“Not His Problem”
“Tell William to come right away!” Her daughters voice trembled through the phone. “All three kids have a fever, and theyre impossible. I cant take them to the clinic alone. He needs to drive us!”
Margaret nodded, though Emily couldnt see it. Her chest tightened with worry for her grandchildren.
“Ill sort it, love. Dont panic,” Margaret said, keeping her voice steady to avoid upsetting her further.
She ended the call and froze. Her fingers fumbled for her sons number in her contacts. Three sick children, Emily alone, her husband at workthis was an emergency.
William would help. She was sure of it.
One ring. Two. Finally, he answered.
“Mum, hi,” he said briskly.
“Will, darling, its urgent” Margaret searched for the right words. “Emily just called. All three kids are ill, and she needs to get them to the doctor. Her husband cant leave work. Could you drive them? It shouldnt take long.”
Silence stretched on the other end. She could hear his breathing, faint background noise.
“Mum, I cant today,” William sighed. “Its Charlottes birthday. We booked this restaurant weeks ago. Emilys across town, and the traffics horrific. Well lose our reservation. So, noI cant.”
Margaret gripped the phone tighter. Her palm grew damp. Was he really refusing?
“William, listen! The children are sick. Your nieces and nephew! Emily cant manage alone!” She fought to keep her voice level.
“Mum, I get it, but weve got plans,” he said flatly. “Call a taxi. Or you and Dad help. Whats the issue?”
She sank onto a chair, legs weak. She couldnt believe what she was hearing.
“Dads at work! I cant handle three sick kids alone! How can you not understand?”
“I cant. Sorry,” he snapped. “Not my problem. Emily chose to have kids. She can deal with it.”
Margaret gasped. Had he really said that?
“How is it not your problem? Shes your sister! Family helps family!”
“I said no. Were leaving soon. Bye.” The line went dead.
The dial tone stung. She stared at the screen, numb. She called again. No answer. Again. Silence.
Something hot and sharp coiled inside her. How dare he? She dialled her daughter-in-law. Maybe Charlotte could talk sense into him.
“Hello, Margaret?” Charlotte answered quickly.
“Charlotte, sweetheart,” Margaret forced calm into her voice. “Cant you ask William to help? His nieces and nephew are ill! Emilys struggling!”
Charlotte sighed. Her tone was cool, indifferent.
“Margaret, parents handle their own children. Theres taxis, ambulances. Theyre not babies. Emilys a grown womanshell manage.”
Margaret went still. Those words burned worse than her sons refusal.
“Charlotte, imagine hauling three feverish toddlers in a taxi! She cant do it alone!”
“Her children, her responsibility,” Charlotte said. “We planned this evening ages ago. We wont ruin it over someone elses drama.”
Shock gave way to furyclean and scorching.
“Then dont come crying when you need help with your own kids!” Margaret shouted and slammed the phone down.
The next few days blurred. Margaret didnt call William. He didnt call her. She tried not to dwell on it, but resentment gnawed at her.
At night, she lay awake, replaying that wretched conversation. Where had she gone wrong raising him? How had he become so cold?
Her husband tried to talk about it, but she brushed him off. She needed to understand this herself.
By the fourth evening, she snapped. She drove to Williams flat. They needed to talk face to face.
Charlotte opened the door, surprise flickering before she stepped aside wordlessly. Margaret marched in, still wearing her coat.
“Wheres William?” she demanded.
“In there.” Charlotte nodded toward the bedroom.
Margaret flung the door open. William met her gaze. For a second, something flickered in his eyesthen vanished.
“Mum? Whats wrong?”
“How could you?” Her voice cracked. Everything shed bottled up burst out. “Your sister needed you! Those children needed you! I didnt raise you to be this selfish!”
William stood slowly, face unreadable. His calm infuriated her.
“You couldve called a taxi. Gone yourself,” he shrugged. “Im not dropping everything every time Emily snaps her fingers.”
He paused, locking eyes with her.
“Or have you forgotten how she cut us off? The things shes said?” His voice hardened. “Ever since we bought this flat. No calls, no visits, just nasty gossip. Six months of thisnow suddenly she needs me?”
Margaret faltered. Words stuck in her throat.
“Thatsthats not” She fumbled. “Shes renting with three kids! Youve got a mortgage, no childrenof course shes upset! I didnt know she wasnt speaking to youwhat gossip?”
William narrowed his eyes. Charlotte leaned in the doorway, arms crossed.
“Plenty. About me, about Charlotte. Our flats none of her business,” he said coldly. “We earned this ourselves. No handouts. Emily can solve her own problemsnot drag my family into it through you.”
Margaret stepped closer, fists clenched.
“What rubbish! Shes your sister! Family sticks together!”
“No, Mum.” His voice rose. “Charlottes my family. Emily shouldve thought before having three kids. Im not her on-call chauffeur.”
Margaret flinched.
“Youre heartless! Your sisters drowning, and you wont lift a finger!”
“Help her?” William laughed bitterly. “Why would I help someone whos ignored me for half a year? Were done with Emily. How didnt you notice?”
He took a breath, quieter now.
“But why would you? Its always been about Emily. I never mattered.”
“Youre cruel! How can you say that?” She turned away, unable to look at him. “I raised you better than this!”
She stormed out. On the landing, she stopped, gasping. The cold air outside burned her face, but it didnt help. As she walked, one thought pounded in her head: Where had she failed? Why didnt he understand family comes first?
But deep down, in a corner she avoided, something nagged at her. Williams words about Emilys silence. About her favouritism. About his own family.
She halted mid-step. Passersby skirted around her. What if he was right? What if shed demanded too much, blind to his side?
No. She shook her head sharply. She couldnt accept that. She was their mothershe knew what was best.
But the doubt had taken root, small and sharp, growing with every step.
On the bus, she stared blankly out the window. Life moved on outside. Inside, something had shattered.
Would they ever mend this? Would she forgive his refusal? Would he forgive her blindness?
The bus rattled over potholes. She closed her eyes. Maybe tomorrow would bring clarity. Maybe the right words would come. Maybe family would be family again.
Or maybe it was too late.
Family isnt just bloodits the choices we make every day. Neglect one thread, and the whole fabric unravels.
