Getting Old Can Kill You (4 page)

“C
ome on, get the lead out.” Ida snaps her fingers at her two malingering friends. “We’ll be late to mah-jongg.”

Irritated, she shakes her head, her coiled gray knot immovable as usual. Her toothpick-thin body’s posture is ramrod, as if it is her way of holding herself together.

She stares at the two women who have become family in lieu of her real one so far away, both literally and emotionally. So utterly different. They copy each other in the clothes they wear—today, jumpsuits: Sophie in flamboyant red and Bella, as usual, in pale colors, currently lavender.

If the two of them had their druthers, they’d sit on a bench and not move all day. “We’re going to be late. I don’t know why I bother waiting for you.”

Bella pleads, “But I need a short rest. And we’re only two minutes away.”

Ida sighs as they slowly get up and start inching along their path to the recreation room a bit faster.

Sophie asks, “Who put you in charge anyway?”

“Yeah,” mimics Bella. “Anyway.”

Ida mutters under her breath, “You Bobbsey twins are a pain in the neck.”

“I heard that,” Sophie says.

“When are the newlyweds coming back?” Bella asks.

Ida places her hands on her hips in annoyance. “I told you yesterday, the day after tomorrow.”

Bella says, “I forgot. So what day is that?”

Ida says, “Figure it out. What’s today?”

Bella appeals to Sophie. “I forgot that, too. Help me out.”

Sophie, who has idly been gathering flowers en route, throws a daisy at Ida. Naturally it falls short. “Why do you always pick on her?” To Bella, she says, “Wednesday, they’re coming home in the evening.”

Bella smiles sweetly. “I hope they’re having a happy honeymoon.”

Ida moves ahead of them. “Grrrr. Hopeless.”

Bella stops abruptly. And plops onto the next nearest bench.

“Now what?” Ida asks.

“I’ve got a pebble in my shoe.” She slowly bends over, not an easy task with arthritis.

Sophie sits down beside her. “If you sit, I could sit, too.”

Ida stands over them, disgusted.

Sophie leans her arms over the back of the bench, ready to wait awhile. “You know, I’ve been having thoughts … Wanna hear?”

“I want to,” Bella says eagerly. “Is it about what we should eat tonight? The deli has a special on knockwurst and baked beans. Maybe someone will drive us.”

Sophie says, “No, this is important. It’s about when Gladdy and Evvie come back as married ladies.”

Ida perks up. “I’ve been thinking along the same lines. It was one thing when the men were just hanging around. Maybe they might have left eventually. But this is permanent. They’re here to stay. Nothing is going to be the same.”

Bella sings, off key, “Sadie, Sadie, married lady.” She grins. “That’s Barbra Streisand’s song.”

Ida has been doing leg bends, knowing they’ll do anything to stall any kind of movement. They’ll be here awhile.

She stops to put her hand over Bella’s mouth. “Don’t sing.”

Bella pouts.

Ida continues. “Having husbands in the picture will get in our way.”

Bella takes one of Sophie’s daisies and starts peeling the petals off one by one. “He loves me, he loves me not … Do you think we’ll ever get married again?”

Ida growls, “Don’t be ridiculous. At our age? And besides, who’d be dumb enough to want to wait on some old grouchy male?”

“Hah,” Sophie says. “What guy would want a grouchy female like someone whose name I wouldn’t mention but is standing right here?”

Ida shoots her a dirty look.

Bella works on another daisy. She brightens at her thought. “Yeah, who’d want to wash some old guy’s underwear anyway?”

Sophie grabs her daisy away from her. “Since when are you on her side?” She points an accusing finger at Ida.

Bella lifts all four feet nine of her off the bench and puffs out her chest. “I’m on the side of what’s right. I’m proud to be an independent thinker.”

“Hello,” someone calls out to them. They turn to see their neighbor from Phase Three, Arlene Simon, coming toward them. Ida is always amazed by Arlene. Even though she’s pushing eighty, she still wears skirts and dresses and high heels and continues to wear makeup and dye her hair golden blond. She’s always put together perfectly. She wonders why Arlene does it. Most everyone accepts his or her shades of gray and white. Why all that bother to change hair color? And nobody in Lanai Gardens wears a heel over one inch. She has to admit Arlene is still a good-looking woman.

But what’s this? She looks upset.

Arlene is out of breath. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”

Ida steps up to the plate. “Are you in some kind of trouble?”

Arlene glances back and Ida notes she’s looking at a small moving van unloading a king-size bed in front of her Phase Three building. “When is Gladdy coming home?”

Bella perks up. She knows this answer. “Wednesday. In the evening.”

Arlene sighs. “I was hoping she’d be home sooner.”

Ida says, “Can we help you?”

