God, I’m so fricking tired of this shit. Every morning I get up early, wake the damn kids up and feed them their fricking Cocoa Puffs. This is the thanks I get. That piece of shit won’t start again. I just had the battery replaced. So, what the hell is wrong with that bucket of bolts now? I’ll have to wake up Gerry and see if he can get it started. I have to take those brats to school. I have to go to traffic court for that trumped-up DUI ticket.

 “Gerry, wake up. The hoopty car won’t start again. Get up.”

“What, what the hell do you want now? I just got to sleep a couple of hours ago. God, can’t you keep those kids quiet and turn down that damn TV.”

“Don’t you go to sleep again, you lazy good for nothing? You’re just another example of how I try to help people, and they end up taking advantage of me.”

“Alright, alright, let me put some pants on and take a piss. Can you give me five minutes?”

“Five minutes, that’s it. You get your sorry ass out on the curb and help me. You have been living here for a year and a half, and you never lift a hand to help me. And I let that brat of yours live here too. When you leave, she’s going with you. Keep that in mind.”

God, it’s so cold out here. What am I going to do if he can’t fix it? I’m tapped out. I used up all the child support this month already. That old bag of a mother won’t lend me another dime. I spend the SSI money on heating oil. My exes won’t fork over any more money. My credit cards are maxed out. Crap.

“Well, it’s about time you got your sorry ass out here. What took you so long?”

“I’m here now; let me try it. You probably just flooded it.”

“Well, can you fix it or not?”

“Not. I don’t know. Maybe the alternators dead, or it needs a new ignition system. You’ll have to take it up to Pep Boys and get it checked out. I’m going back to bed.”

“The hell you are. If I don’t get this piece of crap running, we’re all screwed. Do you have any money you didn’t tell me about?”

“Oh yeah, my hidden assets. You take my disability check the second I get it. Where would I get any money?’

“You think I don’t know that you’re selling meth out of my trailer out back. Come on, hand it over right now, or get the hell out of here. And take that skanky daughter of yours with you. I’m sick of her waking me up all night with her constant hacking. She always seems to have money for her smokes. Where’s she getting that money on her back?”

“Hey, don’t you talk about my daughter like that? Here I’ve got fifty bucks, that’s it.

“That’s not enough. I have to find some more money fast. I’m just going to take a credit card out in Harry’s name. I did the same thing with the older two. I don’t have any choice.”

“What the hell are you talking about? A credit card in Harry’s name; he’s only seven years old. And you did that to the other two too? Man, you really are one crappy mother. You’re always calling them names and knocking them around. Now you’re screwing up their credit too. What are you going to do next? Make Sissy prostitute herself?”

“She probably already does. But she won’t give me any money. Right now, I’m going to call my mother. See if she can come and pick up the kids and take them to school and then drop me off at court. I have to take care of that bogus DUI.

After traffic court, Meghan stands outside the police station trying to decide what to do next when her cell phone rings.

“Meghan, it’s your Aunt Tilly.”

“I know who it is, Aunt Tilly. What do you want? I’m having a hell of a bad day, and it’s not even lunchtime.”

“Meghan, it’s your Uncle Morty; he’s really bad. If you want to see him again, you better get your ass over here now. He isn’t going to last much longer.”

All I ever do is give, give, and give.  All I ever get back is crap. Nobody appreciates anything I do. How I keep food on the table and clothes on their backs. They never lift a hand to help me. Now I have to go visit my Uncle. What’s next? Do I have to serve food at the homeless shelter? Next thing I know, I’ll be living in the shelter along with those two brats of mine.

“Hi, Aunt Tilly. I got here as fast as I could. I had to go to court today. My car broke down again, and I had to take the bus to get here. It’s cold as hell out here. Can I come in? Can you give me a cup of coffee? I could eat too. I haven’t eaten anything today. I’ll go see Uncle Morty while you’re doing that.”

 Oh, Jeez, look at him. He looks like he is about to breathe his last breath. God, it freaking stinks in here. I hate old people. They stink. I ought to get a medal for this.

“Hi, Uncle Joe, it’s me, Meghan, I came to see how you’re doing. Aunt Tilly called this morning and said you weren’t feeling too well. Uncle Joe raises his limp hand and signals for Meghan to come closer. She leans in, and his breath almost knocks her over.

“Jeez, Uncle Morty, would it kill you to rinse out with some Listerine once in a while? So, what do you want to tell me?”

She hears him whisper, “Here. You were always my favorite.”

He hands her a paper. She looks down, and it’s a check. At that moment, she sees his hand drop-down, and he releases a long sour breath. She looks at him and lifts one of his baggy eyelids. He’s dead. She screams at the top of her lungs. Her aunt comes running in.

“For the love of god, what are you whaling about? You scared the hell out of me.”

Meghan points at Uncle Joe. Aunt Tilly says,” Well, if that don’t beat all. The first time I’m out of this dam room for more than five minutes, and he croaks. He was always such an inconsiderate bastard. What’s that in your hand?”

Meghan looks down at her hand and says, “I forgot. He handed this to me and told me I was his favorite. “It’s a check for…oh my god, it’s for one hundred thousand dollars. Is this for real?”

“Yeah, it’s real. He said he was going to leave you something. But I thought he was going to leave you his baseball card collection. He said that you and he used to collect those when you were a kid. And he took you to all the Phillies games. I guess you were his favorite. He didn’t leave your mother anything.”

“Holy crap, this is the answer to my prayers. Thanks, Aunt Tilly. I gotta be going. Let me know if I can do anything to help with the funeral. I have to get home to pick up the kids from school. I’ll see you later.”

“Wait, you’re leaving now? Aren’t you going to at least wait until the mortician comes to pick up your uncle?”

“Naw, I can’t now, Aunt Tilly. I’ll call you later.” Meghan takes the 402 express bus home and gets off in front of the bank. She wants to cash the check before her aunt decides to stop payment on it or something. She walks up to the bank teller and hands the check over. “I want to cash this check. Can you put it all in one-hundred-dollar bills?”

The bank teller takes a look at the check and gives Meghan a look over too. “Can you wait a minute, please? I have to talk to the manager. I don’t know if we have enough cash on hand at this branch. We may have to contact the main branch to get this amount.”

About twenty minutes later, the manager calls Meghan over to her office. Here you go, Ms. Mullen; sorry for the wait. We had to get the cash from the main bank. I put the money in an envelope for you. I don’t recommend you walk around with this much cash. Perhaps you would like to open up a savings account and place some of this money here for safekeeping.”

“What? No, no, I’ll be taking it to… to my accountant tomorrow morning. Don’t worry about it. Thanks.”

 Oh, my freaking god, I’m rich, rich. Finally, I got what I deserved all these years. The first thing I’m going to do is get rid of that freaking piece of shit car and get those freeloaders out of my house. Then I’m going to take a vacation by myself. Maybe I’ll get lucky and meet a rich guy on a cruise or something, somebody with class.

One month later, Meghan returns from a gambling cruise on the Mississippi.  Her pockets are empty, and no rich guy in tow. Her mother meets her at the door.

“Well, it’s about dam time that you showed up, Meghan. These brats of yours are driving me half crazy. I had to let Gerry and his daughter move back in. I couldn’t cover your bills by myself. You neglected to leave me any money while you took your vacation. Your car still isn’t working. I hope you saved some of that money to get a new car or at least get that junker fixed. The least you could have done was stay for your Uncles funeral. Aunt Tilly was really pissed when you didn’t show up.”

“Goddam, it all to hell. Can’t I ever catch a break?

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