When Emily’s sister-in-law planned an elaborate potluck, she felt nothing but dread at the things Jessica insisted she bring. Trying to keep her budget in mind, Emily made a casserole, but Jessica dismissed it and her. Only when karma stepped in did Jessica have no choice but to eat humble pie.
I never imagined that a family potluck would turn into such a dramatic affair. I had always had a strained relationship with my sister-in-law, Jessica.
Despite how hard I tried to make things work with her, she just had a knack for making me feel small, always flaunting her luxurious lifestyle and expensive tastes. It didn’t help that my husband, Mark, and I had been struggling financially for the past year after he lost his job.
“I can’t make any apologies for my sister,” Mark said one day when I was complaining about something Jessica said. “I know how frustrated you get, and I wish I could help make it better.”
“No, I know,” I said. “I don’t want you to do anything and strain your relationship with the family. I’ll just ignore her as much as I can.”
When Mark lost his job, it was because the company wanted younger blood.
“I don’t understand why Steven would want younger people with basically no experience to come in and take over,” Mark said, talking about his boss.
The burden was crushing on our lifestyle. We had no choice but to cut back on everything just to make ends meet. I was working two part-time jobs, and Mark was picking up any odd jobs he could find. Recently, he was working with a mechanic, learning more about the trade as he went.
Our evenings were spent poring over bills and bank statements, trying to stretch our budget as much as we could.
“I’m so sorry, Emily,” my husband told me. “We’re going to get through this. I promise you. I’m still doing everything I can to get back into the financial industry.”
“I know,” I told him, squeezing his hand. “I know that we just need a lucky break, and we’ll get it soon.”
I believed my own words, but the weight of it all was relentless, pressing down on us constantly. Naturally, it had to get worse before it got remotely better.
“Hi Emily,” Jessica said on the phone, her words dragging as she spoke.
“Jess, hi,” I said, instantly regretting answering the phone.
