Puerile, antediluvian, and cupidity

"Money and status can't be the only things that matter to you," she insisted.

"No, of course they're not," he said. "But I have everything else I want. I have you, we have Evan, we have this house and our health and all that stuff. So I'm working for the rest."

"But in working so hard to attain what you don't have, you're neglecting the things that you do. Maybe you can't have it all, Jack."

He snorted. "Of course I can."

She noted that that he used the first person, whereas she'd been speaking to a general collective "you." Sighing quietly, she walked to her dresser and began to put away the laundry she'd brought up. "We don't need anymore money, you know."

"Need isn't the issue," he said. He stood up from his desk and walked to the side of her dresser, facing her while she worked. "Don't you remember what it was like growing up? Always wanting something you couldn't have, couldn't afford? Wearing last year's trends because they had finally gone on sale. Admiring the popular kids whose parents gave them anything and everything?"

Grace swallowed but said nothing. Yes, she remembered. But they were so far past that now, in their beautiful white home in River Oaks, with their Mercedes and their Lexus SUV, their maid service. Why couldn't he get past the past?

"I want to make sure Evan never has to feel the way we did, Grace. That's all." He kissed her on the forehead and returned to his desk.

And all Evan wants is for you to be home, she thought. But instead of saying it, she rolled up another pair of socks and dropped them into the top drawer.