Getting Old Can Kill You (5 page)

I
leave my beloved sleeping, quickly drink my usual cup of coffee and grab a piece of toast, and out I go. It’s time for our usual morning exercise.

Jack and I were in all last evening expecting one of the girls to call. But not a peep out of any of them. My plan for today is to pretend nothing is unusual and see who can’t stand the suspense and says something. I’m betting on dear Bella. She won’t be able to take the silence.

I’m sure Jack’s plan for much of his day will be catching up with all the email he missed while we were away. Yes, I have to admit it, ready or not, Jack brought the twenty-first century with him when he moved in with me. We now have the ubiquitous computer with all its inner bells and whistles—email, Google, IM, Facebook, Twitter, and all that jazz. He’s talking about getting something called Skype. Being actually seen by whoever calls? I don’t know if I’m ready for that.

He likes to stay in touch with all our kids and grandkids in New York that way. Nice, but I still prefer talking to them by phone. I even had to give up my much adored rotary phone. Every time Jack walked into the kitchen, the sight of that old thing had him in stitches.

We also now have a modern TV set. First thing Jack dumped was my little table model, circa 1985, and we have one of those humongous, forty-two-inch practically-takes-up-the-whole-wall plasma TVs, whatever that means. Out with my old VCR and the tapes I used to mangle. Now it’s DVD (until that gets obsolete) and TiVo.

Now, of course, everyone has been coming to our apartment to watch television. Are the girls willing to give up that luxury?

The girls are already grouped around our meeting place, the palm tree next to one of the small ponds. They are whispering like the little conspirators they are. Probably wondering if I’ll show up.

I pop out of the stairwell and here I am bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, as the expression goes. I start my warm-up. “Hi, everyone. Isn’t it a glorious day?”

Each of them faces a different direction. Sophie is suddenly busy tightening her shoelaces. Ida does leg bends. Bella doesn’t do anything. She takes a quick peep at me, then turns away.

No takers yet. I try another gambit. “Did you have fun last night?”

Bella does fold first. She turns toward me, curious. “Fun? What was I doing that I was having fun? I don’t remember.”

Sophie turns. The next domino to fall. “Did I miss something?”

“Well,” I say, “since nobody was around when we got home, I assumed you were out somewhere having a good time, I hope.” Sometimes I can be such a meanie.

Bella blurts, “We were here. Didn’t Evvie tell you I sent over cookies?”

Ida shoots her an angry look as if to say
traitor
.

I can see Evvie making her brisk way toward us.

“You could ask her,” Bella adds.

Ida turns stiffly with a tone daring me not to believe her. “I had dusty curtains to wash and iron. That was my big fun evening.”

“Hi, everyone.” Evvie is equally cheery. “Missed you last night when we got back.”

Well, that speeds things up. The subject is out in the open.

Sophie decides to move that topic along past any reference to their not showing up. “Did you have a good honeymoon?”

“Just great,” Evvie answers. “The scenery was gorgeous. We rode in a boat that was very close to the falls. We got soaking wet but it was worth it. Really exciting.”

They’re still quiet, but they’re beginning to look interested. Except for Ida, who pretends to be bored.

Evvie baits the hook. “We even had an adventure.”

Sophie and Bella, loving a story, sit down on our bench. Yet again, any excuse not to exercise. Ida leans against our tree, arms folded. She still hasn’t made eye contact with me.

Evvie tells the story. “There was a young woman on the boat who was going to commit suicide and Jack and Gladdy rescued her.”

Bella’s eyes widen as she says, “Wow! That’s really exciting. Why was she going to kill herself?”

Evvie answers, “Because her new husband didn’t show up on the boat. He told her he changed his mind about being married.”

Bella is thrilled. “Just like watching
Days of Our Lives
on TV.”

Sophie is equally fascinated. “What happened next?”

I continue the account. “But the husband changed his mind and was rushing to the boat to tell her. Because of his haste, he had an accident on the way and cracked up his car and landed in the hospital.”

