Auntie
Auntie
Joy Boehm
My Aunt Lynette was the most materialistic person I’ve ever known. There was a time I had asked her for some advice on boys because she seemed to be good with things like that. She stood, leaning against the marbled kitchen counter in her loungewear, drinking very aromatic coffee from an expensive looking mug, when I turned to her and explain my situation.
“I don’t know if I should tell him how I feel… What if I mess up our friendship?” I asked. I could already venture a guess at what she was going to say next.
She padded over to the table I was already seated at and sat in the cushioned chair across from me then responded with a question of her own. “Well what does he want to do when he graduates?”
“Music major most likely…” I said.
She raised a threaded eyebrow and shook her head, sterling silver earrings clinking together slightly. “Uh oh, that barely makes any money, Joy. You don’t want to be with someone like that.”
I was kind of hurt that she’d say something like that, but it was to be expected I suppose. Afterall, both her sons attend highly prestigious, might I add, extremely expensive, Catholic private schools, no shade being thrown there. However it always seemed like money was the one thing on her mind, even when she would ask me about my own future in the military.
“I mean it depends what part of music he goes into doesn’t it? He could become a very successful performance major.” I had hoped to earn her not-so-easily-given approval with that statement, even if I knew that it wasn’t entirely true.
“Performance major? Even if he were to travel the world playing music, none of that money will go to you, Joy.” She took a sip of her all-natural coffee and dabbed an embroidered napkin over her plumped lips.
“I don’t need a man to make money for me, Tita,” I said flatly, adding emphasis to remind her she’s not my mother, so she wouldn’t be getting any money from me anyway.