Brenna concluded that she hated her sister, and the sooner Lana was gone, the better off she’d be.
Lana’s much-older husband, Albert, had accumulated a small fortune.
And when Albert had died as a result of a massive heart attack brought on by his morbid obesity...
Lana had inherited all of her late-husband’s estate.
Since Lana had no children, close friends, or other close relatives.
Brenna was next in line for the riches.
If she played her cards right.
Brenna moved into Lana’s large suburban home shortly after Albert’s death –
ostensibly to help her sister cope; but, actually, to help herself to some of the estate.
Problem was, three months into the arrangement, things weren’t going so well – for Brenna, at least.
Living in close contact with her older sister again after so many years, Brenna saw firsthand how much Lana had changed.
Lana was no longer the slender, shy, compassionate girl who had won Albert’s heart.
To Brenna, she had become a large, loud, arrogant woman.
Wealth had fattened and spoiled Lana, imbued her with the toxic attitude that she was right about everything and entitled to anything.
Brenna was soon at her wit’s end.
Her rich sister played cheap – jealously guarding Albert’s money all for herself.
Lana’s manner was repugnant, her appearance repulsive.
There was no way Brenna could bear staying with her for another fifty days, let alone another fifty years –
waiting for the moment Lana finally expired and Brenna could claim the estate.
But she knew if she left, she left behind a fortune.
So, the question became: how could Brenna accelerate Lana’s end?
To bring about a new beginning for herself with her late-sister’s money?
Brenna
[simple text]: The answer hit Brenna right between the eyes one night at dinner, when Lana spluttered across the table, splattering
The answer hit Brenna right between the eyes one night at dinner, when Lana spluttered across the table, splattering [Person 2]:
Lana
These beans are utterly tasteless!
Lana
If I have to eat vegetables, I want them to at least have some taste!
Lana slammed her silver cutlery down on the lace tablecloth and pushed out her thick lips in a pout.
Her triple chins puffing out as she jerked her head down in a sulk.
Brenna wiped chunks of half-chewed green beans off her face with a paper napkin.
And that’s when the idea hit her – like a deep-dish double-cream pie in the face.
Brenna casually suggested:
Brenna
Then don’t eat any vegetables. Nobody’s forcing you to.
Lana gaped at her sister.
Lana
But-But you made them! You keep saying that I need a balanced diet.
Gluttony would be the big, fat deal that would unlock her sister’s riches.
Albert had been enormous, after all, and only Brenna’s sensible cooking had temporarily halted Lana’s waddle down that same widened path.
Brenna
You know the old saying, Lana: if you have it, eat it. If you want to indulge yourself, indulge yourself.
Lana licked her lips, her eyes shining.
She loved the word ‘indulge’, as it applied to herself.
And so, she loved Brenna’s idea; ate it up, in fact.
The stuffing began in earnest that evening.
The fattening up for the slaughter.
The balanced diet was out the window, the buffet open for business.
Brenna heaped food upon her sister, food of the richest and fattiest, loaded with calories and laden with cholesterol, enough to choke a horse.
Lana became giddy with gluttony, literally feasting on her wealth.
The results were encouraging – within two months, Lana had ballooned to such an extent that she panted when she walked, sweated when she worked the TV remote control.
Brenna was already counting her sister’s money, because nobody could count the calories going into Lana’s mouth.
Sure enough, four months after her change in ‘diet’, Lana was rushed to the hospital in one of the city’s specially-built heavy-duty ambulances.
Brenna watched her sister gasp and clutch at her chest, as the woman had made the mistake of trying to climb the stairs to the third floor of her home.
It was ‘Fat’ Albert all over again.
Brenna feigned sisterly concern, for the benefit of the attending paramedics.
It was all so avoidable, you see, if only Lana had been able to control herself.
Problem was, Lana didn’t die.
Brenna received the bad news later that night.
Even worse, one week later, a noticeably less-heavy Lana returned home – with her new dietician, Allan Stevens.
Allan was a buff young man who doted on Lana.
And Lana doted on him, delighted to have such a handsome companion looking after her.
Leaving Brenna seething, the situation intolerable.
Lana slimmed down rapidly, regaining her natural attractiveness and civility, for the benefit of the new man in her life.
Brenna was being pushed right out of the (financial) picture.
Because if Lana should marry Allan, Brenna’s inheritance was gone.
But then a new idea struck Brenna, a new plan to secure her rightful rich future – at dinner one night.
When Lana politely said across the table:
Lana
Please pass me another rice cake, Brenna.
Lana
I’ll just have one more, and then I have to get ready for Allan.
Lana
He’s taking me dancing tonight.
The woman fairly glowed with good health and good spirits.
Brenna glowered at her sister; then purposefully shattered Lana’s happy demeanour.
Brenna
Another rice cake? Well, okay, if you think you should…
Lana gaped at her sister.
Lana
You-You mean, you think I’m putting some weight back on!?
Vanity would be the thin wedge which would pry her sister’s fortune loose before it was too late.
Starving rather than stuffing.
Brenna
You know the old saying, Lana: a woman can never be too rich, or too thin.
