A carton of oatmeal.
A bag of apples.
And a box of peppermint tea.
I looked at the total again.
Then at my bank card.
My Social Security and retirement income combined came to a little over thirteen hundred dollars a month.
My medication refill was due the next morning.
So was my supplemental insurance payment.
I leaned toward Melissa.
“I can’t cover all this.”
She did not even look up from her phone.
“What?”
“I said I can’t pay a thousand dollars for your dinner party.”
That got her attention.
Her head snapped toward me.
“Oh, Mom, not this again.”
Several people in line shifted uncomfortably.
I lowered my voice.
“I have prescriptions tomorrow.”
Melissa let out a dramatic sigh.
“You always have something tomorrow.”
My cheeks burned.
