Friends and Strangers - J. Courtney Sullivan Page 0,116

He made his millions the old-fashioned way: inheriting wealth and screwing the little guy.”

His millions.

Sam thought of Elisabeth’s stories about being young and broke in the city. Four roommates in a two-bedroom apartment, waiting tables to get by. She never gave the impression that she came from money.

When Sam told her about her student loan debt, Elisabeth said, “Don’t worry about that. Everyone I know has student loan debt. We all manage, one way or the other.”

That we. She had included herself.

“I’m confused,” Sam said, before she could think better of it. “I thought Elisabeth was a waitress after college.”

George shrugged. “Was she? If so, I would assume it was just to piss off her parents. Or maybe she did think she needed to waitress. Elisabeth prides herself on not taking money from her father, but that’s not the same as having a father who doesn’t have money. She has a safety net most people don’t. I love her, but that’s her blind spot. Always has been.”

Sam felt like some missing piece of the story had just been revealed to her, making everything else look different. Elisabeth wasn’t the person she claimed to be. And here was Sam, taking her lies as proof that anyone could manage and pursue their art and somehow still end up with the beautiful house and the perfect baby.

George cleared his throat. “I love Lizzy, you know that. I hit the jackpot when I got her as a daughter-in-law. Maybe I’m just being bitter. Her parents rubbed me the wrong way at Christmas. They’re clueless snobs, the both of them.”

“I heard about the big fight,” Sam said.

He looked surprised. “You did? Well, then. I don’t have to tell you that, on some level, Lizzy knows she has a backup plan. Otherwise she never would have been so careless and gotten into that situation with her sister.”

“What situation?” Sam said.

“Oh.” He looked flustered, alarmed, like he’d said too much. “All I’m saying is that’s how people like that operate. It’s about who you know. If you don’t know anyone, it might take longer.”

Sam thought this over. George was right.

Isabella had only gotten her internship because a friend of her father’s arranged it. When Lexi told them about her job offers and they congratulated her, she said, “My aunt is a big-deal literary agent. She called in a favor, that’s all.” So many of Sam’s classmates had done unpaid internships during the summer months, when Sam was working to afford her tuition.

Still, somehow Sam hadn’t made the connection until now that wealth wasn’t only about money, but opportunity. She had thought her friends were being humble. There was no one she could call to find her a job, unless she wanted to be a nurse or a cop or a teacher. Except for Elisabeth. Elisabeth had offered, but Sam hadn’t even considered taking her up on it. The offer hadn’t seemed real. It seemed like too much to ask. Maybe that was how these things were done and Sam was the only one who didn’t know it.

“The other day, Faye and I heard this story on the radio,” George said. “The children of baby boomers will inherit more wealth than any previous generation. Faye said to me, ‘So they’re sitting around, waiting for their parents to die. Isn’t that nice?’ And I said, ‘We’re lucky we have nothing—Andrew has no incentive to wish us dead.’ ”

He grinned, but it wasn’t convincing.

“I had mixed feelings after he went off to the city and got a big important job. Proud. But for a while, I swear, he was pissed at us. He started hanging around with all these rich kids, he met Elisabeth, and it was like he resented us for not being rich, as if it was our choice and we had decided against it on principle. We were only ever able to have one kid. That killed Faye. We put everything into him. Then, there he was, looking down on us. He used to go by Andy. Then all of a sudden, he’s Andrew. Faye said to give him time, and she was right. Now he’s back. Away from that city, away from that job, I see the old him coming through. Little things. Like he helped me switch out the screens for the storm windows. We had a few laughs, and a few beers, while we did it. I thought he’d tell me to just hire someone, but no. We went fishing together sometimes, when