“You made it my business when you stole my car to cover up your financial mess,” I yelled back, finally matching his volume. “You want to talk about family? Let’s talk about family. You want me to support Lucas? You want me to be the safety net? Well, look at the net, Dad. It’s full of holes.”
I turned to the extended family. Aunt Linda looked confused. Uncle Mike was frowning, picking up the papers.
“They are broke,” I announced, dropping the bombshell I had discovered that morning. “Dad cashed out his IRA six months ago—not to invest, to pay Lucas’s gambling debts.”
“Liar!” Dad shrieked, but his voice cracked.
“Here are the bank statements,” I said, tossing another stack on the table. “You left them in the study, Dad. I made copies. You have less than $5,000 to your name. You can’t afford to help Lucas. You can’t afford the baby. That’s why you took my car. You were going to let Lucas drive it. And when he inevitably crashed it or got it impounded, you were going to guilt me into eating the cost because family helps family.”
The silence now was heavy, suffocating. Uncle Mike was reading the bank statements, his face paling. He looked at my father.
“Gary… is this true? You borrowed four grand from me last month for home repairs. Did that go to Lucas?”
Dad didn’t answer. He slumped back into his chair, looking suddenly very old and very small.
I turned to Jessica. She was trembling, holding her stomach.
“Jessica,” I said, my voice softening, “they are using you. They are using the baby. They see that child as a leverage point to get money from me, from Mike, from anyone they can guilt-trip. Lucas went to the casino last night. He wasn’t getting supplies. He was taking my car to the casino with money he probably stole from your purse.”
Jessica let out a choked sob.
“He… he took my rent money,” she said. “He said he needed it for the lawyer to fix his license.”
“There is no lawyer,” I said gently. “And there is no license.”
“That’s enough!” Mom shrieked, lunging at me.
Uncle Mike caught her by the arm, holding her back.
“It is enough, Brenda,” Uncle Mike said, his voice low and dangerous. “It’s enough.”
Jessica looked at my parents. She looked at the dossier on the table. Then she looked at me.
“Is he really in jail?” she whispered.
“Yes,” I said. “For grand theft auto, and I’m not bailing him out. If I do, he learns nothing. If I do, he keeps driving. And next time he might kill someone. Maybe even you or the baby.”
Jessica took a deep breath. She wiped her face. The fear in her eyes was replaced by a cold realization. The spell was broken.
“I need a ride,” she said to the room. “I need to go to my sister’s in Ohio.”
“You can’t leave,” Mom wailed. “You’re carrying my grandson.”
Leave a Comment