The same routine every time: a scrawled signature on the tab and a casual, "Thanks, sis."
Before New Year's, I settled the books.
In six months, Godfrey had racked up $28,650 in tabs at the restaurant.
Caroline's household allowance: $20,000.
Vincent's physical therapy: $18,000.
After all of it, we had less than $20,000 left in savings.
We'd have to be careful over the holidays.
I told myself what I always told myself: Vincent ruined his life saving mine. This is the least I can do.
The following year, Elise was preparing for her high school entrance exams.
Caroline called me.
"Elise's grades are decent, but she's weak in a couple of subjects. A girl with no education, what's she going to do with her life?"
"Tutoring costs eight thousand. We've scraped together two thousand on our end. Could you cover the other six? I'll write you an IOU."
She pressed the slip of paper into my hand and patted it.
"I know you're working hard. If Vincent were healthy, I'd never ask."
I opened my mouth to suggest she ask Godfrey for the money instead, but the words died in my throat.
I pulled out my phone and transferred six thousand dollars.
After the transfer, my account balance read $1,256.38.