“I’m not threatening anything. I’m just saying Derek’s creditors are aware of his family situation, and they’re willing to be very creative about debt collection.”
After she hung up, I didn’t sit around feeling sorry for myself. At sixty-eight, I had learned that wallowing in self-pity was a luxury I couldn’t afford.
Instead, I called Patricia.
“Margaret, do you know what time it is?”
“Patricia, I need you to do something first thing tomorrow morning. I want you to set up a trust.”
“What kind of trust?”
“The kind that puts every penny of that farm money beyond Derek’s reach, no matter what happens to me.”
There was a pause.
“Margaret, are you all right? You sound different.”
“I’m not scared, Patricia. I’m angry. And when I get angry, I get very creative about solving problems.”
“What kind of creative?”
“The kind that’s going to teach my son that threatening his mother was the biggest mistake he ever made.”
Because Derek and Tiffany had made one crucial mistake in all their planning.
They assumed I was just a helpless old woman who would fold under pressure.
They clearly did not know me very well.
Tuesday morning, I discovered just how serious Derek and Tiffany were about their threats. By eight o’clock, half the town had heard about my supposed mental decline.
Frank knocked on my door before I had finished my first cup of coffee.
“Maggie, there’s some nasty talk going around town. You need to know what people are saying.”
“Let me guess. I’m going senile, hiding money from my poor devoted son, and probably killed my husband for the insurance money.”
Frank’s face answered the question.
“How did you know?”
“Because I know exactly who’s spreading it, and why.”
My phone had been ringing since six. Old friends calling with barely concealed curiosity, wanting to hear my side. Neighbors offering help with “difficult family situations.” Even the church secretary, wanting to know if I needed someone to assist with my finances.
Each conversation was a careful little dance. People fishing for information while pretending to offer support.
In a small town, gossip spreads faster than wildfire and burns twice as hot.
But at sixty-eight, I had learned that sometimes the best defense is a good offense.
I called Ruby.
“Ruby, remember that investigating you did for me? I need you to share what you found.”
“Honey, are you sure? Once this gets out, there’s no taking it back.”
“I’m sure. People deserve to know the truth about Derek and Tiffany’s financial situation before they start feeling too sorry for them.”
Ruby went to work with the efficiency of a military operation.
By three o’clock, word was spreading through town about Derek’s gambling debts, Tiffany’s maxed-out credit cards, and their desperate attempt to steal their elderly mother’s money.
The tide of public opinion shifted faster than I expected.
At four, I got a call from Dr. Phillips.
“Margaret, I’ve had some disturbing conversations today. Several people have asked me about your mental state. Your cognitive function. Someone’s been suggesting you’re not competent to manage your own affairs.”
“What did you tell them?”
“The truth. That you’re in excellent health and sharp as ever. But Margaret, I’m concerned about what’s behind these inquiries.”
“Family greed, doctor. Nothing more complicated than that.”
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