No, not Helen Keller’s biography. That’s actually worth reading.
Some of you may have wondered at the lack of comment here on RNS about the John Edwards affair, considering that it’s been floating about the right side of the blogosphere for weeks now despite zero MSM coverage until today. Well, in my case it’s because I don’t really give a rat’s ass.
However, let it not be said that we of RNS don’t go the extra mile for you, our readers. So this past week I was browsing my favorite used bookstore, and found this book in the dollar rack. It’s alleged that the now infamous Rielle Hunter was, in her youth, the inspiration for the vapid, callous wastrel who narrates Mcinerney’s novel.
Here’s a typical bit. I’m not saying this sort of blackmail is what’s going on in the Edwards-Hunter scandal, but it’s fun to think so!
[Narrated by Alison, who needs cash for tuition and is not pregnant.]
I get Skip at his office. He doesn’t sound too thrilled to hear from me. He says he’s in a meeting, can he call me back?
I say no, I have to talk now.
What’s up? he says.
I go, I’m pregnant.
Total silence.
Before he can ask I tell him I haven’t slept with anybody else in six weeks. Which is totally true, almost. Close off that little escape hatch in his mind. Wham, bam, thank you ma’am.
He goes, you’re sure? He sounds like he’s just swallowed a bunch of sand.
I’m sure, i say.
He’s like, what do you want to do?
The thing about Skip is that even though he’s an asshole, he’s also a gentleman. Actually a lot of the assholes I know are gentlemen. Or vice versa. Dickheads with a family crest and a prep-school code of honor.
When I say I need money he asks how much.
A thousand, I say. I can’t believe I ask him for that much, I was thinking five hundred a minute ago, but hearing his voice pisses me off.
He asks if I want him to go with me and I say no, definitely not. Then he tries to do this number about making out the check directly to the clinic and I say, Skip, don’t give me that shit. I need five hundred in cash to make the appointment, I tell him, and I don’t want to wait six business days for the stupid check to clear, okay? Acting my ass off. My teacher would be proud.
Two hours later a messenger arrives with the money. Cash. I give him a ten-dollar tip.