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continued … She growled about the money all the way home as if I wasn’t there.  I stared straight ahead afraid to say a word.

She was an alcoholic but as a kid I didn’t know drinking was at the heart of her crazy flares of temper. Like the time I came home while she was breaking all the dishes on the kitchen floor.
She was either vicious or nice but you never knew which person to expect.  
 On the vicious side? Every afternoon she took a nap.  She was a light sleeper so even if the floor creaked she’d wake up and growl viscously like a rabid dog that could speak. 
 When she wasn’t drinking you could almost say she was sweet.  But I had to be cautious.  I never knew which person to expect.  
Occasionally I made her laugh .  She made me feel like I was clever and funny.  But I don’t remember any outward displays of affection.  

They must had had a good sized stash hidden somewhere in the house.  When she returned to the car she carried a wad of cash big enough to choke a banker.

She had an ugly look on her face.  I have a feeling she grabbed a lot more money than he needed just to spite him.

Next: The Incident That Started It All …

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