Mom’s Fake Fairness: The Fixed Family Draw Chapter 08

Mom’s Fake Fairness: The Fixed Family Draw Chapter 08 A Little Game

I reached into my bag and pulled out a stack of documents I had prepared in advance.

“First, James signs a promissory note for the full amount, with interest at the standard bank rate. Second, if the house ever has any remaining value after the seizure, it gets notarized over to me as repayment security.

“Third, Lily signs a formal waiver giving up her inheritance rights to anything in this family, now and in the future. Fourth, this is a loan, not a gift. If James defaults, I will take him to court.”

This was a transaction, and I wasn’t running a charity.

James stared at the stack of papers and went pale. “This is extortion.”

“Sure,” I said. “You can walk away. And then we both watch Mom die in that room.” I started gathering the documents. “Doesn’t really affect me either way. I didn’t draw the slip.”

“Wait.” James grabbed the pen. “I’ll sign. I’ll sign.”

His hand was shaking so badly he could barely write, but he signed every page and pressed his thumbprint on each one. Lily signed too, crying the whole time. At that point, she just wanted out of the mess, even if it meant giving up everything.

I took the documents, walked to the billing window, and paid.

The light above the operating room door stayed on for hours. When it finally went off, the surgeon came out and told us the surgery was successful. Mom had made it.

But she had suffered a stroke during the procedure/Partial paralysis, left side. She would need full–time care for the rest of her life.

When she woke up and learned the whole picture, that the house was gone, that James was buried in debt. that the family had nothing left, her eyes rolled back and she nearly passed out again.

She lay in the hospital bed with her face pulled slightly to one side, a thin line of drool at the corner of her mouth. When her eyes found me, they were filled with equal parts fear and hatred.

I sat down beside her, peeled an apple, cut it into small pieces, and held one out on a toothpick.

“Here, Mom. Have some apple.”

I kept my voice light and even.

“You know, it’s funny how things turn out. You spent your whole life playing the angles, trying to make sure James got the best of everything.”

“And in the end, he gambled away the only thing you had. Now you need the daughter you never cared about to bail you out.” I paused. “If that’s not karma, I don’t know what is.”

Mom couldn’t speak. She just cried, tears running down the sides of her face into her hair.

I hired a private nurse at three hundred dollars a day, and then I turned to the rest of the family.

“We’ll do a daily lottery for the nurse’s fee. I’m sitting this one out, so it’s just Dad, James, and Lily. One draw a day. Whoever pulls the short straw pays. Fair is fair.”

James looked panicked. “I don’t have any money!”

“You owe me, remember?” I shrugged. “That’s your problem. Pick up some delivery shifts if you have to. Someone’s gotta take care of Mom.”

After that, the hospital room turned into a battleground every single day.

When James drew the short straw, he’d curse and storm off to shake Dad down for cash.

Dad never had any either, so he’d turn around and call James a disgrace.

When Lily drew it, she’d sob and carry on about how hard her life was. They fought, they pointed fingers, they threw each other under the bus without a second thought.

Every time I came to visit, I showed up looking polished and put–together, like a guest at a show I’d already seen the ending of. I watched them tear each other apart, and when I caught the despair in my mom’s eyes, I felt nothing but satisfaction.

This was the “fairness” you wanted. You’ve got it now.

After Mom was discharged, she moved back into the apartment since there was no money for a nursing facility.

We set up a rotating care schedule and I hired a substitute to cover my shifts. I showed up with nice things. Everyone else showed up in person.

James was useless at it. He’d shove food at her like he couldn’t wait to leave, and half the time he wouldn’t

other changing her.

Mom would lie there in soiled sheets for hours. All those years of pouring everything into that boy, and this was what she got for it.

I watched her eyes change every time he walked into the room, from hopeful to something closer to scared. She’d start trembling the moment she heard his voice.

Dad couldn’t handle the smell or the noise, so he started disappearing to the park every morning under the excuse of playing chess and wouldn’t come back until dark. He just left her there alone.

I’d stop by every now and then and bring her the good stuff, name–brand imported medications that actually worked. But I only ever bought one day’s worth at a time.

“Let’s play a little game, Mom,” I said one afternoon, and set a small cup of folded slips on her nightstand. “Every day, you draw one. Pull a good slip, you get your medication. Pull a bad one, you skip it for the day.”