Page 78 - Too Much and Never Enough - Mary L. Trump

Fred envied and his older brother lacked, qualities that Fred planned to turn to his advantage.
Donald’s bid to replace my father at Trump Management was off to a strong start, but he was still at loose ends at home. Robert was at Boston University, which enabled him to avoid service in Vietnam, and Donald and Elizabeth didn’t socialize with each other. Freddy did his best to include his little brother in whatever he and his friends got up to, but it rarely went well. They were a laid-back group who loved flying out east with Freddy to fish and water-ski. They found Donald’s lack of humor and self-importance off-putting. Though they tried for Freddy’s sake to welcome his little brother, they didn’t like him.
Toward the end of Donald’s first year at Trump Management, the tension between him and Freddy was becoming noticeable. Though Freddy tried to leave it at the office, Donald never let anything go. Despite that, when Billy Drake’s girlfriend, Annamaria, was having a dinner party, Freddy asked if he could invite his brother.
The evening didn’t go much better than Donald’s attempted flirtation in the driveway years earlier. Shortly after the brothers arrived, raised voices drew Annamaria from the kitchen, where she was preparing dinner. She found Donald standing inches away from his brother, flushed and pointing his finger in Freddy’s face. Donald looked as though he were about to hit Freddy, so Annamaria pushed herself between the two very tall men.
Freddy took a step back and said through clenched teeth, “Donald, get out of here.”
Donald seemed stunned, then stormed away, saying, “Fine! You eat the girl’s roast beef!” as he slammed the door on his way out.
“Idiot!” Annamaria called after him. She turned back to Freddy and asked, “What was that about?”
Shaken, Freddy simply said, “Work stuff.” And they left it at that.
Things weren’t getting any better at the Highlander, either. Despite my mother’s fear of snakes, Dad brought home a ball python one day and put the tank into the den, forcing my mother to pass by it any time she needed to do laundry, go into my brother’s room, or leave the apartment. Their