But lately she had begun to think she had done Harry a disservice by staying. Perhaps he would be driving himself less hard, and would have a better sense of perspective, if she had relocated to some small town in the Midwest. And even if she was wrong about that—if this college mania had reached into the most remote pockets of America—at least a community of less means might have other sorts of benefits, like fewer kids with credit cards, or a lower percentage of luxury cars in the student parking lot.

Still, Grace tried hard not to let Harry’s preoccupation become her own. She knew there were hundreds of good colleges out there, some of which she had never even heard of before, like Yates. She had done just fine going to the University of Maryland, which had been the only school her parents could afford. It hand never occurred to her to feel shortchanged. She always felt she’d received a perfectly decent education and had not suffered, apart from the unfortunate fact that she had met Lou in an anatomy class and made the mistake of marrying him.

As it was, Harry was most definitely part of the problem, if
not the most extreme version of it around. He had
memorized the U.S. News & World Report rankings of the
top fifty liberal arts colleges as well as the separate
list of universities—those offering both doctorates
and masters—and he frequently asked Grace to
quiz him to see if he had his numbers straight.
At first Grace played along, not fully grasping
the point of the exercise. But once she
realized the pathos of what he was
doing—obsessing about whether
Pomona ranked 7 or 8 and how many
points that was above, say, Oberlin
(14)—she refused to play, even
when Harry insisted that he was
just sharpening his memory
retention skills.