Miss Julia Paints the Town (3 page)

“Now, LuAnne,” I cautioned, “you don't know that there's anybody else. I can't imagine there would be. Leonard's not the flighty kind, and I've never seen him give any woman a second look.” Barely a first one, if the truth be known.

“You're not hearing me, Julia,” LuAnne said, smacking her knee with a fist. “Leonard has
needs.
He may be looking for space, but he'll fill it as soon as he can.” Her whole body began to shake.

“Oh, LuAnne, I'm so sorry. But if I were you, I'd just let him go and let him find out how much he needs you.” I took her hand in mine and pressed on. “I hate to see you torn up like this. Leonard can't get along without you, and it's not going to take any time for him to find that out.”

“Julia,” she said, taking a deep breath, “I'm going to tell you something I've never told a living soul. And if you repeat it, I'll never speak to you again.”

“Of course I won't repeat it,” I said, drawing back in offense. Between the two of us,
I
was not the gossip.

“Well, you better not.” LuAnne bit her lip as her flinty eyes probed the room. “This is just between you and me. And Leonard, of course, but he won't know that you know.” She glanced at me, then looked down at her hands. “Leonard wants to…you know, all the time, and I mean almost every night. He nearly wears me out, but I know that some men have stronger needs than others, and Leonard's one of them.”

“
Every
night?” I whispered, almost struck dumb by the thought.

“Well, it's gotten worse since he retired and started taking that medicine. He doesn't have enough to occupy him, you know, so it weighs on his mind.”

I glanced across the room at the hall door that led to our bedroom, wondering if Sam's behavior would change when he finished his legal history. Lord, I'd have to think of something else he could research.

“My word, LuAnne, I don't know what to say.” Except, if it were me, I'd be glad he'd moved out.

“Wait a minute,” I said, recalling a similar scene from the past. “Didn't you have the opposite trouble with him a couple of years ago? I mean, when he had no interest at all in, well, in what we're talking about?” I clearly remembered LuAnne sitting on this very sofa lamenting Leonard's total lack of what she called
needs.
At the time, not long after Wesley Lloyd's passing and my discovery of his secret life in which he'd pursued needs that I'd never known he had, I'd not been all that sympathetic with LuAnne's loss of marital comforts. As far as I'd been concerned, she would've been better off without a husband at all, since my own husband had betrayed and abandoned me.

But now that I had Sam, my views on marriage and the comforts therein had undergone a change, and the thought of how I'd feel if he suddenly wanted some space made me ache for LuAnne. Of course, Leonard was no Sam, so it was hard to see why she'd want to hold on to him.

“You're right,” LuAnne said, nodding. “He did go through a little spell when I would've done anything for a little affection. I mean, there was nothing, nothing at all for the longest time. But when he went on that medicine, well, it's just been constant.” She looked at me to see how I was taking this intimate information. “It's been either feast or famine.”

“Well, it seems to me that his doctor could regulate that medication. You should be able to reach a happy medium somewhere. Or just take his medicine away from him. I bet he'd settle down then.”

She shook her head. “He'd just get more of it. That doctor he sees over in Asheville thinks he's a real success story. But I'll tell you this, Julia, I think Leonard's sick, I mean, really sick. No man in his right mind would be trying to find himself at his age. Why, he's pushing seventy, which is just asking for a stroke or a heart attack.”

“That's a dangerous age,” I said, almost to myself. Everybody thought that the forties was the age that men started to stray, but from what I'd seen, the older they were the closer you had to watch them. And add a little medication to the mix, and you'd have a man with more than a gleam of recaptured youth in his eye.

“I know it is.” LuAnne blew her nose. “You wouldn't believe all the old men who have come on to me.”

“
Who?”

She waved her hand in dismissal. “I think Leonard's going through the change, like a lot of them do. And he can just suffer through it like I did. He might have his eye on some other woman, but by the time I get through telling all I know, she won't have hers on him.”

“Now that's the way to think,” I said, wanting to encourage her. “Just keep your wits about you and look at it rationally. And think of this, LuAnne, half of his retirement money is yours. Let him try to manage two households on his pension and see how he likes it. I'll be surprised if he lasts a week without you.”

