Just Like Mama Made It 

“I made it just like mama made it,” I said softly to Mary.  I slid the plate in front of her and prayed she would eat.  I wasn’t sure she had eaten anything in the last forty-eight hours.  I packed away as I watched her had reach toward her fork and I paused as her hand paused. 

Mary was suffering more than anyone in our family.  Our mother had recently succumbed to lung cancer and Mary had been a major part of her recovering and then also her downgrade.  Of her decline into sickness and ultimately death.  I was, unfortunately, very skeptical of Mary’s intentions.  It was a right reserved for all of my sisters-in-law.  Mary had married my older brother, I think based on the fact he was a lawyer and could provide the inheritance the thought she deserved. 

My brother had been spiteful and because of this attribute, she and Mary had gotten along well.  All along, the two of them had put their small brains together and tried to screw everyone else over.  Whether we were family or not. 

What Mary didn’t realize was that we were all ganging up on her.  She needed to be responsible for all the shit she gave out.  Now.