Emily Baker was standing by the window of her flat, watching the October rain turn the evening into a blurry watercolor. Thirtyodd years old the age when youve stopped expecting miracles but still remember what theyre supposed to feel like. She worked for a consulting firm, earned a decent salary, and rented a spacious flat in a respectable part of Manchester. Life was predictable and calm.
Her phone buzzed on the kitchen counter. Moms number. Emily sighed, turned the TV down and answered.
Emily, love, are you home? her mothers voice sounded a bit panicked.
Yeah, Mum, Im here. Whats up?
Were coming over. Need to have a word with you.
A knot tightened in her stomach. Whenever Mum and Dad said they wanted to talk, it usually meant fresh trouble with Tom, her younger brother, who was 25 and seemed to collect problems like stamps.
About half an hour later they were sitting at her kitchen table. Dad stared at his hands, Mum fidgeted with the strap of her handbag.
Do you know whats happened with Tom? Mum started.
What about? Emily asked, already knowing it was better not to fill in the blanks herself.
Hes gotten himself into a mess. Remember we gave him the money from selling the cottage? He bought a motorbike
Mum, weve already talked about that. I warned him the cash should’ve stayed in a savings account, not gone straight to Tom.
He swore hed use it to rent a flat and marry Lena
Instead he blew it on nights out, Lena left him, and he bought the motorbike to heal a broken heart, Emily continued. Got it?
Dad finally looked up.
He crashed into a car in the car park. An expensive one a Porsche.
No insurance?
No, Mum replied quietly. You know he always thinks nothing will ever catch up with him.
Emily poured herself a mug of tea, trying not to show how annoyed she was. Tom always acted like he was untouchable because his parents always bailed him out.
How much are we talking about?
Three thousand pounds, Mum exhaled. The owner is okay with a payment plan, but we need to cough up half right away or hell send bailiffs.
Emily nodded. It all made sense. Now the fun part would begin.
Emily, honey, Mum reached for her hand, weve decided to sell your car.
My car?
Technically its still registered to Dad, she added hastily. We gave it to you when we sold the cottage. But Toms in trouble, and youd be walking everywhere. Youre still young, still healthy.
Emily gently let go of Mums hand.
Im not okay with that.
Sweetheart, this is family, Mum raised her voice. Tom is your brother! Hes suffering, cant sleep, has lost weight!
Mum, has he even looked for a job? Or at least gone to the job centre?
What job could he land in a week? Mum looked at her with a puzzled expression. He cant just start earning that much overnight!
And I could lose my car in a week?
Dad finally spoke, his voice low but firm.
Emily, weve already made the decision. Your opinion doesnt matter right now. The cars in my name, I can sell it whenever I want. I dont want to argue, but theres no other choice.
Emily stared at her father. Hed taught her to ride a bike, read her bedtime stories, bragged about her university achievements. Now he was calmly telling her her voice didnt count.
Dad, she said slowly, choosing her words, what happens next time Tom lands in trouble again?
There wont be a next time, Mum snapped back. He promised hed stop gambling, stop
Hes promised that five times already.
Emily, come on! Mum began to cry. Hes your brother! How can you be so harsh?
Emily walked over to the window. The rain was getting heavier. She thought back to six months ago when Tom asked her for money for something essential, and she handed over twenty pounds. He ended up spending it on new trainers and a night out with friends.
Listen, she turned to her parents, I have news. I transferred the car into my name a month ago.
Silence fell. Mum stopped crying, Dad finally lifted his eyes.
How?
It was simple. I had a power of attorney from Dad when we were sorting the cottage sale. I forged a deed of gift and reregistered the car to myself. I knew sooner or later it would have to be sold for Toms sake.
You you forged documents? Dad stared, stunned.
Yep. And you know what? I dont regret it. Im tired of always rescuing Tom from his own messes.
Mum clutched her chest.
Emily, how could you! Were family!
Thats exactly why I did it, Emily said, sliding back into her seat. Mum, Dad, you never help Tom. Youre turning him into a dependent. At twentyfive he cant solve a single problem on his own because he knows youll always step in.
But hell end up in prison! Mum shouted. Theyll lock him up!
He wont go to jail for debts. At worst theyll ban him from travelling abroad, which he never did anyway. Hell finally realise actions have consequences.
Dad stayed quiet, staring at the table. Emily could see him wrestling with himself.
Emily, he finally whispered, please, sell the car. Well buy you a new one later.
When later? When Tom gets into another scrape?
He wont.
He will, Dad. He cant live any other way. And you wont let him have any help.
Emily, honey, Mum said, gripping her hands, what are you doing? Hes your brother!
Thats why I wont give him any more cash. Look at him twentyfive, still living at home, not working, gambling the last of his money away. You dont see it, do you?
He just hasnt found himself yet, Mum muttered.
At his age he should be looking, or at least trying.
Their parents left, having achieved nothing. Emily stayed alone, nursing a cold cup of tea. The phone was silent obviously theyd gone to Tom to deliver the bad news.
An hour later Tom called.
