The Decent Proposal Read Online Free PDF Page A

were invariably “fine Dad, fine.”) The Wednesday call had been an aberration. Richard knew his accountant father would still be at work, but his stay-at-home mom had been—true to her profession—at home, and after telling her in a breathless manner about the Decent Proposal, he sat back, enjoying the stunned silence. He could practically hear the gears whirring inside her head.
    â€œYou’re not actually considering it?” she asked him finally.
    â€œWhy not?” he asked, playing dumb for his own amusement.
    â€œBecause it isn’t safe!” she wailed.
    Richard’s amusement turned instantly to exasperation: a conjuring trick only his mother was capable of performing. He huffed like a five-year-old. When Richard was five, he remembered looking up—literally up—to impossibly tall high schoolers, wondering what it would feel like to be all grown up like them. Somewhere in his junior year he realized his error: college was where adulthood truly began. So it was during his graduation ceremony at Amherst that he readjusted his expectations once again, assuring himself that at some point in his twenties it would happen: that magical moment when he would become an adult . And now here he was, on the cusp of thirty fucking years old and still he felt like a child, especially in moments like this—of involuntary petulance directed toward the loving mother he knew only wanted what was best for him. And yet he could do nothing to stop himself. The phone call had ended unsatisfactorily on both sides, and when his parents had called him a few hours later he wasn’t surprised, though the last time they’d gotten on the line together like this was to tell him his grandmother had died.
    â€œIs this an intervention?” he joked.
    â€œWe’re just concerned, Richie,” his mother began. “It’s so odd . You don’t even know this woman—”
    â€œShe doesn’t know me either.”
    â€œIf you really need the money,” his father cut in, “maybe we can figure something out.”
    â€œI’m fine ,” snapped Richard.
    â€œSo you always say. You win the lottery or something? Not tell us?”
    â€œMaybe we should fly out there,” his mother suggested.
    â€œThat’s stupid,” he said. “You were just here.” His parents always visited him in April to bridge the gap between his holiday and summer visits to Massachusetts—visits they paid for, since he was unable to cover the airfare himself. “Stop worrying,” he commanded them. “It’s not like I made up my mind or anything.”
    And yet it was only after making this statement that he realized he had made up his mind. Because obviously they had to do it. Obviously. It was almost too good to be true . . . but only almost. Richard was already imagining the wide eyes and open mouths he’d leave in his wake for the next year and beyond; he’d become the best general meeting in town. Maybe he’d even spin the Decent Proposal into a movie. He had no idea who had chosen him, or why, but he felt certain he’d been chosen wisely and he was eager to reap his reward—not only for the money, but for the adventure , for the story , in a life that had been stagnant for too long.
    WHEN ELIZABETH COULD see again, he was beckoning excitedly with one hand raised high. Some of the people at the tables around him were looking at her too. She guessed they were idly curious to see who belonged to the good-looking stranger. This, then, was what it was like to be one of those people, the ones whom others noticed in a crowd. A flair of excitement licked greedily at her insides, nearly causing her to spill her cappuccino. Calm down , she urged herself, unwilling to betray her unobserved life, her unmolested freedom. It was the weekend, and for once she didn’t have to go into the office; she should have been spending her precious free