"You know, poor Nancie is sick again," she said to me, lifting a shopping bag out of her trunk.
I grabbed another bag out of the back, "Aunt Steffie, Nancie lies to make you feel bad. There's no way she could be sick as often as she says."
My aunt's eyes squinted and her lips drew together. I continued, "She does drugs and that's where the money goes."
"You can't tell me what I can do with my money," she shot.
"You're right," I said, puzzled. As much money as I could save her, I would never try and tell someone what they should do with their own money. "She's taken thousands of dollars from you guys. In the last year alone she's racked up seventy grand in debt. Where do you think that all goes?"
I tried to control my growing anger but the suppression made my heart palpitate deeper into my chest.
"Boy your mother has you buffaloed," she said, staring
"Aunt Steffie," my voice cracked. "That's so ridiculous to say. I don't even get it."
"All your mother thinks about is money," she continued. "She's jealous."
"Nancie takes all that money and my mom is the jealous one?" the question was more to myself. "I gotta go." I placed the grocery bag inside the door and walked back through the garage and down the hill in the backyard.
I had to do something, things were getting ridiculous.
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