Wrecked Millionaire Models

Mary stirred her cup of tea carefully. Gently she laid the spoon back on the sterling silver tray and smiled at her guests. Perhaps she was a little stupid but at least she had never engaged in the jealous slander and gossip other people assume. She situated herself, a young lady whose reputation and integrity were intact. Her guests were currently engaged in a discussion on the virtues (or lack of them) concerning boarding schools.

“Mary dear,” Annette asked, “Would you have attended one?” Annette was the mother of Mary’s best friend Darla. She had married old money and spent much of her time redecorating homes and traveling. Mary replied that she did not prefer them. “Well they do serve a purpose,” Annette continued, “I mean after all when a family from a good neighborhood prospers and leaves to live elsewhere, those left behind question the motives behind the decision. Boarding schools allow the prosperous family to prepare the new generation for a better life while remaining true to their roots.” Mary nodded. Annette had a force of personality that discouraged people from disagreeing with her. Darla laughed winsomely, “Oh mother, you are always passionate.” That made Mary laugh and soon all five ladies were having a genial laugh at Annette’s expense.

Sue, a comely woman, pulled her chair closer to the small circle of friends. “Mary, your beauty is astounding. You are one of those few women whom the passage of time will leave unscathed.” The others purred in agreement. “You’ll be surrounded by suitors Mary,” Darla added. Mary felt flush. There was time enough for that.
Anastasia had been quietly knitting the entire time and held up her work for the others to examine. “So how am I doing?” she said. Annette carefully took the half finished vest. “It’s beautiful dear. I should think Mark will love this when you present it to him for his birthday next month.” The others laughed. Anastasia blushed.

“Oh to be young again,” Annette mused, “But like the preacher says in Ecclesiastics, there is a season for everything. A time to be born and a time to die, vanity of vanities, all is vanity.”

Sue politely cleared her throat. “I believe the writer was saying that when the situation appears hopeless hope can still be found.” Annette giggled. “Oh mother, you can be so melodramatic,” Darla said. Everyone laughed again.
Suddenly there was a knock. “Oh the door. Could someone be a dear and answer it?” Mary asked. “Certainly,” Sue said and rose to answer the door. She returned a moment later and sat back down. “Why nobody’s there.” A minute later the ladies fell into conversation again.

The psychiatrist stopped tapping on the glass. “Hard to believe that forty years ago she was a truly beautiful woman. A fashion model no less,” he said. The female nurse nodded as she peered at the aged ruined face of the female patient. “A stalker did that. It breaks your heart to see such things,” she replied, “and nobody’s visited her in years.” The doctor and nurse shook their heads, the pity evident as they continued with their rounds.

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