Bad Dad. Alice Shane
never complain,” Mary Lou chimed in smugly.
“That’s because I know it wouldn’t do any good,” Danny said dryly. “But I don’t want my son talkin’ that way.”
“Are you sayin’ that you don’t want our son to be anything like me? Is that how it goes?” she challenged, her full, reddened lips thinning into a pout.
Alarmed, dismayed at this sudden outburst, Margo mutely glanced at Lester. She was the outsider, unrelated except by marriage to these people and knew better than to interfere with their arguments. But it was difficult keeping quiet. She very much wanted to tell Mary Lou to shut up, but restrained the urge.
“Hey, kids. No more of this! Besides, it’s almost time for dinner. Where would you like to go?” Lester said, wanting to change the subject, concluding that Mary Lou was a piece of work.
He felt sorry for Danny. It must be rough for him, marrying out of his class, adjusting to her incivility and unruly behavior.
What made him do it? It was a question Lester often asked himself. Probably felt obligated to marry the little bitch after knocking her up, He could have just as easily supported the kid and gone on with his life. Was it love that inspired this unlikely union? Or was it fallout from his contentious divorce from Gloria, which could have made Danny vulnerable to Mary Lou’s manipulations?
They would have to talk, but only when the time was right, Lester decided. He might be Danny’s father but he didn’t want to be intrusive, a reluctance borne of guilt he felt for his son’s loss of status in the world. True, Danny was responsible for his own actions. But he could have been a better father, Lester admitted to himself. Certainly, he shouldn’t have been away so much – on hunting trips to Africa, business in Wyoming – leaving the boy at the mercy of his mother’s unpredictable moods and behaviors.
He now wanted to provide some protection for his son, help Danny transcend his descent into a lifestyle that doomed him to an inappropriate marriage and dangerous, low paying work, but he had no idea what to do about it at this at this juncture.
CHAPTER 17
At Mary Lou’s insistence, they ended up eating dinner at the Red Lobster, a franchise that existed throughout the South. In Bedford, it was situated on a lot next to a strip mall.
“Ah love lobster, but Danny can’t afford to buy it for me,” she whined coyly before they went out for dinner that evening in an obvious attempt to enlist Lester’s sympathy – a comment that compounded his distaste for his daughter-in-law.
Mary Lou desperately wanted Lester to know about the unrelieved harshness of her existence, the truth about her life with Danny who brought home measly little paychecks that barely covered their expenses.
They rarely dined out in restaurants, except for Applebee’s, which didn’t account for much as far as she was concerned. Even when they ate there, they watched every penny, never ordering entrees that cost more than $8.99. Nor did they ever go on real vacations, except for camp-outs with Charlie in state parks where she did all the cooking out-of-doors on a portable stove. It was all so unfair, Mary Lou thought, now acutely aware of her poverty in contrast to the lifestyle that Margo enjoyed. She would have given anything to stay at that swanky hotel where Lester and Margo had reserved a suite.
Why couldn’t she have found someone like Lester – rich, refined, someone who would make her feel cared for, who could buy her expensive clothes at Dillard’s, take her to ritzy restaurants like Marcel’s in suburban Bedford. Mary Lou ached with regret and a sense of loss, the knowledge of having made the wrong choices in life – little formal education, the birth of Charlie when she was still in her teens, never having the opportunity to have a career, like Margo. Not that she ever wanted a career or cared about making money. All she ever wanted was to be a wife and mother. Well, she had that and it wasn’t enough.
“I’d rather have steak,” Danny said, hoping that Lester would fall in line and avoid going to the Red Lobster. He knew that contradicting Mary Lou’s choice of a restaurant would generate a firestorm, that she would accuse him of being selfish and mean. Normally afraid of her unpredictable anger, his father’s presence gave Danny the strength to stand up to her.
“What about you, Dad? What about a good steakhouse?”
Lester could see it coming. Mary Lou was gearing up for battle, her bright red lips set in an uncompromisingly sour expression, her eyes narrowing.
“I’m not going to get in the middle of this. Make up your minds,” he said, exasperated, trying to avoid looking in Mary Lou’s direction.
“You can get steak at the Red Lobster,” Mary Lou insisted. “Ah love lobster but you can’t afford to buy it for me like your Daddy can,” she said, flirtatiously eyeing Lester who did not respond, but looked away, shocked, repelled by her wiles.
Danny’s face became florid, much the way Lester’s coloring flared when he became angry, Margo noticed. The guy dodges live wires to support her and little Charlie, and the twit doesn’t have a modicum of loyalty towards him, she thought, remembering how her own mother taunted her father for bringing home too little money despite the long hours he put in.
“Well, when you get up off your lazy little butt to bring some moolah into the house, you’ll be able to eat lobster and you won’t have to beg my daddy to buy it for you!” Danny snapped, feeling triumphant about putting Mary Lou in her place.
No more nice guy bullshit, Danny decided. If there ever was a time he hated Mary Lou, it was now, as he witnessed her attempts to curry his father’s favor by trying to make him look bad. He did the best he could, worked overtime, always brought his entire paycheck home – unlike the other guys on his crew who pissed money away at bars on Friday nights. What right did she have to complain to his father?
OK. He would give in, let Mary Lou have her way, Danny decided, wanting to avoid further argument in his father’s presence. They headed for the Red Lobster.
CHAPTER 18
Danny hated Mary Lou most when he was at work, when he had to brace himself to climb utility poles, taking deep breaths to dispel the fear that caused his muscles to stiffen in protest. Part of his job involved the installation and repair of electrical wires, a hazard he faced on a daily basis. The image of his dead friend, Cal, electrocuted a year earlier when live wires tumbled onto his plastic helmet, welding it to his flesh, still haunted him, coloring his feelings for his work and his marriage.
Was Mary Lou worth dying for, he asked himself, knowing that she wasn’t and never would be. What had he done to himself?
No wonder Dad was disappointed in him, Danny reflected. His father had provided him with every advantage, every benefit, and in return, expected him to exercise good judgment. He should have known better. To have grown up in privilege and wind up like this was incomprehensible, even to himself, an attitude that took hold since his father’s reappearance in his life.
He knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he wanted to leave Mary Lou. The love he once felt for her, that had given him a sense of wholeness and purpose, had disappeared from the seat of his heart, although he couldn’t pinpoint exactly when that happened. Was it when Cal died on the wires, reinforcing his own fears, a reminder of his own mortality? Here he was, only 28, and worried about his life being snuffed out on the job. Or was he influenced by bulletins he received from Bridgefield Academy with news about his classmates who had good jobs, or were lawyers, doctors, business owners – guys who had the sense to go to college and marry girls from their own social class.
Mary Lou had once made him feel special, manly when they were younger, before he graduated from Bridgefield, before Charlie was born. She had been a refuge from his mother’s craziness after his parents’ divorce. Dad was always flying back and forth to Wyoming, or hunting big game in Africa, leaving him alone with Gloria, whose ferocious temper and unpredictable moods scared the shit out of him. She had a way of making him feel unwanted, treating him like an intruder during her exploits with men she brought home. They would fornicate in her bedroom,