You Think It, I'll Say It

by Curtis Sittenfeld

I had no idea, of course, that of all the feelings of my youth that would pass, it was this one, of an abundance of time so great as to routinely be unfillable, that would vanish with the least ceremony.

Grant, Molyneux, and Molyneux.

Corster, Lemp, Shreiberg, and Levine,

I wonder, of course—it’s my deepest secret, and would likely be guessable to even a distant acquaintance—if Jason married me for my money. Not only for my money, but if my income nudged me into some category of desirability I might not otherwise have attained. Jason is for the little guy, yes, but he has quietly expensive taste.