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Show Woodworth/30 wine glass, holding it steady between Ned's plate and his mouth. He pours more into her already half-filled glass. They talk about Megan. Will it matter if she never has a college degree? Do women really need to go to college? Can a woman, can Megan, have a career? "It's a tough world," Ned says. "And I don't know why you kids are so gung-ho on making it tougher. Heading right for the most competitive, least well-paid jobs. That kind of impracticality, you must have gotten from your mother." He smiles at Ruth. "Megan takes after you," Ruth says. "She has that scientific mind. Marty is more like me." Her mother turns to her. "She's sensitive. Megan's sensitive, too. But Party's more of an artist." Those same blue eyes again. Marty feels like she is looking through a time warp, into a mirror at her own face in thirty years. This compliment is an apology, the closest her mother ever comes to talking about their fights. "Either way, I can't see howveither of them is ever going to support themselves. Jeez, Marts, think of the money you've put into all that photography stuff. Do you even use that stuff • anymore? What about those paintings we've got lying around in the basement. Think you could sell any of those?" "I'm making money now, Dad. At the book store. I can support myself, doing stuff like that. As soon as I get some money saved, I'll move out and stop being a financial burden, if that's what you want." "That's not what I'm saying." Ned refills his wine glass, checks Ruth's glass. Half full. He sets the bottle down. Ruth reaches for it immediately, fills her own glass to the brim. "I suppose the answer is the same as it always has been. But all |