Judgment

"Fraughts and frolics, fraughts and frolics," Grandmother croaked (over and over again, and this irritated them [as if she was trying to drive them all mad]). One by one, the rest of the family left her hospital room (all but Delia), to activate any number of excuses whereby they'd be away when she took her last breath. Delia pulled her chair close to the bed and took her grandmother's hand. "I'm here," she said, "and I'll stay here until you go, then I'll take care of it (so don't worry). I love you very much." It wasn't long; given the comfort of Delia's voice and the confidence that she had in the young woman herself, Grandmother managed to squeeze the hand that held hers so tenderly, smiled, and was off to her next appointment promptly. Delia left before the others returned (prayers said and keys in her coat pocket). At her grandmother's house, she let herself in and tapped until she heard a hollow sound behind the wainscoting in a corner of the dining room; she pushed in and the paneling released, popping open a makeshift door. There, in a small cabinet, were a number of sealed bottles marked with names and a judgment of "fraughts" or "frolics" written by hand. One by one, she used the house key to break the seals and sent whatever it was out into the world beyond to find its recipient (be it family, friend, and/or foe). There was only one bottle left - off on its own and decorated with beads; the label said, "Delia; Love and Blessings Always". She held it to her heart, shed a tear, and gave the top a twist.