. Dont fret, Margaret soothed, keeping her tone steady to avoid upsetting her daughter further.
She ended the call and froze. Her fingers fumbled through her contacts for her sons number. Three sick children, Emily alone, her husband at workthis was dire.
Christopher would help. She was sure of it.
One ring. Two. Finally, he answered.
Mum, hi, he said briskly.
Chris, love, its an emergency Margaret searched for the right words. Emily just rang. The children are illthey need to see a doctor. Her husband cant leave work. Could you drive them? It wont take long.
Silence stretched on the other end. She could hear his breath and faint background noise.
Mum, I cant today, Christopher sighed. Its Annas birthday. We booked the restaurant weeks ago. Getting to Emilys across town in this traffic? Wed miss the reservation. So no.
Margaret clenched the phone. Her palm was damp. Was he really refusing?
Christopher, are you listening? The children are sick! Your nieces and nephew! Emily cant manage three poorly toddlers alonethey need a doctor now!
I get it, Mum, he said flatly. But weve got plans. She can call a taxi. Or you and Dad could help. Whats the issue?
She sank onto a chair, her legs weak. She couldnt believe what she was hearing.
Dads at work! I cant handle three sick children alone! How cant you see that?
I said I cant. Sorry. His tone sharpened. Not my problem. The kids are Emilys responsibility.
Margaret gasped. How could he say that?
Not your problem? Theyre your family! Your sister! Cant you help just once?
Ive told youI cant. Weve got to go. The line went dead.
The dial tone stung her ears. She stared at the phone, numb. She called again. No answer. Once more. Silence.
Something hot and furious boiled inside her. How dare he? She dialed her daughter-in-law. Maybe Anna would talk sense into him.
Hello, Margaret? Anna answered quickly.
Anna, sweetheart, Margaret forced calm into her voice. Could you ask Christopher to help? These are his nieces and nephewtheyre ill! Emilys struggling! You understand, dont you?
Anna sighed. Her voice was cool, indifferent.
Margaret, parents handle their own childrens problems. Theres Uber, hospital transport. Theyre not infants. Emilys a grown womanshell cope.
Margaret stiffened. Annas words burned worse than her sons refusal.
Anna, do you have any idea how hard it is to take three sick toddlers in a taxi? She cant do it alone!
Theyre her children, Margaret, Anna said impassively. We planned our evening weeks ago. We wont ruin it over someone elses issues.
Shock gave way to white-hot rage.
Then dont come crying to us when you have your own kids! Margaret snapped, slamming the phone down.
The next days passed in a blur. Margaret didnt call Christopher. He didnt call her. She tried not to dwell on it, but resentment gnawed at her, restless and raw.
At night, she lay awake. That wretched conversation played on loop. How could her son be so heartless? Where had she gone wrong?
Her husband tried to talk about it, but she brushed him off. She needed to make sense of it alone.
By the fourth evening, shed had enough. She went to Christophers flat. They needed to talk face-to-face.
Anna opened the door, surprised but wordlessly stepping aside. Margaret marched in, still in her coat.
Wheres Christopher? she demanded.
In the lounge, Anna gestured.
Margaret pushed the door open. Christopher met her gazeand for a second, something flickered in his eyes. Then his face went blank.
Mum? Whats wrong?
How could you? Margarets voice cracked. Everything shed bottled up burst free. How could you refuse your sick nieces and nephew? Your sister? I didnt raise you to be this selfish!
Christopher stood slowly. His calmness enraged her further.
Mum, you couldve called a taxi. Gone yourself. Im not dropping everything whenever Emily snaps her fingers. He paused, locking eyes with her.
Or have you forgotten how she cut us off? His voice hardened. After we bought this flat. No calls, no visitssix months of this. And now suddenly she needs help?
Margaret faltered. Words stuck in her throat.
Sheshes struggling with three kids in a rented place! Youve got a home, no childrenof course shes hurt! I didnt know she wasnt speaking to you Whats she been saying?
Christopher narrowed his eyes. Anna leaned in the doorway, arms crossed.
Plenty. Bad-mouthing Anna, me. But the flats none of her business, he said coldly. We earned this ourselves. No handouts. Her problems are hers to fixnot drag my family into.
Margaret stepped closer, fists clenched.
What nonsense! Shes your sister! Your family!
No, Mum. His voice rose. Annas my family. Emily shouldve thought before having three kids. Im not her on-call driver.
Margaret flinched.
Youre selfish! Your sisters drowning, and youre too busy to help once?
Help? Christopher scoffed. Why should I help someone whos ignored me for half a year? Were done with Emily. How havent you noticed?
He exhaled sharply, quieter now.
But why would you? Youve always put Emily first. I dont matter.
You heartless boy! How can you say that? Margaret spun away. She couldnt look at him. I raised you to stand by family!
She stormed out. On the landing, she stopped, breath ragged. Her whole body burned. How could he speak to her like that?
Cold air hit her face outside, but it didnt help. As she walked to the bus stop, one thought pounded in her head: Where had she failed? Why didnt he understand family comes first?
But deep down, something uneasy stirred. His words about Emily. About her cutting ties after the flat. About his own family. About being overlooked.
Margaret halted on the pavement. Passersby swerved around her. What if he was right? What if shed demanded too much, blind to his own life?
No. She shook her head sharply. She couldnt accept that. She was their mothershe knew best.
Yet the doubt dug deeper, growing with every step.
On the bus, she stared blankly out the window. Life moved on outside. But inside, something had fractured.
Would they ever fix this? Could she forgive him? Could he forgive her blindness?
The bus jolted over potholes. Margaret closed her eyes. Maybe tomorrow would bring clarity. Maybe the right words would come. Maybe the family would mend.
Or maybe it was already too late.
