My Family Refused To Be My Emergency Contact

Mom pointed at me. Her finger was trembling with anger.

“Why would you say something like that? It’s the holidays! Stop talking about death. You’re tempting fate, and you’re breaking my heart, do you know that?”

My pale lips curved into a bitter smile.

If only she cared about me half as much as she pretended to.

Dad looked annoyed too. “Of course we are worried. You were in a car accident. But what is this about you dying, just because we didn’t answer the phone? You’re standing right here, perfectly fine.”

I peeled off a blood-soaked bandage and tossed it into the trash can in front of them.

“Right. Perfectly fine. There’s not a scratch on me.”

That shut them both up.

Mom’s embarrassment quickly turned to anger.

“So, what exactly do you want from us? Do you want us to beg you for forgiveness?”

There it was again.

Every time I calmly pointed out something they had done wrong, Mom would turn it around on me and ask whether I was trying to corner her, whether I wanted her to grovel.

In the past, that was usually where I backed down and let it go.

However, right at that moment, I could not swallow it anymore.

“Mom, Dad, I just want to ask you one last question. When Nellie was filling out her forms for college, why were you both fighting over who got to be her primary emergency contact?

“Mom, you said Dad was careless and that you were more responsible, so it should be you. Dad, you said Mom was too slow and indecisive, so it should be you instead.

“I remember every word. Funny how your heart condition and high blood pressure weren’t an issue then. So, why is it suddenly such a problem when it comes to me?”

An awkward look crossed both their faces.

Mom immediately started trying to justify herself again.

“Nellie is at school. How much trouble could she possibly get into? Even if something did happen, there would be staff there to help us deal with it.

“You’re constantly traveling for work. If something happened to you, we wouldn’t even know where to start. Having us as your emergency contacts would probably just slow things down.

“Just put one of your coworkers down as your emergency contact.”

What a perfectly reasonable explanation.

I almost laughed out loud.

In fact, Mom, Dad, and Grandma were not the only ones who had me listed as their emergency contacts. Aunt Sonia and Aunt Judy did too.

They were both divorced with their children living far away. They lived alone.

Mom and Dad thought I was dependable, so they had happily recommended me.

When Aunt Judy had a stroke, I was the one who rushed over and called for medical help.

Aunt Sonia was in pretty good health, but she called me for every little thing, like when she could not get a payment to go through on her phone, when the TV would not turn on, or whenever something else stopped working.

If she could not reach me for ten or fifteen minutes, she would use the emergency alert.

Not once did I ever fail to respond, because I was afraid that she might truly be in urgent danger.

It was exhausting sometimes, but I never once asked any of them to take my number off their emergency contact list.

I could be there for my parents and everyone they cared about, yet when it came to me, my own parents could not even be bothered.

“All right, enough. Let’s just drop it.”

Mom reached for the gift bags I was carrying. “It’s Thanksgiving. Don’t ruin the mood by making such a big deal out of this. It’s family dinner tomorrow. What do you feel like eating? I’ll make whatever you like.”

Her tone had softened. I was too exhausted to keep arguing.

Forget it.

I was just about to answer, when Mom’s phone rang. It was the special ringtone she had set for my sister, Nellie Hamer.

Her face immediately lit up as she hurried to answer.

“Mom, I’m taking the train home tomorrow morning. But my best friend’s birthday happens to fall on Thanksgiving this year, so I’m going out to celebrate with her tomorrow night. I won’t be home for dinner.”

Mom laughed. “Of course, sweetheart. Have fun and be safe. Do you have enough money? I can send you some more.”

After they hung up, I started again. “I was thinking roast chicken, garlic mashed potatoes, maybe a…”

Mom cut me off. “Your sister isn’t even coming home. Why make such a big production out of dinner? You know how tired I am after work. We can just throw together some sandwiches or something.”

Something heavy lodged in my chest.

Apparently, I was not even worth a proper Thanksgiving dinner.

Were they really still my family?