She was silent for a few minutes, thinking over what I'd said. Then in a quiet voice, she said, “I'm not sure I'd want him back, if he came just because he couldn't afford another place.”

“I wouldn't, either.”

“But, oh, what am I going to do without him?” And she dissolved into tears, rocking back and forth and moaning.

Well, Lord, I didn't know, except I'd done fairly well in the same circumstances. And not just fairly well—I'd done better than I'd ever done in my life. But she wasn't ready to hear that.

“How am I going to hold my head up, Julia?” LuAnne said, as she pressed the wet remnants of a Kleenex to her mouth. “Everybody'll know that he left me for somebody else. They'll think something's wrong with me. Nobody'll know how I've tried to please and satisfy him. All they'll see is him off with somebody else while I'm sitting home alone—an abandoned wife is what I'll be. I can't stand the thought of it.”

I was about to lose any sympathy at all for her. I'd gone through much worse, and I'd never cried and moaned on anybody's shoulder. I'd made sure that nobody knew the trouble in my soul. I'd handled the pain and shame on my own and had never let anybody see how much it had hurt. So I wanted to shake LuAnne and tell her to dredge up some dignity from somewhere. Why try to hang on to somebody who wanted to be gone? Say good-bye and good riddance, and get on with your life.

But LuAnne wasn't the kind of person you could say that to. The appearance of a good marriage was more important to her than whatever went on inside it.

Hearing the swish of the swinging door from the kitchen, I looked up to see Hazel Marie walking through the dining room. When she saw LuAnne with her face buried in her hands, Hazel Marie stopped, her mouth dropping open. She gave me a questioning look, then turned and tiptoed back out.

LuAnne lifted her head and straightened her shoulders. “I'll tell you one thing, though,” she said with sudden resolve as she dried her face. “I'm not going to take it lying down. Leonard Conover is not going to play me for a fool. I'll make sure that everybody in town knows what a randy old goat he is. He won't be able to hold his head up by the time I get through.” Her fist came down on the sofa this time. “And I'm going to start with the pastor. We'll just see how Leonard likes being drummed off the diaconate for adultery!”

She stood up, preparing to go immediately across the street to the First Presbyterian Church where Pastor Ledbetter reigned supreme.

“But you don't know that, LuAnne,” I said. “I can't believe that Leonard's taken up with anybody. But,” I hurried on as she turned an angry gaze on me, “talking to the pastor is a good idea.” I wasn't sure that it was, though, because getting the pastor on Leonard's case could backfire on her. If the pastor laid a load of guilt on Leonard and pushed him back into a marriage he no longer wanted, what good would that do LuAnne?

Well, probably a lot, given LuAnne's concern with simply having a husband of any kind at her side. I felt a deep tug of pity for her since I now knew what a real marriage could be.

As LuAnne stood before my Chippendale mirror and began to repair some of the damage to her face, I heard the telephone ring in the kitchen. Since both Hazel Marie and Lillian were nearby, I ignored it and went on trying to encourage LuAnne.

“I'm sure things will work out,” I said, patting her back. “Leonard will realize how much you mean to him, and he'll be back. Why, LuAnne, he may even be thrilled to come home. This little episode may be just the thing to rejuvenate your marriage.”

She gave me a withering look. “It's not just a little episode, Julia, and I resent you calling it that. My whole life is being torn apart and here you are, acting like it's nothing at all.”

“Well, I'm sorry,” I said, taken aback. “I didn't mean to downplay it, you know I didn't. I'm just trying to find a bright side to all of this.”

“There
is
no bright side.” She snapped her pocketbook closed and stomped toward the door. “The pastor will know what to do, even if nobody else does. The only good thing about having troubles: You learn who your
real
friends are.”

And out she went, leaving me stunned, though I shouldn't have been. I always seemed to say the wrong thing to her, even with the best will in the world. As I closed the door behind her, I leaned my head against the wall, wishing I'd been able to find the right words to say. Lord knows, I knew what it was to have an errant husband. And I'm certainly not referring to Sam.

“Miss Julia?” Lillian came into the living room. “Telephone for you. She don't say who it is, but I think it that Miz Stroud.”

