“Not His Problem”
“Tell Jeremy to come over right now!” Emily gasped between sobs. “All three kids are running fevers and throwing tantrums. I cant take them to the clinic alonehe needs to drive us!”
Margaret nodded, though Emily couldnt see it. Her chest tightened with worry for her grandchildren.
“Dont fret, love, Ill sort it,” Margaret said, keeping her voice steady to avoid upsetting her daughter further.
She ended the call and froze for a second, fingers trembling as she scrolled for Jeremys number. Three sick children, Emily alone, her husband at workthis was an emergency.
Jeremy would help. She was sure of it.
First ring. Second. Finally, he answered.
“Mum, hi,” he said briskly.
“Jeremy, darling, its a bit of a mess,” Margaret began carefully. “Emily just called. All three little ones are poorlythey need to see the doctor. Her husband cant leave work. Could you pop over and give her a lift? It shouldnt take long.”
Silence. She could hear him breathing, some faint background noiselaughter, maybe.
“Mum, todays really not good,” Jeremy sighed. “Its Sarahs birthday. We booked this restaurant weeks ago. Emilys clear across London, and the traffics horrendous. Wed miss the reservation. So no can do.”
Margaret gripped the phone tighter. Was he seriously refusing?
“Jeremy, listen to yourself! The children are ill! Your nieces and nephew!” She fought to keep her voice level. “Emily cant manage three poorly toddlers alone! They need a doctor!”
“Mum, I get it, but weve got plans,” he said flatly. “She can call a cab. Or you and Dad help. Whats the issue?”
She sank onto a chair, legs wobbling. She couldnt believe what she was hearing.
“Your fathers at work!” she snapped. “I cant wrangle three sick kids alone! How hard is this to understand?”
“Not my problem, Mum,” Jeremy cut in sharply. “Emily chose to have kids. She can handle it.”
Margarets breath hitched. Did he really just say that?
“How is it not your problem?!” she exploded. “Shes your sister! Your family! You cant step up just once?”
“I said no. Weve got to go. Sorry.” The line went dead.
The dial tone buzzed like an accusation. She stared at her phone, hands shaking, then redialled. Nothing. Again. Silence.
Something hot and furious coiled inside her. How dare he? She called Sarah nextmaybe his wife would talk sense into him.
“Margaret?” Sarah answered, polite but detached.
“Sarah, love, cant you ask Jeremy to help? These are his nieces and nephew! Emilys drowning!” Margaret forced calm into her voice. “Youre a motheryou understand!”
Sarah sighed. “Margaret, parents handle their own children. Theres cabs, theres the NHS. Emilys a grown woman. Shell cope.”
The words stung worse than Jeremys refusal.
“Sarah, have you ever tried bundling three feverish toddlers into a cab?!” Margarets restraint snapped. “She cant do this alone!”
“Her kids, her responsibility,” Sarah said coolly. “We planned our evening ages ago. Were not cancelling over someone elses drama.”
Shock gave way to white-hot rage.
“Then dont come crying to us when youve got kids of your own!” Margaret barked, slamming the phone down.
The next few days blurred. She didnt call Jeremy. He didnt call her. The anger festered, gnawing at her even as she tossed and turned at night, replaying that wretched conversation. Where had she gone wrong raising him? How had he turned out so selfish?
Her husband tried to talk about it, but she brushed him off. She needed to figure this out herselfunderstand how it had all unraveled.
By day four, she cracked. She marched to Jeremys flat, ready to confront him face-to-face.
Sarah opened the door, eyebrows lifting, but stepped aside wordlessly. Margaret stormed in, still in her coat.
“Wheres Jeremy?”
“In there,” Sarah nodded toward the bedroom.
Margaret flung the door open. Jeremy looked up, something flickering in his eyesguilt?before his face went blank.
“Mum? Whats wrong?”
“How could you?!” she shouted, making him flinch. Four days of fury poured out. “You abandoned Emily! Your own sister! I didnt raise you to be this heartless!”
Jeremy stood slowly, calm as ice. “Mum, you couldve called a cab. Gone yourself. Im not dropping everything every time Emily snaps her fingers.”
He paused, meeting her glare.
“Or did you forget how shes ignored us for months? The rubbish shes been saying?” he continued. “Ever since we bought this flat. No calls, snubbing us in public. Six months of this, and now suddenly she needs a favour?”
Margaret faltered. “Thats… shes struggling with three kids in a rental! You and Sarah have a two-bed with no childrenof course shes upset! But I didnt know she wasnt speaking to you… Whats she been saying?”
Jeremys eyes narrowed. Sarah leaned in the doorway, arms crossed.
“Plenty. Nasty stuff about Sarah, for starters,” Jeremy said coldly. “Our flats none of her business. We earned this. No handouts. Emilys problems are hers to fixnot drag my family into through you.”
Margarets fists clenched. “What rubbish! Shes your sister! Your blood!”
“No, Mum,” Jeremys voice rose. “Sarahs my family. Emily chose to have three kids. Thats on her. Im not her errand boy.”
Margaret recoiled. “Youre selfish! Your sisters barely keeping her head above water, and you wont lift a finger!”
“Help her?” Jeremy scoffed. “Why would I help someone whos spent months badmouthing us? Were done with Emily. Howve you not noticed?”
He exhaled sharply. “But why would you? Its always been about Emily. Im an afterthought.”
“Youre heartless!” She whirled around, unable to look at him. “I raised you better than this!”
She fled the flat, lungs burning. The cold air outside didnt help. As she stomped toward the bus stop, one thought looped: Where had she failed? Why couldnt he see that family helps family?
But somewhere deeper, unease stirred. Jeremys words about Emilys silence. About her gossip. About his own family. About being overlooked.
She halted mid-step, pedestrians swerving around her. What if he was right? What if shed pushed too hard, blind to his side?
No. She shook her head fiercely. She was the mother. She knew best.
Yet the doubt clung, sharp and persistent.
On the bus, she stared blankly out the window. Life rolled on outside, but inside, something had shattered. The phone rang three times before Emily picked up. “Mum?” she said, voice thin. “Are you okay?”
Margaret closed her eyes. “I spoke to Jeremy,” she said quietly. “I went to his flat.”
A pause. Then, softly: “Oh.”
“I didnt know he felt so shut out,” Margaret admitted. “I didnt know you hadnt spoken in months.”
Emily sighed, the sound heavy with exhaustion. “He and Sarah act like were all after their money. Like wanting help makes us greedy. I stopped calling because every time I did, it turned into a fight.”
Margaret swallowed. “And the things he said you said about Sarah?”
“I mightve complained,” Emily whispered. “When I was desperate. When no one answered. I didnt mean half of it.”
The bus rattled onward, rain streaking the glass. Margaret looked at her reflectiontired eyes, pressed lips, a woman who thought love meant showing up, no matter what.
“I tried to make him see,” she said. “But maybe I didnt listen either.”
Emily was silent for a long moment. “Hes not coming, is he?”
“No,” Margaret said. “Hes not.”
Another silence. Then, faintly, a tearful laugh. “Well. Well manage. We always do.”
Margaret nodded, though no one saw. “Yes,” she said. “We will.”
But as the city blurred past, she wondered how many times theyd have to keep proving that, and at what cost.