Emily, are you serious? his voice trembled with anger. Do you know what youre doing?
I get it, Tom, she said, for the first time in ages I actually understand.
They might lock me up!
They wont. People dont go to prison over debt.
Emily, please! This guy is a serious creditor! Where am I supposed to get the money?
Where everyone gets money a job.
What kind of job? Who would hire me?
You can drive, you can talk to people. Youve got hands, a brain. Youll find something.
In a week?
Maybe. Or you could negotiate a longer payment plan with the car owner. Adults usually bend a bit if they see you actually trying.
Emily, his voice dropped, why are you so angry? This could happen to anyone.
Not to anyone. Only to someone who never learned how to drive properly and didnt even bother to get insurance!
He hung up.
The next months were rough. Mum and Dad hardly called. When Emily visited, the house was always heavy with unspoken tension. They never talked about Tom, but his absence hung in every conversation.
From the bits she caught, Emily knew Tom was genuinely looking for work. He tried courier gigs, then a warehouse job, then ended up at a local garage washing cars and handing tools. The pay was laughably low, but it was work.
Oddly enough, the owner of the battered Lexus turned out to be a decent bloke. When he learned Tom was actually employed, he agreed to a payment plan. Tom moved into a flat he shared with two other lads. Mum and Dad helped with the deposit but refused to hand over more cash Emily had made that clear.
Mom, if we give him money hell just quit the job, she told them during one of the rare visits. He needs to learn to stand on his own.
But hes so skinny, barely eating a bowl of porridge, Mum complained.
Hell find a better job, or a side hustle.
And indeed, after a few months Tom picked up a side gig dismantling old cars for parts on weekends. He discovered he had a knack for mechanics his hands were steady, his mind quick with the details.
Emily heard about it in fragments from her parents, who slowly started to thaw. Dad would sometimes, with a hint of pride, mention how Tom had fixed a neighbours car or helped a friend with wiring.
About a year after that kitchen showdown, there was a knock on Emilys door. She opened it to find Tom, looking a bit tanned, a small bouquet of chrysanthemums in his hand.
Hey, he said. Can I come in?
Emily stepped aside. Tom set the flowers on the table and sat in the same chair where dad had been a year before.
Chrysanthemums, Emily noted.
Thanks. He glanced at his hands now workscarred, callused, a little dirt under the nails. Im here to thank you.
For what?
For not giving you the money.
Emily curled a smile.
Tell me everything.
Ive started my own little garage in a garage box. Small, but its mine. I fix cars, sell parts, make a decent living. I even paid back that bloke I owed.
Congrats, she said.
You know, Tom looked up, I used to hate you. Thought you were greedy, cruel. I didnt get why you wouldnt help your own brother.
Now you see why?
Now I do. If youd handed over the cash, Id still be stuck at home, waiting for you all to sort me out. Instead I had to grow up.
Emily nodded.
Was it hard?
You have no idea, Tom answered honestly. The first months I thought about giving up, working for pennies, living with strangers, skimping on food But then I got into it. I love working with my hands, figuring out how things fit together.
Did your parents ever step in?
Mum now tells everyone my sons an entrepreneur. Tom laughed. Dad sometimes drops by the garage, helps out, says hes proud.
They sat in companionable silence, watching the rain outside. Tom looked older than his twentysix years, in a good way confident, steady.
Emily, he said finally, I dont think I deserve forgiveness. Ive been a burden for years
Tom, Emily cut in, you werent a burden, you were a spoiled kid. Different things.
Maybe. But Im not a kid anymore.
Exactly.
Tom stood and walked to the window, the same drizzly autumn day, only a year later.
The strangest thing, he said without turning, is that Im actually happier now. I earn more, I have responsibilities, but I feel happier. When you earn your own money, you spend it differently. When you solve your own problems, they dont feel impossible.
Right, Emily agreed. When youre in control, the world looks less scary.
And Ive met someone Katie, she works at a bank. Shes serious, grownup. Were thinking of moving in together.
Good for you.
Thanks. Emily, can I still pop over now and then? Just to chat. I miss you.
Of course.
They embraced, a solid, genuine hug like the ones you used to share as kids before cars, debts, and grudges got in the way.
By the way, Ive got a car now, Tom added, stepping back. I bought a beatup Toyota, fixed it up myself. Runs like new.
Youre a legend, Emily said.
Its thanks to you not letting me stay a kid forever.
After Tom left, Emily lingered at the kitchen table, looking at the chrysanthemums bright yellow, fluffy, with that crisp autumn scent. She thought about how love for family sometimes makes us hurt the ones we care about, how hard it is to say no when people beg, and how vital it is to set boundaries so people can learn to stand on their own.
Outside the rain kept falling, but now it felt cleansing rather than bleak, washing away old grudges and childhood fantasies, making room for something new, grownup, real.
Emily put the flowers in a vase, switched on the kettle. Tomorrow would be another day, but tonight she was simply grateful to have a brother a real, adult brother who could finally fix his own problems and hand over flowers.
