You might be one of those people who resents the rich.But I think they fill a need in our society. They build castles to live in, and I get to walk by and admire them.

I would certainly enjoy the country lane Nelson DeMille portrays in his novel, Gold Coast. Quite probably, I’d never catch on that those proud mansions sitting tall at the end of their long driveways are riddled with leaky roofs and broken windows.

Gold Coast is set on the north shore of Long Island, where the Vanderbilts, Guggenheims and Gatsbys (to mix the real world with the fantastical one) built their “50-room beaux-arts heap

[s] of granite”, not to mention the guest houses, gate houses, childrens’ play houses and “pleasure palace” outbuildings complete with indoor tennis courts and swimming pools.

What a high time it was out there on Long Island.

Then came the crash of 1929.

Sixty-some years later, Gold Coast begins, introducing us to lawyer John Sutter. He lives in the guest house of his heiress wife’s family estate. It’s only a “modest” 15 rooms, but certainly in better shape than the main house, where teenagers break in and throw drunken slumber parties. These things happen when the rich can no longer afford the heating bills and the vast array of servants.

What lies in store for this crumbling country-club world?

Well, the nouveau riche have been poking around, looking to break up the estates into subdivisions and replace the grand manors with what Sutter and his fellow WASPs call “two-million-dollar tractor sheds.” Can we have that?

Goodness no!

Then how about the Iranians, Koreans and South American “pharmaceutical dealers” who make discrete inquiries at the real estate offices?

Oh, please, not that!

But what can the old families do?

They sure can’t stop New York’s biggest Mafia boss from buying the estate next to the Sutter’s.

Mr. Mafia’s actually a pretty likable neighbor. He offers the Sutters tomatoes and peppers from his garden. And they wonder if they dare say, “No, thank you.”

It’s the same dilemma when he invites them to dinner. And drops hints about a country club membership.

And then he probes for legal advice. What do you think Sutter’s dignified law partners back on Wall Street will have to say about that?

John Sutter’s got trouble on his hands.

Gold Coast takes the reader into a rarefied world where even a trust fund and a Jaguar XJ-6 don’t solve all your problems.

As for cow patties, John and Susan Sutter employ a few novel tricks for keeping their marriage interesting, fun for them, cringe-y to me.

20150705_181850 (3)I don’t think they should be so snooty about neighboring up to a few mini-mansions. After all, their new neighbors will be the sort who throw picnics with colorful food like Hot Dog Roll-ups and Cheddar Broccoli Salad. (Well I get that WASPs find hot dogs horrifying, but these things were yummy!)

Oh, and Strawberries-and-Cream Sheet Cake. I’ve been waiting for strawberry season to come around so I can make this, and the season nearly got away from me.

You can see that the cake got a big yea vote.20150705_184035 (2)