“Wow,” Sophie says.

Evvie adds, “They were reunited at the hospital. Both of them sorry for everything that happened. He’d just had cold feet and she overreacted. A horrible tragedy was averted. They made up and were in tears.”

I wrap up the story. “After the boat captain and the police and a mental health person released her, the couple promised to go home and go into joint therapy. All’s well that ends well.”

Evvie smiles. “Almost like Romeo and Juliet. They might have both died thinking the other one died.”

Bella breaks out into a big smile. She always likes a happy ending.

Ida, the cynic, finally deigns to speak. “They were already fighting on their honeymoon. What makes you think those two will live happily ever after?”

I sigh. “We can only hope, Ida.”

Evvie starts to move. “Are we walking, or not?”

Bella and Sophie slowly get up. Ida gets going.

As we pass the badminton court, I say casually, “By the way, I’m going to meet with Arlene Simon. I hear she spoke to you.”

“Well,” says Ida, now that it’s out, “she only wanted to talk to
you
. So I guess you’ll be taking her case.”

Evvie and I exchange glances. Here it comes.

“There is no case,” I say. “She just wants some personal advice.”

Sophie is startled. “We thought it was a case.”

Bella adds, “Just for you and Jack, not us.”

“Since when would I leave you out?” I say. “And besides, Jack isn’t one of our associates.”

Evvie decides to bring it up. “Only if you’d like to vote him in.”

Bella and Sophie quickly look toward Ida. I have a feeling they want her to get them out of what she probably got them into.

Ida takes a deep breath. “We’ve been thinking. Maybe it’s time for us to regroup. Now that the two of you are married, we thought you’d like to be in business with them.”

Them? It’s as if she can’t bring herself to mention the guys’ names.

Sophie, realizing where she’s going, breaks in. “But if Arlene isn’t a case … we don’t have to—”

Ida interrupts her. “We’re committed to going into the private eye business for ourselves.”

Bella and Sophie look dismayed.

Evvie shows her surprise. “You mean you want to leave Gladdy Gold and Associates?”

“It might be better that way,” Ida answers.

“How do you mean, committed?” I ask.

“We’re signed up to take a course and when we’re done, we get a certificate and then we become Ida Franz and Associates.”

Sophie glares at her. “We haven’t decided on names yet.”

Bella adds, in a panic, “We haven’t signed up, either.”

Ida announces, “I have. For all of us.”

I shake my head in consternation. Ida, Ida, what are you doing? Why do you always have to be the rotten apple in the barrel?

Evvie tries to help. “Well, maybe you can still change your mind.”

Nice try, Evvie. But that won’t work. When Ida gets herself into a hole, she needs to dig herself in deeper.

Ida’s shoulders shoot up. “As a matter of fact, we have to cut this short. We’re due at class and we need to shower and dress.” Without looking at us, she walks off, back toward our building.

Sophie and Bella are flummoxed. They don’t know what to say or do. With last agonized glances at us, they hurry after Ida.

Evvie blows out her breath. “Whew, that didn’t go too well. What do we do now?”

“Nothing. We just have to let them play it out and hope they don’t end up in too much of a mess.”

We continue our walk.

“By the by,” Evvie says. “Joe and I made a decision last night.”

I smile. “I don’t know how many more decisions I can take in one morning.”

Evvie puts her arm around my waist as we keep going.

Uh-oh, this must be serious. “Break it to me gently.”

“Joe and I had a long talk. The honeymoon trip brought up a lot of memories of our earlier years when we were still happy. Joe admitted he was homesick and wanted to see our daughter and the grandkids.”

I know where this is going and I hold my breath.

“We’re going back up north. He wants to spend some time with our family.”

She doesn’t have to tell me why. “Do you have any plan for how long?”

“We’re thinking maybe a month’s visit, but if Joe wants to stay …” She hesitates. “Then, only God knows when we’ll be back.”

