ruby monday (2) felicity

AUGGIE: All right, sugar, what's on your mind? Do me , though, and keep it short, will you?
RUBY: Don't give me that look, Auggie. It gives me . Look, I need you to help me out.
AUGGIE: Help, huh? I don't suppose this has anything to do with, say, you and needing money, does it?
RUBY: Don't , okay? You're jumping to conclusions before I've even said anything. , it's not for me. It's for our daughter.

AUGGIE: Our daughter? Is that what you said? OUR daughter? I mean, you might have a daughter, but I don't. And even if I did-- --she wouldn't be ours. She would be mine and you wouldn't know about her.
RUBY: Her name is Felicity, she just eighteen. She ran away from home last year, and the past few months she's been living in some shit-hole here in Brooklyn with a drug dealer named Chico.
AUGGIE: no surprises. Like mother like daughter, right? What exactly does Felicity need saving from?

RUBY: There's more. And worse, too. I was able to find out she's strung out on crack, four months pregnant and talk to anybody except to get drugs.
AUGGIE: Well, I have to give you lying this time. It did get worse.
RUBY: I can't think about that baby, Auggie. The girl is having our grandchild. Just think of it. It boggles the mind, doesn't it?
AUGGIE: already. Just stop it. I can't deal with this crap right now.