“Helen?” I said, as I pressed the phone to my ear, anxious to hear her voice.

“Who?”

“Is this Helen?”

“No, Julia, it's Mildred, your neighbor. Remember me?”

“Oh, Mildred,” I said, trying to cover the disappointment I felt. I'd lived next door to Mildred Allen for years and should've recognized her voice. “I'm sorry. I was hoping it was Helen, not that I'm not glad to hear from you, but, well, you know.”

She sighed. “I do know, and that's why I'm calling. I was having breakfast in bed and reading the paper when I came across the article about Richard. And it has just floored me. Who would've thought he was a thief? I mean, he was so nice, always a gentleman and, if anybody could be such a thing in Abbotsville, suave, wouldn't you say?”

“Yes, I guess I would.” But I had to think about it.
Suave
was not a word I'd normally associate with anybody in Abbotsville. But Richard Stroud had always appeared to be the most thoughtful of men, treating Helen with the utmost courtesy. A lot of men make an effort to be thoughtful of women in general, but ignore their wives. Not Richard. He treated Helen as if she were a queen, and many of her friends threw Richard up to their own husbands as a model to be emulated. Which didn't make him all that well liked by the men in our circle. But maybe that's too strong. It wasn't that they didn't like him—he was, after all, successful in his business and that's always admired. His real estate business, I mean, not his estate planning business, as we had all just learned.

“Julia,” Mildred went on, “I'm going to tell you something that I don't want you to repeat. If you tell anybody, I'll never speak to you again.”

“I'm not in the habit of breaking a confidence, Mildred. You know me better than that.”

“Yes, well, that's why I called you. I have to tell somebody, because it's just eating me up.” She paused, took a breath, then as if she could hold it no longer, went on in a rush. “I invested with him.”

“You did? Oh, Mildred, how much? No, wait, I didn't mean to ask that. I mean, was it a little or a lot?”

“Well, it depends on how you look at it,” she said. “To some people it might seem a lot. For me, I'd say it was maybe a medium amount.”

“Oh, my,” I murmured, for Mildred Allen was one of the wealthiest women in town. She had inherited old money, which was much more respectable than the new money that had come to me, although when it comes down to it, money is money, regardless of its age. But, knowing her financial status, I knew that a medium amount to her would choke your average horse. “Well, since we're having true confessions here, I'll admit that I did, too.”

“You did? You don't know how much better that makes me feel, Julia. Everybody knows how good Sam is with money, so if he recommended Richard, I don't feel so foolish.”

“You might as well go ahead and feel foolish, because I did it on my own. Although I'd call my investment a small amount, certainly compared to yours. Still and all, I don't want to lose it. Now, Mildred, Sam doesn't know a thing about it, and I want to keep it that way. So don't you tell him.”

“I won't say a word. But do you think they'll put investors' names in the paper?”

“I hadn't thought of that.” I pictured a list of the names of prominent people on the front page and cringed. “Surely they won't. Wouldn't they have to have our permission?”

“I don't know, but I'm about ready to sue somebody and if Richard can't be found, why, I'll just sue whoever's left.”

I let the silence lengthen as I thought about that. Then as her meaning became clear, I said, “You can't mean Helen? Mildred, I can't believe she had anything to do with whatever he's done.”

“Maybe not, but they own property and that house of theirs would go a long way toward returning what he's stolen from me.”

“Oh, Mildred, you wouldn't sell Helen's house out from under her, would you?”

“If that's what it takes, then that's what it takes. Besides, I only invested with Richard because of her. I think the world of Helen and wanted to show it by supporting him. She has to take the bad along with the good, like we all do when it comes to husbands.”

“Not necessarily,” I said with some asperity. “What if Helen didn't know what he was doing? What if he's fooled her, too? It's not right to punish her, just because Richard's gone and she's not.”

“It's just business, Julia. I would expect the same treatment if Horace did something like that and, believe me, people would be after me in a shot if he did. That's why I don't let him get within a mile of my assets.”

