them, Faye looked back remembering when he had begun to seem preoccupied, concerned, drinking more, but he had never admitted anything to her. And for the past two years, without saying a word to her, he had been running on “empty.” There was no money left at all, there were only monumental debts which he had accumulated with their extravagant lifestyle. Faye Price Thayer sat listening to what they had to say, her face pale, features taut, a frown between her eyes, and she looked as though she were in shock. In a way she was. She almost staggered out of the room when they left her. And when Ward came home later that afternoon, he found her sitting upright in a chair in the library, silently waiting for him.
“Hi, babe. What are you doing downstairs so soon? Shouldn't you be resting?” Resting? Resting? How could she be resting when they had no money left, when she should be out looking for a job? All they had left were debts, and as she raised her eyes to his, he knew that something terrible had happened. “Faye? … Darling, what's wrong?” There were tears trembling in her eyes and she didn't even know where to begin. The tears spilled onto her cheeks and she began to sob. How could he have played this game? What was he thinking of? When she thought of all the jewelry he had bought, the cars, furs, the house in Palm Springs, the polo ponies … it went on forever … and God only knew how bad the debts were. “Darling, what is it?” He knelt beside her and all she could do was sob, until finally she took a deep breath and gently touched his face with her hand. How could she hate this man? She had never faced it until now, but he was only a child, a boy pretending to be a man. At thirty-five, he was less mature than their six-year-old son. Lionel was already practical and wise … but Ward … Ward … there was the sorrow of an ended life in Faye's eyes as she attempted to calm down and talk to him about what she had heard that afternoon.
“Bill Gentry and Lawson Burford were here this afternoon, Ward.” There was nothing ominous in her voice, only sorrow, for him and for all of them, and Ward looked instantly annoyed. He spun around and walked to the bar, and poured himself a stiff drink. He'd had fun that afternoon, until now. He glanced over his shoulder at his wife, searching her eyes.
“Don't let those two upset you, Faye. They're both a pain in the ass. What did they want?”
“To talk some sense into you, I guess.”
“What's that supposed to mean?” He looked nervously at her as he sat down in a chair. “What did they say?”
“They told me everything, Ward.” His face went white, as hers had hours before. “They told me that you don't have a dime left. The shipyard has to be closed down, this house has to be sold to pay our debts … everything's going to have to change, Ward. We're going to have to grow up and stop pretending we live in a fairy land and aren't subject to the same pressures as everyone else in the world.” The only difference between them and everyone else was that he'd never worked a day in his life and they had five children to support. If only she had known. She would never have had this last child. She didn't even feel guilty for the thought, no matter how sweet the new baby was. Their very lives were at stake right now, and she knew in her gut that Ward wasn't going to do a damn thing about it. He wasn't capable of it, but she was. And if he couldn't row the boat to shore, then she would, and that's all there was to it. “Ward … we have to talk about this …”
He jumped up and stalked across the room. “Some other time, Faye. I'm tired.” She leapt to her feet, not caring how weak she still felt. All of that was forgotten now. That was a luxury. Another luxury they could no longer afford.
“Dammit! Listen to me! How long are you going to play games with me? Until they put you in jail for bad debts? Until they throw us out of this house? According to Lawson and Bill, we don't have a penny