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Free Food for Millionaires(139)

Author:Min Jin Lee

Irene had fallen back to sleep. She breathed so quietly that Casey leaned her ear against the baby’s flowery breath. She wished to make it up to her goddaughter somehow for her father’s departure. Would Ted be a good divorced father? Would he be around? In the past four years, Casey had come to understand that Ella was like a poor person in a rich person’s disguise. Until a child is fully grown, parents should not die, Casey thought indignantly, and they should not go away. But her own parents—what about them? Her mother and father were alive, and they had stuck around to do their duty. No one was satisfied. Ted had split. Ella’s mother was dead. Jay was marrying a rich girl.

Casey’s heart weighed like a thousand pounds.

Ella got up to head to the kitchen. She’d bought several salmon steaks that morning, and her father had called to say he was working late. The two of them could cook dinner together and share a bottle of wine.

“Can you stay for dinner?” Ella asked.

“No,” Casey answered right away. Why had she said that when she’d planned on staying for dinner all along? But she couldn’t manage to be there much longer. “I have to get back home,” she sputtered.

“But you just got here,” Ella said, her eyes full of disappointment. She’d been so looking forward to seeing her and having a long visit.

“I can stay a little longer, but I should get back. I need to get started on the corporate finance project.” Casey had already finished the project the day before. “I just wanted to check in with you today, and of course see your little one. And you both look great.” She tried to sound upbeat.

“Oh,” Ella said. She did understand. “Well, yes. You must be incredibly busy with school.”

Casey nodded emphatically, not wishing to lie anymore. She picked up a scone and broke off a large piece. She slathered it with clotted cream. Ella poured her some tea.

Ella talked some more about Ted and how she was happy for him after all, and Casey listened to it. Ella wasn’t lying so much as she wasn’t telling the truth about how she felt as a woman. Casey remembered what it was to see Jay with those girls. And she’d believed him when he’d said they didn’t mean much to him. Ella’s husband had fallen in love with Delia and planned to marry her. He had lied to her repeatedly. Ted was an asshole, and Ella was a fool. Casey didn’t want to sit there and listen to the pious fluff. Not much later, she took the train back home.

Back in the city, she found Unu at his desk, reading his new issue of Foreign Affairs.

“What happened to pool night with George?”

Unu shook his head. “Back’s been hurting today, so I stayed in.” Casey appeared crestfallen. “Hey, I thought you’d be eating with Ella . . What’s going on with you? Is everything all right?”

“I’m hungry.” She went to the kitchen. Nothing looked appealing in the refrigerator or the cupboard. The tedium of fixing another pasta or rice dinner made her want to scream. “Can we order in?” she shouted as she dug in a drawer in search of a take-out menu.

Unu turned around to the kitchen in surprise. Ever since he’d lost his job, she hadn’t wanted to order in or go out to dinner. Casey stood by the wall phone and studied the menu.

“Do you have any cash in the house?” she asked.

“Yeah. Get what you want, babe,” Unu said, and pulled out his wallet. He had seventy-two dollars on him.

Casey had already picked up the phone and was ordering. He counted four entrées, soup, rice, fried noodles, and a vegetable. Who would eat all that? he wondered.

Unu closed his magazine and set it aside on the coffee table. He turned on the television to the Mets game. When she hung up the phone, Casey came over and sat beside him.

“What was the total?” Unu asked, laughing. He was amused by her getting all that food.

“Dunno,” she said, staring at the screen. She liked the Mets okay.

It was the middle of the eighth inning with the Mets pitcher on the mound. The pitcher walked the second player in a row. Casey yelled at the television, “Why do those assholes make so much money? They’re not paid millions to lose, dammit.”

Unu kissed her cheek, thinking she was funny.

Casey grew still. “They must have something, though,” she said sadly. She felt defeated again by life. What was the point of being clever and hardworking and not knowing what to do?

Unu could see her disappointment. “No, no, Casey, you’re right. They’re not paid to walk the other team.” It was better when she was trash talking. Casey could be so easily discouraged. Unu cupped his mouth and yelled at the television, “C’mon, you losers. Start playing some ball!” She wasn’t cheered up, though, and he put his arm around her shoulder.