Mr. Bridge_ A Novel - Evan S. Connell [41]
Roosevelt, of course, was a poor choice, a man who already had damaged the structure of the economy, very possibly the worst president since Ulysses Grant. And if the voters responsible for him had not yet acknowledged their mistake they would be forced to soon enough. The unions were out of hand, Communists had gotten desks in the Labor Department, and there was the threat of increased taxes. These things were the result of Roosevelt’s New Deal, and the implications were serious. Mr. Bridge considered the future of the country and often discussed it. He found other men as angered and frustrated as he was himself, all of them helpless to alter this current of socialism. However, if one could imagine that Roosevelt and his left-wing advisers did not exist, or believe they would be thrown out of office at the next election, or at least come to their senses and modify their programs—well, then, life could not be much better.
The clouds that hung over Europe were not blowing away, yet nobody would forget the lesson of the World War. Nobody would be quick to start another war. And if that did happen it was not likely to involve America. Too many people remembered.
Meanwhile there was much to be thankful for. Money was not plentiful, and there was suffering; but for the majority of men who were industrious enough to work, who did not stand around on street corners complaining and waiting for the government to feed them, there was enough.
At midnight on New Year’s Eve at the country club a champagne glass shattered in the fireplace and the orchestra played “Auld Lang Syne.” Mr. Bridge lifted his glass in response to the toasts and remarked, as he brushed a sprinkle of confetti out of his hair, “Happy Days!”
47 Cousin Lulu’s Estate
Not long after New Year’s a letter arrived from an attorney in Tennessee stating that Mrs. Bridge and her children had been named to share in the estate of Lulu-belle Watts, recently deceased. Mrs. Bridge was very much distressed. “Poor thing,” she said again and again. “I had no idea Lulu had passed away.”
“Was she the goofy one?” Douglas asked.
“That’s the woman. That is the woman,” his father said.
“Well, she was sweet,” Mrs. Bridge said. “Oh, dear, 1 should have been nicer. The poor thing. I do feel guilty.”
“You were as nice to her as anyone could be. You have nothing to reproach yourself for. That woman was a borderline case. In my opinion she would have been better off in a mental institution.”
“How much do I get?” Carolyn asked.
“Now, Corky, I don’t know how much you ‘get,’ or how much any of the rest of us will ‘get.’ It doesn’t matter. We have enough to eat and we should be thankful. There are more important things in the world than money. Poor Lulu. I feel terrible. Whenever she wrote she asked about everybody. She thought so much of all of us, and she remembered everybody’s birthday. She never had a family of her own. I really should have invited her to visit us more often.”
“Once was enough,” said Mr. Bridge.
“I’m afraid it was a bit hectic,” Mrs. Bridge admitted. “But of course her health wasn’t good. It just seems to me that I didn’t do as much as I should have.”
“Under the circumstances, you did as much for her as anyone could reasonably be expected to do.”
“I suppose you’re right. I just feel so sorry for her.”
“Well, it’s too bad, but it happens to us all sooner or later.”
“Cut the gloom, will you?” Douglas said.
Mrs. Bridge sighed and shook her head. Reluctantly she picked up the letter. “How do I go about answering this?”
“Give it to me,” he said, and took it from her and put it in his pocket. “I’ll have Julia type up a response in the morning and bring it home for you to sign.”
Not long after that the word came back from Tennessee: Mrs. Bridge was to receive $2,222.22 while each of the children would receive $333.33.
“That woman,” said Mr. Bridge when they got this news. “If I told you once I told you