Poor

Bethany

"Mom? You here?" Bethany called out as she walked through the kitchen toward the living room.

"In here, baby."

She turned to walk toward the large master bedroom at the far end of the house. Her mom was standing by the full-length mirror near the bathroom with a pretty white dress hanging in front of her. She turned and smiled.

"What do you think of this? Too much?"

Bethany walked toward her mom and glanced down at the dress. "What's it for?"

"A dinner party Kent's having with some of his clients. I'm supposed to be there, but I've been begging him to let me out of it."

"What?" Bethany chuckled and reached for her mom, pulling her into a tight hug. "You're going to be great there. You always are."

"I know, but you know how weird I feel around rich people." She sighed and pulled back. "It's like I'm still dirt-floor poor and scrambling to rub two nickels together."

"But you're not, Mom. You have everything anyone could want." Bethany moved back and sat on the edge of the bed.

"