It was a well-known fact in town that Horace Allen hadn't cracked a lick at a snake ever since he'd married Mildred years ago. Oh, he'd piddled with first one thing and another, but never in a forceful way. Mainly because Mildred kept him on a short financial leash, and he seemed content enough to be her consort rather than her partner. Over the years, Mildred had intimated to me that she doled out clothes money and spending money to him, along with just enough to allow him to dabble in flipping a run-down house or two every now and then. Actually, though, the only real job Horace had ever had was being Mildred's husband, but his pay could hardly be commensurate with the demands of the job.

I drummed my fingers on the countertop after hanging up the phone, distressed by Mildred's threat to sue Helen. If that was the first thought Mildred had had, wouldn't the other investors soon come up with the same idea?

Lord, I couldn't bear the thought of Helen being stripped of everything she owned. Then I realized, as I mused about it, that I didn't know if Helen owned anything. Some men put all their assets in their names alone, and Richard may have been one of them. It might have made it easier when he was buying and selling property not to have to run home every time to get her signature.

So if Helen got sued, the suers would still end up with nothing. Of course, Helen would, too, which might be exactly what she had now. Except she'd end up with an added load of shame for being taken to court.

I could've wrung Richard's neck. Well, and Helen's too, if she'd taken off with him.

“You want some coffee?” Lillian held the pot over a cup, ready to pour. “You look like you need some.”

“Yes, I do, Lillian. Thank you. I declare,” I said, sitting at the kitchen table, “this started out as a perfectly normal day and look what all has happened. Richard Stroud has apparently taken off with other people's money and his wife is nowhere to be found. And Mildred Allen is up in arms and ready to sue Helen, and Leonard Conover has left LuAnne to find himself and she's…Oh, my goodness,” I said, clamping my hand over my mouth, “I wasn't supposed to tell that. You have to keep it to yourself, Lillian. Don't tell a soul.”

“No'm,” she said, as she sat across the table from me and reached for the sugar bowl. “I don't never tell anything I hear in this house.”

“Well, good.” I picked up my cup and brought it to my mouth, then set it back down. “You know I don't normally tell everything I know, but knowing LuAnne, it'll be all over town by nightfall. Which doesn't excuse me, but it makes me feel a little better.”

“Uh-huh.” Lillian nodded, her attention on the sugar she was stirring in her coffee. She knew my friends and was interested in what happened to them, but she was rarely personally affected by whatever they did. So she was a good person to talk to, even though I'd promised not to talk to anybody. That didn't include Sam, though. I took it as a given that anything anybody told me would be shared with him. And here I'd told someone else.

Well, in for a penny…

“Lillian, can you believe that Leonard Conover had the gumption to just up and move out? As concerned as I am about Helen, that has just floored me. And LuAnne is a wreck. She's over at the church right now telling the pastor, but what he can do about it, I don't know.”

“Where he move out to?”

“I forgot to ask. But, Lillian, you won't believe what she told me about him.” I leaned across the table and whispered to her what LuAnne had said about Leonard's
needs.

“No!” she said, rearing back. “Mr. Conover? Why, he seem like a shy kinda man. I guess still water do run deep.”

“Well, something does. But don't you tell that, Lillian. LuAnne would have my neck if word got out. Of course,” I went on, looking off at the ceiling, thinking it through, “if he starts showing up with another woman, people'll know it wasn't himself he was trying to find.”

“Law, law,” Lillian said, shaking her head, “people do the foolishest things sometimes. But I don't know what you can do to help 'em, they start leavin' they wives an' stealin' folkses' money an' suin' they best friends.”

“I don't know, either, Lillian, but,” I said, rising from the table, “I'm going to try to get Helen again. Seems to me that she's the one who needs help the most. But I want to talk to Sam first.”

I went to the phone and dialed Sam's number. It rang and rang without an answer. “Where is he?” I mumbled. “James ought to be there, even if he's not.”

Shrugging it off, I dialed Helen's number, getting nothing but a busy signal. I hung up and turned to Lillian. “It's busy. Either she's left the phone off the hook, or her message machine is full. I don't know what to do, Lillian. I really want to talk to her and let her know I care about her.”

“Yessum, and you want to get yo' money back.”

I nodded. “That, too.”