THE FAMILY?

Family?

Tell Christopher to come at once! the daughter shrieked. All three of the little ones have a fever, theyre whining. I cant get them to the health centre by myself. He must drive over and help.

Margaret clutched her breath, though Emily could not see the panic in her eyes. Inside, a knot of dread tightened around the grandchildren.

Ill sort it out now, love. Dont worry, Margaret tried to speak calmly, hoping not to add to her daughters nerves. She hit the hangup button and froze. Her fingers fumbled for her sons number in the contacts. Three sick children, Emily alone, her husband stuck at work. It was dire.

Christopher would help, she was sure of it. The first ring sounded. The second. At last he answered.

Mum, hi, he said briskly.

Chris, dear, its a mess Margaret searched for the right words. Emily called. All three kids are ill, they need a doctor now. Her husband cant get time off. Could you drive over and take the nieces? It shouldnt take long.

A heavy silence fell. Margaret could hear her sons breathing and a distant clatter.

Love, today is Annas birthday. We booked a restaurant two weeks ago. We have to get to Emilys across the city, the traffics dreadful, we wont make the reservation. So I cant.

Margaret squeezed the phone tighter. Her palm was slick with sweat. Was her son really refusing?

Chris, can you hear me? The children are ill! Your nieces! Emily cant manage three fickle little ones on her own. They need a doctor right away!

My mum, I get it, Christopher replied flatly, emotionless. But we have plans. We cant cancel everything. Call a taxi. Or you and your husband can sort it out. Whats the problem?

Margaret sank into a chair, legs trembling. She could not believe what she heard.

Dads at work! she snapped, no longer holding back. I cant handle three sick kids by myself! Dont you understand the basics?

Im sorry, I cant, Christopher cut sharply. Its not my problem. The children are Emilys responsibility. Shell have to manage.

A wave of outrage crashed over Margaret.

How is that not your problem? Its your family! Your sister! Cant you help a relative just once?

I said I cant! Were about to leave, sorry, he hung up.

Sharp beeps buzzed in her ears. Margaret stared at the phone screen, numb. Her hands trembled. She dialed again. No answer. Silence.

Inside her chest a furnace roared. How could her own son behave so? She tried her daughterinlaw, Hannah.

Hello, Margaret? Hannah answered almost instantly.

Anne, dear, Margaret forced herself to sound calm. Why wont you ask Christopher to help? Theyre his nieces! Emily cant do it alone! You must understand, youre a woman.

Hannah sighed, her tone cool, almost indifferent.

Margaret, the parents are supposed to look after their kids. There are taxis, an ambulance. The children arent infants any more. Emily is an adult, shell manage.

Margaret froze. Hannahs words cut deeper than her sons refusal.

Do you even imagine trying to ferry three ill, squirming toddlers in a taxi? Margaret burst, unable to contain herself. Theyre tiny! Emily cant do it by herself!

Its her children, Margaret, Hannah replied with the same detached tone. We have our own evening plans. We dont want to ruin them because of other peoples woes.

Rage surged.

Then keep your future children to yourself and never ask for help! Margaret shouted, slamming the handset down.

The days that followed blurred like mist. Margaret stopped calling Christopher; he stayed silent. She tried not to think about the incident, but the sting lingered, a relentless ache.

At night she lay awake, replaying the cruel conversation. How could her son act so? Where had she failed as a mother? How had she raised such a cold-hearted man?

Her husband attempted to speak to her a few times, but Margaret brushed him off. She felt she had to sort it out alone, to understand what went wrong.

On the fourth evening her patience snapped. She decided to go to Christophers flat to speak facetoface, to look into his eyes and demand an answer.

Hannah opened the door, surprised for a moment, then stepped aside silently. Margaret entered without even taking off her coat.

Wheres Christopher? she demanded sharply.

In the sitting room, Hannah nodded toward the hallway.

Margaret pushed the door open. Christopher met her gaze. For a heartbeat something indistinguishable flickered in his eyes, then his face turned to an unreadable mask.

Mum? Whats happened? he raised an eyebrow.

How could you? Margarets cry was so loud Christopher flinched. All four days of hurt burst out.

How could you turn away from sick children? From your own sister? I didnt raise you selfish and heartless!

Christopher rose slowly, his expression calm, almost indifferent, which only fed Margarets fury.

Mum, you could have called a taxi yourself, he shrugged. Went to Emilys, helped with the kids. I cant drop everything the moment you ring.

He paused, looking straight into her eyes.

Did you forget how Emily stopped talking to us after we bought a flat? Shes been spouting nonsense ever since, he continued. Since we moved into our new house, shes avoided the phone, wont answer the door. Its been half a year, and now she suddenly needs help?

Margarets throat tightened. Words stuck. She opened her mouth, then shut it again.

Its its just that she stammered, searching for something. Emily lives in a rented flat with three kids.

We have our own twobedroom house, no children. Of course shes upset. What she says I dont know what she blabs about.

Christopher squinted. Hannah stood in the doorway, arms crossed, her face impassive.

She talks a lot. And about us, she says nasty things. The flat isnt her concern, Christopher said coldly.

We earned that flat ourselves, Hannah. Nobody helped us. Let Emily sort her own problems, not drag our family into it through you.

Margaret stepped closer, fists clenched.

What are you saying? she shouted again. Shes your sister! Family!

No, Mum, Christopher snapped, his tone rising. My family is Hannah. Emily should have thought ahead.

She chose to have three children! No one forced her! Im not obliged to drop everything the instant she calls for help!

Margarets face twisted.

Youre selfish! You only think of yourself! Your sister can barely manage the kids and you cant help even once!

Help? Christopher smirked. Why should I help someone whos ignored me for six months? We stopped speaking to Emily! How could you not see that?

He inhaled, then spoke softer.

What am I even talking about? he said, shaking his head. You only ever worry about Emily. Its always been that way. Im just an empty space for you.

Youre heartless! How can you say that? Margaret turned away sharply, unable to look at him any longer. I didnt raise you like this! I taught you to help each other!

She bolted from the flat, stopping on the stair landing, breathing hard. Inside everything seemed to blaze. How could her son speak to her that way?

The cold night air slapped her cheeks, but it didnt ease the breathlessness. She walked toward the bus stop, the same relentless thought looping: where had she gone wrong?

Why had she raised such a selfish man? Why didnt Christopher understand the simplest rulethat family helps each other?

Deep inside, in the corner of her mind shed long avoided, a knot of anxiety began to form around Christophers words about Emily. The fact that her sister had stopped communicating after buying a flat, the nasty gossip, the fact that he now had his own family. The thought that she had been blind to his own burdens gnawed at her.

She halted in the middle of the pavement. Pedestrians drifted past on both sides. What if Christopher was right? What if she herself was at fault, demanding too much from a son who had his own life?

No. Margaret shook her head sharply. She could not admit that. She was still a mother, she knew best what was right for children. She always had.

Yet doubt settled like a tiny, sharp stone in her gut, growing with each step toward her flat, swelling until it pressed against her ribs.

Margaret boarded a minibus, pressed her forehead to the window. Outside, houses, cars, ordinary life rolled by. Inside, something inside her cracked, something shifted forever.

She didnt know if she could ever repair it, if she could speak to her son again as before, if she could forgive his refusal, if he would ever forgive her blindness.

The minibus rattled over potholes. Margaret closed her eyes. Perhaps tomorrow would be clearer. Perhaps the right words would appear. Perhaps the family could become a family again.

Or perhaps it was already too late.