How I Paid for College: A Novel of Sex, Theft, Friendship & Musical Theater by Marc Acito

revolves around the idea that since men's bodies don't shut down the baby-making mechanism the way women's do, middle-aged men facing their mortality feel an increased biological need to propagate the species. As a result they start screwing around on their wives with younger, more fertile women.
    “It's not like they want to have more children, although sometimes that happens, too,” Kathleen explains, pouring herself another spritzer. “It's more that by choosing a new, younger wife, a man effectively has another child, but one he can sleep with, too.”
    “But Dagmar's not young,” I say, “she's your age.”
    That didn't come out the way I wanted it to.
    “Doesn't matter,” Kathleen says, swirling her spritzer. “She's
like
a child, because she needs his support.” Kathleen's never been one to let something as inconsequential as the facts get in the way of one of her theories.
    “So what should I do?” I say. Okay, maybe I whine a little but I've got a right. I'd say Dagmar pulled the rug right out from underneath me, except she got rid of all the rugs.
    Kathleen stands. “You've got to prove to him that you are a man yourself,” she says. “The time for relating to him as a dependent child is over. Show him that you don't need his help, that you are perfectly capable of paying for college on your own.”
    “But I'm not perfectly capable of paying for college on my own.”
    Kathleen leans across the table and the light from the stained-glass lamp shines bright on her taut, freckled face. “Edward, don't ever let me hear you say that again, do you understand? You
are
perfectly capable of paying for college on your own and you will. You have to.” She pulls up a chair and takes my hands in hers. “Listen, sweetie, I know it seems bleak and you feel betrayed and scared. But the only way out of a situation like this is through it.” She strokes my face lightly with one finger. “So many things could happen between now and then, but what I know is this: you've got strengths you're not even aware of yet and you are going to be amazed at what you can do when this is all over. I believe in you; not just in your talent, but in you yourself. There is so much more to you than you even realize, I promise.”
    There are moments in your life when you see yourself through someone else's eyes, when your only hope of believing you're capable of doing something is because someone else believes it for you.
    This is one of those moments.
    “I've got to get out of these wet clothes,” she says. “We'll talk again, okay?” She gets up to leave, but then turns and looks back at me. “Remember what I said, Edward. I'm on your side.”
    Kathleen.

    I put Kathleen's glass in the sink and am startled when a voice behind me says, “Jeez, herpes. Gross.”
    I turn around. “Natie, don't you have any respect for privacy?”
    “Not particularly,” he says, “and it's a good thing, too, 'cuz you're going to need my help.”
    Kelly comes back in and nuzzles against me. “You okay?” she asks.
    “Don't distract him,” Natie says. “We've got work to do. I've got it all outlined.” He slides a piece of notebook paper across the kitchen table. “Take a look.” It reads:
     
    WAYS FOR EDWARD TO PAY FOR COLLEGE
     
    1) WORK
    2) SCHOLARSHIPS
    3) THEFT
    4) MURDER
     
    “Murder?” I say. “This is a viable choice?”
    “Don't get ahead of yourself. I'm just examining all your options.” He puts on his glasses. “Let's start with number one: work.”
    Just hearing the word makes me tense up. “It doesn't seem right that someone as talented as me should actually have to work,” I say.
    “You work,” Kelly says. “We're getting paid to choreograph
Anything Goes.”
    “That's right, we are.”
    “Terrific,” says Natie, clicking his pen. “How much are you getting?”
    “Five hundred dollars.”
    Natie writes down $500.
    “No, no, no,” I say, “that's for the two of us.”
    Natie scratches out $500 and writes