Karma's A Bitch, Mom

My mom handed me a glass of milk, and I had it halfway to my mouth when the comments scrolled past my eyes. [Don't drink it! One sip and you swap bodies with your cousin!

She takes your spot at Harvard, and you get sold off to a compound back in the hills!] I froze for a second. Swap bodies? Where do I sign.

I looked over at the bed, at my grandma, at the half of her body the stroke had taken. My eyes burned. She could live. So let Amber take her place.

Let Amber rot in that bed for the rest of her life. Chapter 1 The comments kept coming and I couldn't move. My eyes went back to the milk. Still steaming.

Line after line scrolled up: [This mom is genuinely unhinged. I've seen favoritism.

I have never seen a woman torch her own daughter's future for an outsider.] [Don't drink it, our girl! Knock it over! Pretend your hand slipped!] [It won't help.

Even if the swap fails, they were never going to let her go to college.] [Grandma is her weak spot.

For Grandma, our girl will do anything.] [Amber has retaken the SATs three times and still scored a 610.

You get a 400 just for spelling your name right.] I read that last one twice. My mouth twitched. It never got as far as a laugh. Because every word of it was true.

My cousin, Amber Prewitt. Three years of retakes. A 610 this spring. Mom said I'd jinxed her scores.

She tore up my acceptance letter and told me I'd be sitting through another year of test prep right alongside Amber. I said no.

Then I said it again, on camera, to a woman from the local news. The story blew up online, and Mom backed off. Publicly. I thought I'd won. Turns out they had one more move.

A body swap. Okay. Now it was interesting. I still hadn't moved, so Mom pushed the glass another inch toward me. Her voice had an edge under it. "Wren Keller.

What are you standing there for? Drink it." I took it. Warm. Not hot. Just right. She watched me without blinking. Her mouth was a flat line. That was when the smell hit.

Thick enough to close your throat. "Ah… ah…" Grandma, flat on her back in the bed. The pad under her had gone dark in a wide circle, and the circle was still spreading.

Mom clapped a hand over her nose and stepped back. She didn't bother hiding her face. "You useless old bag. It reeks in here.

You couldn't say something first?" My fingers tightened on the glass. I said nothing. The smell rolled up again. Thicker. Mom was done. "Finish that and clean her up.

Or I'm putting her out on the curb." She turned and walked out. The door slammed hard enough to rattle the frame. Then it was me and Grandma. And the milk.

The smell hadn't gone anywhere. I'd stopped noticing it a long time ago. Grandma turned her head toward me. It cost her everything she had.

Her throat worked. "Don't… don't…" I looked at the glass in my hand. Then back up at her. There was nothing left of her but bone. Moving one finger wore her out.

The comments scrolled. [I'm sobbing. Our girl is so small. I can't watch this.] Chapter 2 [After the swap, Grandma was the first one to recognize her.

But Grandma had already had the stroke. She couldn't get a word out. All she could do was lie there and stare.] [Our girl came apart after that.

They sold her to a compound back in the hills. They took their time with her. She did not die well.] [And nobody came for Grandma.

She starved to death in that bed.] That last line went in like a splinter. My eyes filled. I locked my jaw and didn't let a single one fall. Grandma started thrashing.

Her eyes went huge. "No… no…" She was trying to sit up. She fought for it. All she managed was a small rock of her shoulders.

I set the glass down, got my arms under her, and lifted her against me. She weighed nothing. An armful of empty bones, and the sharp ones dug into my shoulder until it ached.

I put my mouth close to her ear and kept my voice under my breath. "Grandma. Do you want to trade bodies with Amber?" She went still.

Then the tears came, sliding down along the creases at the corners of her eyes. One. Then another. They landed on the back of my hand, and the heat of them made me flinch.

The comments kept coming. [Our girl is so smart. Give the milk to Grandma and Grandma gets to live.] [Honestly?

Amber is the reason Grandma ended up like this.] [She didn't want our girl going to college, so she stole the tuition money Grandma had saved for her.

Then she said Grandma lost it herself.] [Grandma was frantic.

She blamed herself so hard she came apart, and the stroke hit her right there on the floor.] [If Grandma were still healthy, at least somebody would love our girl.] Grandma's lips moved.

Once, twice, again. Her throat finally pushed one blurred syllable out. "Yes…" I picked up the glass and brought it carefully to her mouth.

She opened her mouth for it without a fight. Swallow by swallow. She didn't leave a drop. I set the empty glass back on the nightstand.

Then I pulled the sheet down and cleaned her up, quick, the way I'd done a hundred times. Grandma was the only person left in the world who loved me.

On my seventh birthday, my dad rode his bike out to pick up my cake and never came back. A truck ran the light. He was gone before anyone got to him.

My mother hated me from that day on. She said I killed him. That if I hadn't whined about wanting a birthday cake, he'd never have left the house. Then she took Amber in.

And handed Amber every ounce of mothering she had. Whatever Amber wanted, Amber got. Three years of test prep, and Mom never blinked at the bills.

I had to skim my lunch money to buy one SAT prep book. Without Grandma I'd have been dead a long time ago. An old woman on nine hundred dollars a month in Social Security.

She put me through every grade from first grade to my senior year on that. The day scores came out, I had a 1560. Grandma was happier than I was.

Her hands shook as she dug an old cloth pouch out from under her pillow. The corners of it were worn to fuzz.

