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Her father had insisted on this point, that George’s inheritance would not be put under her future husband’s name.

That it would remain hers. “For two reasons,” he told George when he explained his will, when his death (not to mention a future husband) seemed an impossibility and the discussion was, to George’s mind, both theoretical and distressing.

“First, you’ll never have to worry about any man’s intentions.

If they find out they won’t have charge of it—and it’s a lot of money, Georgeanne, more than you may realize right now—and they run, well, better for you.

Second, it’ll give you more power in your marriage.

You may not realize this, but your mother and I—ours is not the most conventional of marriages. ”

George had stifled a laugh. From the time she started school, she’d overheard numerous adults and even some of her childhood friends express bafflement at Charles Ector’s abdication of his role as head of the household.

Of Adele Ector’s shocking independence and waywardness.

“We aren’t equal in all things, but we each rule ourselves, and we take turns ruling the other.

It must sound odd, but it has”—and here her father’s voice had trailed off wistfully—“been rather wonderful ... Point is, George, we want the same for you. Money is power—you’ll see someday.

Money gives you leverage. I see what the world does, how it wants to tamp down women like your mother and make them something less than what they are.

Even a good man can fall prey to that desire.

Keeping it all in your name makes it less likely that the man you marry will be tempted to make less of you. ”

Once Tom started making noise about her loans to Vivian, George saw the wisdom of her father’s plan.

She stopped telling her husband about her financial arrangements with Vivian, and he was too proud to ask what she did with money that wasn’t his to control.

The problem hadn’t exactly gone away—it had just laid itself low.

Making room for a different set of problems.

“I wouldn’t want to cause trouble, is all,” said Frank, provoking George, who had just spent the last hour naked with him, to laugh until her stomach ached.

When at last they pulled themselves together and she nestled back against him, she said, “Look, I want to do it. Even if I didn’t know you, I’d want to do it.

And if you’re worried about how Tom will feel about it, well, as I said, I make my own decisions, some of which I don’t even tell him about.

” Two months earlier she’d loaned Vivian another thousand.

The only difference with investing in Frank, as far as George could see, was that she’d at least have a chance of earning a return on her investment.

“If it all goes south,” said Frank, “you’ll hate me.”

“I could never hate you. But I will punish you by not sleeping with you ever again.”

Frank pulled her on top of him. “You do know how to motivate a man.”

“I knew it was only a matter of time,” said Helen.

“He just needed to get back on his feet.” Frank’s subdivision had gone up cheaply, thanks to the postwar glut of labor and building supplies, and the houses—three bedroom, two bath, with carports and nice big yards—sold easily.

Frank’s picture graced the business page of the News & Eagle , and Helen threw a party to celebrate.

The Bridlemiles were shopping for a bigger house.

“Something closer to the country club,” said Helen.

She’d taken up golf and tennis and badgered George to join her.

“To Frank.” Tom raised his glass, and everyone else followed.

“The man with the plan that paid off. Congrats, buddy.” Neither Tom nor Helen knew yet that George had provided the capital for Frank’s project.

George never found the right moment to tell either of them.

Mentioning it at this celebratory dinner felt like it would take something away from Frank.

“I was thinking,” she said to Tom as they drove home, “I might put some of my Ector money into Frank’s next project.”

“You think there’ll be a next one?” scoffed Tom. “Not if Helen can help it. She’d rather he spent Monday through Friday sitting in an insurance office and Saturday at the club.”

George knew Frank was already drawing up plans for another development. “We could even build you an airfield,” Frank said. “Bring Vivian down to run it.”

But she liked having distance between herself and Vivian.

Well, really between the girls and Vivian.

Too much time spent with Vivian meant too much opportunity for Ruth and Ivy to compare their glamorous aunt with their boring mother.

Too much time spent with the girls and Vivian might act on whatever regret she must harbor.

Too much time spent with the girls and Vivian might bring George’s carefully constructed family life crashing down.

The irony of worrying about her family life disintegrating as she wrapped her bare legs around Frank’s waist and pulled him toward her wasn’t lost on her.

“I don’t want an airfield,” she murmured as she applied kittenish licks to his ear. “I think I’ll start with just a plane.”