Chapter 8
eight
Before calling Lulu with an invitation to spend the holidays with them, Rob did a bit of research on performing an intervention.
Then he called Justin Larsson from their church and arranged to meet him at the coffeehouse on Thursday.
Justin was one of a team of three pastors who also did family counseling—and someone who Jane seemed to respect.
Probably because the attractive younger pastor was always neatly dressed, in a buttoned-up sort of way.
“Thanks for meeting me.” Rob shook Justin’s hand and nodded to a chair. “I see you got your coffee.”
“How are you doing?” Justin asked as he sat.
“Well, to be honest, I’m feeling a little conflicted.”
“How so?”
“This has to do with my wife, Jane.” Rob suddenly felt like a betrayer. Maybe he was making a mountain out of a molehill. After all, most people—ones who didn’t know Jane well—seemed to assume she was not only perfectly normal but more together than most. An image his wife strove to preserve.
“What sort of problem?” Justin asked. “And don’t worry, I do a lot of couples counseling, and everything you say will stay between us.”
“That’s not exactly it,” Rob confessed. “But I’ll admit what I’m about to explain has taken a toll on our marriage.
” And then Rob opened up about the changes he’d been seeing in Jane, feeling like he was literally spilling his guts.
“I really love her, but she is a royal pain. She’s ruining relationships all around her.
” He felt his eyes misting up and used a napkin to blow his nose. “Including our own.”
“You mentioned OCD,” Justin said carefully. “I assume she’s never been diagnosed?”
“Are you kidding? She thinks she’s perfectly normal. It’s the rest of the world that’s a great big mess.”
Justin nodded. “So, I’m curious . . . what do you want your next steps to be? I can understand how you needed to get that off your chest and talk to someone, and I’m totally fine with just that. But is there more I can do to help? Should I try to talk to her?”
Rob explained the intervention idea. “Do you think that sounds nuts?”
Justin chuckled. “I don’t know. I mean, intervention from loving family and friends often helps addicts to choose to get help. I suppose it couldn’t really hurt. Especially if things are as bad as you say. And if Jane can see and admit she has a serious problem, she might be willing to get help.”
Rob told him about the idea to invite his mother-in-law for Christmas and to help with the intervention. “Most guys don’t get along with their wife’s mother, but Lulu is great. I mean, she’s a little wacky, but she’s lighthearted and fun, kind of an old hippie, and the polar opposite of Jane.”
“Might be just the ticket. Anyone else?”
“Our neighbors, the McEntires.”
“Good people.” Justin nodded.
“We’ve known them forever, but Jane can’t stand them.
” He explained a bit about the Hatfields and McCoys and that Olivia was now dating Malcolm.
“Which is probably why this intervention suddenly feels imperative.” Rob made an uneasy smile.
“I’d like it if you could come too. Jane respects you, and your perspective would be helpful.
Plus, if she’s willing to talk about her problem, you seem a good resource. ”
“I can tell you’ve given this a lot of thought, Rob. And I’d be honored to help.”
They talked a bit more, nailing down possible dates and times, and Justin suggested it might be better to tackle this sooner than later.
“To give Jane time to process this and consider what she’s heard.
We don’t want to pull it off right before Christmas and spoil the holidays for everyone involved. ”
“I agree completely,” Rob said as they both stood. “And I can’t tell you how relieved I feel to have a plan. I’m going to call Lulu before I go home.”
“And I’m going to be praying this goes as well as possible.” Justin shook Rob’s hand again. “You’re a good man, Rob.”
“I’m glad you think so. I’m pretty sure my name will be mud when I tell Jane I’ve invited her mother for Christmas.”
Justin chuckled as he pulled on his coat. “I hear we might get snow by next week. Think having a white Christmas will help? It always puts my wife in a jollier mood.”
“I guess it couldn’t hurt.”
Still, as Rob returned to his office down the street, he didn’t think the prospect of a white Christmas would lighten the dark cloud hanging over his house right now.
Jane had been in a serious funk since Sunday.
Whether it was due to the broken porcelain angel, the news that her daughter was dating Malcolm, or life in general, he wasn’t sure.
But the vibes at home were not good. His wife had stopped decorating midstream, asking him to return the plastic bins to the garage and spending most of her time cleaning and brooding.
Back at the accounting firm, Rob told his receptionist not to disturb him, and, securely tucked into his private and somewhat messy but comfy office, his home away from home, he called his mother-in-law.
“Robbie?” she squealed happily when she picked up. “Is that really you?”
He confirmed his identity, inquired about her health, and then admitted this call was about Jane. “I might need your help.”
“Oh, no, is she ill? She’s been on my heart lately—”
“No, her health is good. At least physically.”
“What’s going on, Robbie? Tell me everything.”
And so he did, and by the time he finished explaining about the intervention, she burst out laughing.
“Oh, Robbie, that’s just rich.”
“So you’ll come?”
“Of course, I’ll come. I’ve wanted to pull an intervention on my straitlaced daughter for years now.