She peeled it open, one fold at a time, her eyes bright as a kid's. "Wrennie. Grandma saved enough. You're going to college." It was empty. She turned the pouch over and shook it.

Turned it back and shook it again. She went through every corner of that room.

In the end she sat down on the floor and couldn't get up, saying it over and over: Chapter 3 "How can it be gone?

It was right there… it was right there under the pillow…" I got down on my knees and took her shaking hands. "It's okay, Grandma. I'll talk to the school about a full ride.

My scores are good enough." Amber was leaning in the doorway, enjoying it. "Serves you right. Nobody told you to keep it out of the bank. Now look at you.

Your precious granddaughter's not going to college." Grandma went frantic. Then furious. Then her eyes rolled back and she went down on the floorboards without putting a hand out.

When she opened them again, one whole side of her didn't work anymore. The doctor said we were lucky she was breathing. I'd been planning to take her to Boston with me.

I'd looked all of it up. Good hospitals. A rehab center. Specialists who took cases like hers. The two of us out of this house together.

I'd go to class, she'd get treatment, and things would finally get better. Then the comments told me neither of us would live that long.

I'd be sold off to a compound back in the hills. They'd break me there. Grandma would stay in that bed until she starved. I looked down at the woman in my arms.

I wiped the milk off the corner of her mouth. Then I smeared it across my own. Grandma. We're both getting out of this alive. The door opened again. Mom was standing in it.

Her eyes went to the milk at the corner of my mouth, and something behind them tightened. "You finished it?" I licked my lips and made a small, satisfied sound. "That milk was really good, Mom.

Is there any more?" Her mouth pulled sideways. She rolled her eyes. "There's none left. That was for Amber.

She's still growing." "Okay," I said, and dropped my head like a good girl. Inside I was laughing. Amber was four years older than me and built like she could throw a hay bale.

I was five foot three and under ninety pounds. Which one of us was still growing? Mom didn't look at me again.

She glanced at the bed and her face curdled. "The old bag went in the sheets again. Fine. She doesn't eat tomorrow.

Save us all the groceries she's wasting." The comments turned on her. [Can somebody do something about this mother.

My blood pressure just hit 180.] [If Grandma didn't have that Social Security check she'd already be dead. Grandma's too dirty for her?

Then stop spending Grandma's money.] [Hang on, girls. What goes around comes around, and hers is almost here.] Mom picked up the empty glass and left.

I tracked her the whole way without turning my head. Down the hall. Around the corner. Amber's door. I followed her without making a sound. Amber was sitting on the edge of her bed.

There was a second glass of milk on her desk, still full. She came off that bed the second Mom walked in. "Aunt Doreen. Did she drink it?" Mom nodded. "Yes.

I can go to Harvard." Amber's whole face lit up. She grabbed her own glass and lifted it. Mom's hand came up and stopped her. Something moved across her face.

Amber blinked. "Aunt Doreen?" Mom looked down. Her voice dropped. "I don't know if this is right… She is my daughter." My breath came out slower than it went in.

Something ugly crossed Amber's face. She put it away fast. Chapter 4 "Aunt Doreen. Her scores are that good, so one more year won't kill her. I've already done three.

If I sit through another one I'll be too old and nobody's going to want me." Her eyes went red while she talked. She started wiping at them. "You promised my dad.

When he was dying, you promised him you'd take care of me. So what's wrong with me being your real daughter?" It was working. I could see it working.

Mom was quiet for a few seconds. She pressed her lips together. "And this stuff. Any side effects on you?

What if she flips back later?" Amber wiped her face and straightened her spine. "Relax, Aunt Doreen. Once it takes, it's done.

Not even dying puts it back. "She's Amber Prewitt for the rest of her life. And I'm Wren Keller." That did it. Mom nodded. Whatever had been holding her back went out of her face.

She stroked Amber's hair. Her voice came out soft in a way I had never heard it. "Good girl.

From now on you're my own daughter." Amber picked up the glass, tipped her head back, and drained it. I pulled back from the door and went along the wall to Grandma's room.

I couldn't get my mouth to stay flat. Good. Once it takes. It never comes back. That night Mom told me Amber had been having nightmares and couldn't sleep.

I'd be sleeping in her room. The comments floated past. [Amber's scared something goes wrong overnight. She wants her where she can see her.] [Funny.

Our girl wants the exact same thing. The feeling's mutual.] [I am already thinking about Amber's face when she opens her eyes.

Hurry up hurry up hurry up.] I bent down and tucked the blanket in around Grandma.

She was already asleep, and the corner of her mouth was turned up, like whatever she was dreaming was a good one. "Go on.

What are you dragging your feet for?" Mom, in the doorway again. Amber was already in bed when I came in. Her shoulders came down the second she saw me. "Come on.

Right here." She patted the mattress next to her. I took my shoes off and lay down. Her bed was so much softer than mine. You lay down and it just took you in.

We left half an arm's length between us. Neither of us closed it. She didn't say anything else. She shut her eyes and was out fast. Every so often she rolled over.

She talked in her sleep, too. Harvard, here I come. I'm number one. All of it mushy and half swallowed. I lay flat on my back with my eyes on the ceiling. It was a long night.

I didn't let myself close them. Not once. Then the window started to go gray. Amber's eyelashes moved