**Not His Problem**
Tell Oliver to come right now! Emily sobbed down the phone. All three kids are feverish and impossible. I cant get them to the doctor alonehe needs to drive us!
Brenda nodded, though Emily couldnt see it. Her chest tightened with worry for her grandchildren.
Ill sort it, love. Dont panic, Brenda kept her voice steady, fighting the urge to match her daughters panic.
She hung up and stared at her phone, fingers fumbling for Olivers number. Three sick children, Emily alone, her husband stuck at work. A proper nightmare.
Oliver would helpshe was sure of it
One ring. Two. Finally, he answered.
Mum, hi, he said briskly.
Ollie, darling, theres a bit of a crisis Brenda chose her words carefully. Emily just called. The kids are poorly, need to see a doctor. Her husband cant leave work. Could you pop over and take them? Shouldnt take long.
Silence. She could hear him breathing, the faint hum of chatter in the background.
Mum, I cant today, Oliver sighed. Its Charlottes birthday. We booked this restaurant two weeks ago. Emilys clear across town, and the traffics horrendous. Well miss the reservation. So no.
Brenda gripped the phone tighter. Her palm was clammy. He couldnt be serious.
Oliver, listen! The children are ill. Your nieces and nephew! Emily cant manage three grumpy toddlers alonethey need a doctor!
Mum, I get it, he said flatly. But weve got plans. She can call a taxi. Or you and Dad could help. Whats the issue?
Brenda sank onto a chair, legs wobbling. She couldnt believe her ears.
Dads at work! I cant wrangle three sick kids alone! Are you being thick on purpose?
I cant. Sorry, Oliver snapped. Not my problem. Charlotte and I didnt sign up for Emilys kids.
Brenda choked on indignation. Did he actually just say that?
How is it not your problem?! Shes your sister! Cant you help family just once?!
I said no. Were leaving soonbye. The line went dead.
The dial tone buzzed in her ear. Brenda stared at the screen, numb. She tried calling again. Nothing. Again. Silence.
Something hot and furious boiled inside her. How dare he? She dialled Charlotte instead. Maybe shed talk sense into him.
Brenda? Charlotte answered, sounding mildly surprised.
Charlotte, love, Brenda forced calm into her voice. Could you ask Oliver to help? His nieces and nephew are ill! Emilys struggling! Youre a mothersurely you understand?
Charlotte sighed. Her tone was cool, detached.
Brenda, sick children are their parents responsibility. Theres taxis, the NHS. Theyre not babies. Emilys a grown womanshell cope.
Brenda froze. That stung worse than Olivers refusal.
Charlotte, have you ever tried bundling three feverish toddlers into a taxi?! Emily cant do it alone!
Her kids, Brenda, Charlotte said indifferently. We planned this night ages ago. Not ruining it over someone elses drama.
Shock gave way to white-hot rage.
Fine! Dont come crying when youve got your own! Brenda slammed the phone down.
The next few days passed in a blur. Brenda didnt call Oliver. He didnt call her. She tried not to dwell on it, but the anger gnawed at her, relentless.
Nights were worst. Lying awake, she replayed that cursed conversation. How could her son be so heartless? Where had she gone wrong?
Her husband tried to talk about it, but Brenda brushed him off. She needed to figure it out herself.
By day four, she cracked. Brenda marched to Olivers flat. Theyd talk properly, face to face.
Charlotte opened the door, eyebrows lifting, but she stepped aside without a word. Brenda stormed in, still in her coat.
Wheres Oliver?
In there. Charlotte nodded toward the bedroom.
Brenda shoved the door open. Oliver looked upjust for a second, she saw something flicker in his eyes. Then nothing.
Mum? Whats wrong?
How could you?! Brendas shout made him flinch. Four days of fury spilled out. How could you abandon your sister like that?! I didnt raise you to be selfish!
Oliver stood slowly, face unreadable. The calm only made her angrier.
Mum, you couldve called a taxi. Gone yourself. Im not dropping everything every time Emily panics. He paused, meeting her glare. Or did you forget she ghosted us? The rubbish shes been spreading?
Brenda faltered. What rubbish?
Oliver scoffed. Ever since we bought this flat. Suddenly were the villains. Six months of her ignoring us, then she wants favours?
Brendas mouth opened, then shut.
Shes struggling with three kids in a rented place! Youve got a flat, no childrenof course shes bitter! But I didnt know she wasnt speaking to you
Oliver crossed his arms. Charlotte hovered in the doorway, expressionless.
Oh, shes been chatting. About me, about Charlotte. But our flats none of her business. We earned this. No handouts. Her problems arent ours.
Brenda stepped closer, fists clenched.
Thats vile! Shes your sister! Family!
No, Mum. Olivers voice rose. Charlottes my family. Emily chose to have three kids. Not my circus.
Brenda recoiled. Youre heartless!
Heartless? Oliver laughed bitterly. Why should I help someone whos spent months slagging us off? You didnt even notice we werent talkingtoo busy fussing over Emily.
Brenda spun on her heel. She couldnt look at him.
I raised you better than this!
Did you? Olivers voice followed her. Or did you just raise us to cater to Emily?
Brenda fled. On the pavement, cold air stung her face. Her thoughts churned. Had she failed? Was Oliver right?
The doubt crept in, sharp and stubborn. Maybe shed demanded too much. Maybe shed missed the signs.
No. She shook her head violently. She was their mother. She knew best.
But the doubt grew.
On the bus home, she stared blankly out the window. Maybe tomorrow would bring clarity. Maybe theyd find the right words.
Or maybe it was too late.
