Watching her devour rare meat with the blood running out of the corners of her mouth had me feeling like a spectator in a gory episode of Hostile Planet. An appetite-withering sight. Particularly since my mother had never really been much of a meat eater, anyway. Spam was a far cry from steak, but my stepdad Conner, if I could even call him that, hadn’t worked a couple days, which left us short on grocery money.
