“Marjorie, by the time I knew of it, it was a fait accompli.”
“So I hear. Brian, ever since I got home I have been hoping that someone would explain to me what happened. According to Vickie none of this was ever settled in family council. Anita refused to let Ellen bring her beloved home. The rest of Ellen’s parents either did not know or did not interfere with Anita’s, uh, cruelty. Yes, cruelty. Whereupon the child got married. Whereupon Anita compounded her initial cruelty by a grave injustice: She refused Ellen her birthright, her share of the family’s wealth. Is all this true?”
“Marjorie, you were not here. The rest of us-six out of seven- acted as wisely as we could in a difficult situation. I don’t think it is proper of you to come along afterwards and criticize what we have done-upon my word, I don’t.”
“Dear, I don’t mean to offend you. But my very point is that six of you have not done anything. Anita, acting alone, has done things that seem to me to be cruel and unjust. . . and the rest of you stood aside and let her get away with it. No family decisions, just Anita’s decisions. If this is true, Brian-and correct me if I’m wrong-then I feel compelled to ask for a full executive session of all husbands and wives to correct this cruelty by inviting Ellen and her husband to visit home, and to correct the injustice by paying to Ellen her fair share of the family’s wealth, or at least to acknowledge the debt if it can’t be liquidated at once. Will you tell me your opinion of that?”
Brian drummed his nails on the tabletop. “Marjorie, that’s a simplistic view of a complex situation. Will you admit that I love Ellen and have her welfare in mind quite as much as you do?”
“Certainly, darling!”
“Thank you. I agree with you that Anita should not have refused to let Ellen bring her young man home. Indeed, if Ellen had seen him against the background of her own home, with its gentle ways and its traditions, she might well have decided that he was not for her. Anita stampeded Ellen into a foolish marriage-and I have told her so. But the matter cannot be immediately corrected by inviting them here. You can see that. Let’s agree that Anita should receive them warmly and graciously . . . but it’s God’s own truth that she won’t-if she has them shoved down her throat.”
He grinned at me and I was forced to grin in return. Anita can be charming. . . and she can be incredibly cold, rude, if it suits her.
Brian went on: “Instead, I’ll have reason to make a trip to Tonga in a couple of weeks and this will let me get well acquainted without having Anita at my elbow-”
“Good! Take me along-pretty please?”
“It would annoy Anita.”
“Brian, Anita has considerably more than annoyed me. I won’t refrain from visiting Ellen on that account.”
“Mmm. . . would you refrain from doing something that might damage the welfare of all of us?”
“If it were pointed out to me, yes. I might ask for explanation.”
“You will have it. But let me deal with your second point. Of course Ellen will get every penny that is coming to her. But you will concede that there is no urgency about paying it to her. Hasty marriages often do not last long. And, while I have no proof of it, it is quite possible that Ellen has been taken in by a fortune hunter. Let’s wait a bit and see how anxious this chap is to lay hands on her money. Isn’t that prudent?”
I had to admit it. He continued: “Marjorie, my love, you are especially dear to me and to all of us because we see too little of you. It makes each of your trips home a fresh honeymoon for all of us. But, because you are away most of the time, you don’t understand why the rest of us are always careful to keep Anita soothed down.”
“Well- No, I don’t. It should work both ways.”