“Well, my goodness,” LuAnne said, reaching for another napkin. “Is there any way we could find out? I mean, if Thurlow just thinks she’s overspending, we could at least reassure him. If he would listen to us.”
“Well, don’t say anything about this, because I don’t know if it’s a good idea or not. But Mildred is worried that Helen might be, well, I guess, addicted to that house. She’s thinking we ought to stage an intervention and get her back on track.”
LuAnne’s eyes lit up with interest. “Really? How would an intervention work?”
“I looked it up, and what you do is have the subject—that would be Helen—come to a meeting of family and friends without knowing their plan. Then everybody takes turns telling the subject what she or he is doing wrong and warns of the consequences of continuing to do it. Then, according to what I read, they’re supposed to immediately take the subject to rehab.”
“Rehab! I’ve never heard of a rehab place for spending too much.”
“I know,” I said tiredly. “And that’s certainly a problem. But I thought I’d run the idea past you, because of all of us, you’ve known Thurlow the longest.”
“Yes, I guess I have. We were in school together, although he was a couple of grades ahead of me. But, Julia, as long as I’ve known him, he’s always had money. I mean, that was the assumption—that his family was loaded. And he was the only child, so he inherited everything, including that house he grew up in. It was just his cantankerous character that made him live like a street bum. I think he enjoyed the contrast—knowing he had a lot, but acting like he didn’t.”
“Where did the family money come from?”
“I don’t know. They just always seemed to have it. And, Julia, they were highly thought of around town. His father was a state senator for several terms, and I can remember my mother thinking the world of his mother. She was a real lady, and every year she’d entertain the Abbotsville girls who’d been invited to make their debut at the Rhododendron Ball.” LuAnne’s eyes glowed with the memory. “I’ll never forget my year and that lovely supper dance she gave for us.” She blew out her breath and went on. “It’s hard to believe that Thurlow came from such stock, knowing what he’s like now.”
“Well, no longer ‘now’ because Helen has taken over. Even though she’s gotten rid of Thurlow’s dog, she’s making sure he’s taking his medicine, eating right, and has clean sheets on his bed. Thurlow’s bed, I mean, not the dog’s.”
Chapter 26
After I’d cautioned LuAnne against repeating anything I’d said about intervening in Helen’s control and distribution of Thurlow’s funds, I still went home worried that I’d said too much to the most talkative woman in town. I knew better than to tell LuAnne anything that wasn’t for general broadcasting, yet I’d let my concern get the better of me and had said too much. Trying to rectify my lapse, I’d warned LuAnne that if she passed it along, I would not only never tell her anything else ever again, I’d stop speaking to her entirely.
But who knew whom or what she’d tell? The thing to do, I concluded, was to urge Mildred to proceed with the intervention fairly soon if she was convinced that it had to be done. In other words, we should get it done before LuAnne could hold it in no longer.
But first things first, so I hurried home to call Mildred and tell her we’d better get on the phone right away.
“Mildred,” I said when she answered, “we’ve overlooked something. Madge’s tacky tea invitations have gone out, so we ought to call around and tell everybody that something better is in the offing—and do it before they RSVP Madge with an acceptance.”
“You think? I don’t care if they accept her invitation, just as long as they don’t show up for it and come to ours instead.”
“Oh, well, I don’t know how many will do that. I mean, there’re people who’ll feel obligated to go to Madge’s tea if they’ve said they will. They may not want to, but they’ll think they ought to.”
“You’re probably right,” Mildred agreed. “We should divide the list and make a few calls, I guess. We can tell each one to let somebody else know, and pretty soon the word will get around.”
“You don’t sound very concerned, so maybe I’m overly so. I just know that some will feel obligated to honor an acceptance.”
“Oh,” Mildred said with no concern at all, “they’ll change their minds. Just wait, Julia, because I’m already having my house decorated for the party. And for Christmas, of course. And a reporter and a photographer will be here in a couple of days from that beautiful new regional magazine Scenic. You’ve seen it, haven’t you? Anyway, they’re featuring my house in the next issue which will be out a week before our parties. I plan to play up both of our parties in the interview, and everybody will be eager to come—whether or not they’ve accepted Madge’s invitation.”
I had to laugh. “I should know better than to ever underestimate you, Mildred. You’re always two steps ahead of me. But, listen, are you sure they’ll have your house in the upcoming issue—before our parties? I thought those features were planned months in advance.”
“They probably are,” Mildred agreed with an air of complacency, “but I told them either now or never, and they jumped at it.”
“Well, good for you for thinking of it. Pictures of the interior of your house all decorated for Christmas will bring out our guests in droves. But, Mildred, I have to admit something to you, and I hope you won’t hate me for it.” I stopped, hesitating before telling her what