My heart always goes out to the poor girl—and to all of you.
You know she’s her own worst enemy. To be honest, it was getting hard on me too.
Not just her persnickety ways either—although I admit that seeing how stressed my visits made her has kept me from visiting more often—but seeing my own flesh and blood trapped in her glass castle of perfection.
Such a sad little life. I felt bad for you and Olivia too.
I suppose you’ve been trapped with her.”
“Well, Olivia has managed to escape. For the most part.” He told her about Olivia moving a couple hours away for work, and about Malcolm.
“Oh my goodness!” Lulu’s laugh was hearty. “That must’ve tied Jane’s tail in a knot. She can’t stand your neighbors.”
“Tell me something I don’t know.” He sighed. “So you’ll really come and help me out of this mess?”
“No,” she said crisply. “I want to help you make a great big mess. A perfect mess. That’s just what Jane needs.” And suddenly she was tossing out all kinds of crazy ideas to turn Jane’s world upside down with chaos.
“I don’t know . . .” Suddenly Rob questioned whether any of this was such a great idea. After all, it was his home too. He wasn’t ready for a three-ring circus. But he kept his reservations to himself.
“And the holidays are the perfect time for this,” she continued. “So many goings-on already. With all the trappings and trimmings. Why, it’s a perfect backdrop for an intervention. It will be wonderful.”
“Wonderful . . .” he muttered, feeling he had grabbed a tiger by the tail and might be sorry later.
“I’ll tie up some loose ends here and come on over. I think I can be there next week. That’ll give us some time before Christmas, and plenty of time to shake up Moonbeam’s world.”
“Moonbeam?”
“Oh, I must’ve told you before, Rob. It’s what I named her as a baby.”
As they said goodbye, Rob vaguely remembered the strange name, and how shortly before their wedding Lulu had used that name—and how Jane had thrown such a horrible fit that Lulu apologized and swore she’d never use it again.
After things settled down, worried what he was getting into, Rob had demanded to know what the awful scene had been all about.
Jane had lightly apologized, claiming her mother was deranged .
. . talk about the writing on the wall. Later on, in a tender moment, Jane had confessed that Lulu was telling the truth after all, but that she’d legally changed her name as soon as she was of age—then swore him to secrecy over it.
Not wanting any more fits, he’d tucked it all away in some long-lost memory bank.
Moonbeam. He smiled to himself. Well, hopefully Moonbeam wouldn’t turn into a lunatic over her family’s plans to help her.
Next, Rob called his daughter. After telling Olivia of Lulu’s plans to join them next week, Olivia said she would do her best to get over there as soon as possible, saying she would bring her work with her if necessary.
“I can’t promise I’ll be there when Grandma comes, but I’ll sure try. Because we both know how Mom feels about being surprised.”
“Believe me, I know. And springing Grandma Lulu on her is a doozy.”
“You’ll need some backup, Dad. I’ll start getting my ducks in a row to come.”
“Thanks, honey. I really appreciate it.”
“And the intervention? Did you schedule that too?”
“I’m working on it.” He told her about talking to Pastor Justin.
“That’s a great idea. And I know it’ll be hard, but you’re doing the right thing, Dad.”
“I hope you’re right. After talking to your gung-ho grandmother, I started to have serious second thoughts. Lulu can be a handful.”
“I know. But I think it’s the right kind of handful. Grandma Lulu will be hard to take, but she’s probably just the right medicine.”
“And Erik told me that he and Cindy will come. And I hope you and Malcolm can be here too. Would you mind asking him about it?”
“I, uh, I guess so. Sure.” She sounded uncertain, and that concerned Rob.
“Is everything okay with you two? I know things got a little rough the day you left. Everything smoothed out?”
“Uh, sure, Dad. We’re fine. And I’ll see if he can come. I know he planned on being home for the week before Christmas.”
“I don’t want to have too many people at the intervention. But we need enough to get her attention and make a valid point. To be honest, the whole thing is starting to remind me of the Mad Hatter’s birthday party.”
“The un-birthday party,” she corrected. “And maybe it’ll all lead to a new sort of birthday. Like a rebirth, or wake-up call. Give Mom a second chance at life. Really, Dad, don’t doubt yourself. You’re doing the right thing.” And they said goodbye.
Rob appreciated the encouragement but suspected his daughter was being overly optimistic—kind of like how a hopeful little girl, faced with a giant pile of horse manure, might pick up a shovel and start to dig, expecting to find a pony buried beneath.
But in Olivia’s case, there was probably no pony.
Just a great big pile of disappointment.
Rob leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes, wishing he could conjure up some optimism.
But at the moment, all he could envision was Jane checking into a psychiatric hospital.
He didn’t think she would, really—but that’s the image he got when thinking about what was ahead.
Rob took in a deep breath and opened his eyes.
But really, he reminded himself, would that be any worse than the way they were living now?
At this rate, walking on eggshells, trying to do everything perfectly, barely breathing when his wife was looking .
. . he was probably the one who would wind up there!