We turn and hug each other. I feel myself start to tear up. I attempt to make a joke of it. “So all the rats are leaving the sinking ship.”

“Not all, dear sister. You still have Jack, and the two of you can build a better mousetrap!”

We giggle through our tears.

“I
hope you don’t mind our meeting in your apartment.” Arlene has repeated this three times since she walked over from Phase Three to visit with me. She may be having a problem, but she walks with regal posture. She’s as impeccably dressed as always. Her blond pageboy is perfect, not a hair out of place. She wears a peach-colored skirt and top that look as sparkling new as if she’d just bought them. Of course her high heels match.

I am in my usual variation of beige slacks and white T-shirt and sneakers.

We’re sitting at my tiny kitchen table having tea while she works up to telling me what’s wrong. We’ve already discussed my honeymoon and events going on at Lanai Gardens. And small bits of information about the new European patisserie that just opened. I wait patiently.

Jack sent himself off on an errand. Even though she said she wouldn’t mind his being there, we both thought she’d be more comfortable just the two of us. Women talk, he assumed.

She takes a deep breath and I think she’s ready. She speaks softly.

“Did you ever have a nightmare over and over again and it finally happens in real life?” She doesn’t wait for me to answer. “Well, I did and I’m living my nightmare right now. You may have heard me mention my late husband, Robby Simon, and our two children.”

I nod at that. “Yes, I do.”

“Well, Robby wasn’t my first husband. I was married before to a man named Edward. He was a doctor. We were married for five years and he dumped me for my very best friend, Joyce.” She laughs and the sound is brittle. “I guess I’m not too good at picking men. Robby cheated on me as well, but his mistress wasn’t a woman. He turned out to be a gambler and pretty much wiped us out financially. He died shooting craps in his hotel room in Vegas.”

I didn’t mention that I’d heard about that from the girls when they were involved with that phony guru and his Dead Husbands Club last month, when Arlene’s husband’s “spirit” supposedly visited her.

I refill her empty tea cup and she continues.

“He was a rebound marriage. My true love was Edward. When I caught Edward in bed with Joyce, I behaved very badly. I’m ashamed to say I even picked up a knife to threaten them.”

She bows her head not wanting to face me with those embarrassing words. “In all these years, I never even told my children of my shame. Bobby and Nicky would be horrified.”

It’s hard to believe this elegant, soft-spoken lady had ever felt such rage. The Arlene we’ve seen is a self-sufficient loner. A situation like that could make any woman lose control. Anger is a powerful emotion.

She continues. “Last week while you were away, I was aware of a moving van unloading. I almost fainted when I saw who was moving into my very own building. Joyce Steiner. Herself. My God, the last time I saw her was over fifty-five years ago! I almost didn’t recognize her. I had to look more carefully. But it’s her. I recognized those eyes. The way she tosses that red hair. The way she carries herself. I knew. That’s why I needed to talk to someone and I thought about you.”

She leans back in her chair. It’s finally out.

“Arlene, dear, what is it you want from me?”

“I can’t believe the strength of my feelings. I don’t want any part of her in my life again and I don’t know how to handle this.”

She turns to me and I can see the sadness in her eyes. “I need your wisdom, Gladdy. I need you to help me sort out what to do.”

I sip at my tea. “Did she see you?”

“I don’t think so. The minute I was sure it was Joyce, I ran away until I saw the empty van leave. Then I rushed up to my apartment. I’ve been avoiding her since then.”

“I’m sorry that you’re so troubled.”

“I can’t seem to help it. I snuck downstairs and saw which apartment she moved into. You want to hear irony? When we lived in the same apartment building back then, I lived on the third floor and she, right under me, on the second. And it’s the same now. As if history were repeating itself.”

This puzzles me. I didn’t know of anyone moving out of that Phase Three building.

I ask, “Do you know who had been living there before?”