Freedom полностью

“It’s just for clothes and socializing,” Patty said. “He pays his own tuition, he pays his own room and board, and maybe, if you could ever forgive him for not being an identical copy of you in every way, you might see how similar you two are. You were supporting yourself the exact same way when you were his age.”

“Right, except I wore the same three pairs of corduroys for four years of college, and I wasn’t out drinking five nights a week, and I sure as hell wasn’t getting any money from my mother.”

“Well, it’s a different world now, Walter. And maybe, just maybe, he understands better than you do what a person has to do to get ahead in it.”

“Work for a defense contractor, get shitfaced every night with fratboy Republicans. That’s really the only way to get ahead? That’s the only option available?”

“You don’t understand how scared these kids are now. They’re under so much pressure. So they like to party hard—so what?”

The old mansion’s air-conditioning was no match for the humidity pressing on it from outside. The thunder was becoming continuous and omnidirectional; the ornamental pear tree outside the window heaved its branches as if somebody were climbing in it. Sweat was running on every part of Walter’s body not directly in contact with his clothes.

“It’s interesting to hear you suddenly defending young people,” he said, “since you’re normally so—”

“I’m defending your son,” she said. “Who, in case you haven’t noticed, is not one of the brainless flipflop wearers. He’s considerably more interesting than—”

“I cannot believe you’ve been sending him drinking money! You know what it’s exactly like? It’s exactly like corporate welfare. All these supposedly free-market companies sucking on the tit of the federal government. ‘We need to shrink the government, we don’t want any regulations, we don’t want any taxes, but, oh, by the way—’ ”

“This isn’t sucking on tits, Walter,” Patty said with hatred.

“I was speaking metaphorically.”

“Well, I’m saying you picked an interesting metaphor.”

“Well, and I picked it carefully. All these companies pretending to be so grownup and free-market when they’re actually just big babies devouring the federal budget while everybody else starves. Fish and Wildlife has its budget cut year after year, another five percent every year. You go to their field offices, they’re ghost offices now. There’s no staff, there’s no money for land acquisition, no—”

“Oh the precious fish. The precious wildlife.”

“I CARE ABOUT THEM. Can you not understand that? Can you not respect that? If you can’t respect that, what are you even living with me for? Why don’t you just leave?”

“Because leaving is not the answer. My God, do you think I haven’t thought about it? Taking my great skills and work experience and great middle-aged body out on the open market? I actually think it’s wonderful what you’re doing for your warbler—”

“Bullshit.”

“So, OK, it’s not my personal thing, but—”

“What is your thing? You don’t have a thing. You sit around doing nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing, every day, and it’s killing me. If you would actually go out and get a job, and earn an actual paycheck, or do something for another human being, instead of sitting in your room feeling sorry for yourself, you might feel less worthless, is what I’m saying.”

“Fine, but, honey, nobody wants to pay me a hundred eighty thousand a year to save the warblers. It’s nice work if you can get it. But I can’t get it. You want me to make Frappuccinos at Starbucks? You think eight hours a day at Starbucks is going to make me feel like I’m worth something?”

“It might! If you would ever try it! Which you never have, in your entire life!”

“Oh, finally it comes out! Finally we’re getting somewhere!”

“I never should have let you stay home. That was the mistake. I don’t know why your parents never made you get a job, but—”

“I had jobs! God damn it, Walter.” She tried to kick him and only by accident missed his knee. “I worked a whole horrible summer for my dad. And then you saw me at the U., you know I can do it. I worked two solid years there. Even when I was eight months’ pregnant, I was still going in.”

“You were hanging out with Treadwell and drinking coffee and watching game films. That’s not a job, Patty. That’s a favor from people who love you. First you worked for your dad, then you worked for your friends in the A.D.”

“And sixteen hours a day at home for twenty years? Unpaid? Does that not count? Was that just a ‘favor,’ too? Raising your kids? Working on your house?”

“Those were things you wanted.”

“You didn’t?”

“For you. I wanted them for you.”

“Oh, bullshit, bullshit, bullshit. You wanted them for you, too. You were competing with Richard the whole time, and you know it. The only reason you’re forgetting it now is that it didn’t work out so great. You’re not winning anymore.”

“Winning has nothing to do with it.”