Farnham’s Freehold By Robert A. Heinlein

“Those years were the roughest. I went up fast and money wasn’t such a problem. The War came and I was bucked from chief to j.g. and ended as a lieutenant commander in Seabees. In 1946 I had to choose between going back to chief or becoming a civilian. With Grace’s backing, I got out. So I was on the beach with no job, a wife, a son in grammar school, a three-year-old daughter, living in a trailer, prices high and going higher. We had some war bonds.

“That was the second rough period. I took a stab at contracting, lost our savings, went to work for a water company. We didn’t starve, but scraped icebox and dishrag soup were on the menu. Barbara, she stood it like a trouper-a hardworking den mother, a pillar of the PTA, and always cheerful.

“I was a construction boss before long and presently I tried contracting again. This time it clicked. I built a house on spec and a shoestring, sold it before it was finished and built two more at once. We’ve never been broke since.”

Hugh Farnham looked puzzled. “That was when she started to slip. When she started having help. When we kept liquor in the house. We didn’t quarrel-we never did save over the fact that I tried to raise Duke fairly strictly and Grace couldn’t bear to have the boy touched.

“But that was when it started, when I started making money. She isn’t built to stand prosperity. Grace has always stood up to adversity magnificently. This is the first time she hasn’t. I still think she will.”

“Of course she will, Hugh.”

“I hope so.”

“I’m glad to know more about her, Hugh. I’ll try to be considerate.”

“Damn it, I’m not asking that. I just want you to know that fat and foolish and self-centered isn’t all there is to Grace. Nor was her slipping entirely her fault. I’m not easy to live with, Barbara.”

“So?”

“So! When we were able to slow down, I didn’t. I let business keep me away evenings. When a woman is left alone, it’s easy to slip out for another beer when the commercial comes on and to nibble all evening along with the beer. If I was home, I was more likely to read than to visit, anyhow. And I didn’t just let business keep me away; I joined the local duplicate club. She joined but she dropped out. She plays a good social game-but I like to fight for every point. No criticism of her, there’s no virtue in playing as if it were life or death. Grace’s way is better- Had I been willing to take it easy, too, well, she wouldn’t be the way she is.”

“Nonsense!”

“Pardon me?”

“Hugh Farnham, what a person is can never be somebody else’s fault, I think. I am what I am because Barbie herself did it. And so did Grace. And so did you.” She added in a low voice, “I love you. And that’s not your fault, nor is anything we did your fault. I won’t listen to you beating your breast and sobbing ‘Mea culpa!’ You don’t take credit for Grace’s virtues. Why take blame for her faults?”

He blinked and smiled. “Seven no trump.”

“That’s better.”

“I love you. Consider yourself kissed.”

“Kiss back. Grand slam. But watch it,” she said out of the corner of her mouth. “Here come the cops.”

It was Karen, clean, shining, hair brushed, fresh lipstick, and smiling. “What an inspiring sight!” she said. “Would you poor slaves like a crust of bread and a pannikin of water?”

“Shortly,” her father agreed. “In the meantime don’t carry these buckets too heavily loaded.”

Karen backed away. “I wasn’t volunteering!”

“That’s all right. We aren’t formal.”

“But Daddy, I’m clean!”

“Has the creek gone dry?”

“Daddy! I’ve got lunch ready. Out front. You’re too filthy to come into my lovely clean house.” –

“Yes, baby. Come along, Barbara.” He picked up the buckets.

Mrs. Farnham did not appear for lunch. Karen stated that Mother had decided to eat inside. Hugh let it go at that; there would be enough hell when Duke got back.Joe said, “Hugh? About that notion of plumbing-” “Got it figured out?”