Dear Francine,
Some horrible news, and I hate to spring this on you, but you must know what just happened.
Just a few hours ago I had an after-school appointment at my facialist’s, and as I was grading shorthand notebooks, waiting for my appointment in the common waiting room, I was startled to receive a gentle tap on my shoulder. It was your sweetie, Jack. Apparently, he had an appointment with his allergist. We barely had time to exchange hello’s when he was called in. We never saw each other again that day because I was called in shortly thereafter.
To make a long story short, I stopped by the pharmacy on the way home to pick up a prescription, and I ran into your “dearly beloved” mother-in-law. I let it slip that I just ran into Jack as he was going into his allergist’s.
Well, I have seen the original version of Jekyll and Hyde starring Lon Chaney, but I have never in my life seen a more Jekyll and Hyde transformation than seeing Mrs. Maxwell go from a docile, placid, poised Republican chairwoman in a butter yellow knit suit to a raging, steaming, nostril-flaring madwoman. Francine, I kid you not, she flew INTO A RAGE!
I actually recoiled in fear.
The pharmacist literally ran from the dispensary and brought smelling salts because he thought Mrs. Maxwell, after her rage-fueled heaving, was going to faint. Francine, I can’t really recall what she was saying because it was just a stream of angry, nonsensical statements, interrupted by heavy breathing, inhaling and exhaling, and head shaking.
Your mother-in-law, in public, accused YOU of trying to KILL JACK!
The pharmacist, the elderly gentleman, temporarily filling in for Dr. Mills, escorted Mrs. Maxwell to the back office. He motioned for me to come with them. Mrs. Maxwell seemed to calm down, and then she began with the sobbing.
Mrs. Maxwell said that she was afraid that Jack’s long work hours, work-related stress, poor nutritional habits (from eating too much salty food at the club) combined with the filth and the dust in your home, were going to kill him. She blamed your going back to work for all the above, and said if Jack were to die, I would be complicit in his death. She would have you arrested and Jack’s partners charge you with his murder.
According to your mother-in-law, if Jack’s allergies go unchecked, he could stop breathing, collapse and fall into a coma and might never recover. Apparently, when he was a young boy, Jack’s allergies were so severe that he had to go into a sanatorium for a year? You never told me about that!
The pharmacist gave Mrs. Maxwell something (he winked at me as he handed her a Dixie cup). Within seconds, she became woozy, and reclined on the office sofa. He had her home phone number on file and was able to reach her girl. Racine is her name? She drove over and picked Mrs. Maxwell up and took her home. I am only telling you all this not to upset you, but so you will be prepared for Jack’s return home.
You know that Mrs. Maxwell’s accusations are ludicrous. You know that you keep a tidy and lovely home. What to do? Maybe nothing? Mrs. Maxwell’s pathetic display was just that. All who witnessed her theatrics just shook their heads in either disgust or pity. She truly looked like a madwoman. I’m truly sorry that you bear the brunt of her rage, misery, and frustration.
You will rise above this latest incident, my dear, as you always seem to do. I remember the words of your favorite creed. Once again, you will,
“Be too large for worry, too noble for anger, too strong for fear, and too happy permit the presence of trouble.”