She shakes her head. “Thank you, but I don’t think so. I’d like to talk to Gladdy. Would you please have her call me when they return?”

With that, Arlene leaves them. Ida watches their neighbor cautiously heading toward the back entrance of her apartment building.

“Hmmph.” Sophie shows her annoyance. “What are we, chopped liver?”

“You see what I mean?” Defeated, Ida sits down on an adjoining bench. “It’s starting already. Here’s the potential for a new case. Did Arlene confide in us? No. She’ll hire Gladdy. And without a thought about us, Gladdy won’t want to hurt her new husband’s feelings, so Jack will tag along. He’ll always be right there at her side.”

Depression sinks over them like a thundercloud. Sophie says, “No more five mouseketeers.”

“That’s musketeers,” Ida corrects.

“Whatever. No more running in and out of their apartments any old time.”

Bella takes up the chorus. “No more eating chocolate cake together in the middle of the night.”

Sophie says, “Remember how Jack hated early bird dinners? Gone.”

Bella sighs. “No more shopping till we drop. Gone.”

Sophie groans. “Gladdy and Evvie won’t go to bingo anymore. Or flea markets or even garage sales. Gone.”

They have a long list of what will be gone forever.

Bella looks confused. “That’s everything. So what
will
they be doing?”

Sophie gives her a pinch on the cheek. “Trust me, they won’t be bored.”

“That’s it,” Ida says. “We’re toast. We’re has-beens. Down with the Fab Five and up with the Double Dynamo. Gladdy Gold and Associates—finished.”

Bella shudders. “What are we going to do? Once we’ve tasted blood, how can we be happy with bingo?”

Ida stands up, hands on hips. “I have a solution. I’ve been thinking about this ever since the newlyweds left.”

Bella and Sophie look up at Ida warily. She has a dangerous expression on her face. That can only mean trouble for them.

Ida continues. “Why wait until we’re dumped? I say we take action.”

The girls are all ears. Ida’s voice is stronger now. “I say we go into business for ourselves. We enroll in a detective school. Once we graduate, we’re off on our own.”

The girls perk up. Sophie announces, “Now you’re talking.”

Bella looks confused. “Now
you’re
on her side?”

Sophie smiles knowingly. “Like in politics, you gotta go with the winners. Where do we find a detective school?”

“Not to worry. I already picked one out of the yellow pages. The guy had the biggest ad, so I bet he’s the best. Think about it. A two-week class and we’ll be up to speed in the PI biz.”

Sophie worries. “Wait a minute. We don’t have a car. How will we get to class?”

Ida says, “Not to worry. We can always take the bus.”

The girls are revved up. Bella grins. “Let’s sign up right away.”

Sophie rises, ready to move back again. “They can’t dump us. We’ll dump them first.”

The three march along, arms wrapped around one another. Late to mah-jongg and no longer even interested in attending.

Ida announces, “When they come back, we’ll tell them we’ve got to talk.”

S
uch a flurry of excitement. It seems everyone in our Phase Two section has been hanging around awaiting our arrival. Moments after we get out of our taxi, Enya hugs us and tells us she’s made a pot roast for us so we don’t need to cook tonight. Tessie and Sol, happily addicted to rich foods, present us with brownies for dessert. Lola leans over her second-story balcony and offers freshly baked bread while her hubby, Hy, being Hy, presents us with his smart mouth. “So how was Viagra Falls, guys? Get it?
Viagra
Falls.”

Joe calls up to him, not bothering to hide his sarcasm, “Got it, Hy, you’re a riot.”

Hy chortles, waves, then goes back inside his apartment.

After more welcome-home gifts and flowers and neighbors asking about our travels, the group disperses. We lift our suitcases and, happily tired, head for our apartments. Such a balmy, beautiful night, South Florida at its best. But something’s missing.

Conspicuously missing are the girls.

I glance up at Bella’s second-floor apartment, next door to Evvie’s. I see a curtain flutter for just one moment. What’s this? Trouble in paradise?

I languidly watch Jack unpack our suitcases as I lie on our bed, shoes kicked off, and my hands behind my head. It feels so good to be home. He tells me he intends to spoil me rotten. He’s already separated the dirty laundry. The pot roast is heating up. The table is set for dinner.

“Feel any different?” Jack asks. “Now that the ring is on your finger and around my neck.”

I look at him in surprise. “Oh, really? Trapped, are you?”

“Kidding. That’s a Hy kind of comment. It’s catching.”

“Least I can do is make you a drink.” I climb off the bed. “What’s your pleasure?”

“A beer will do. And some of those crinkly chips left over from our farewell party if they aren’t stale.”

I start for the kitchen.

Jack calls after me, “So what do you think is going on with the girls?”

I stop. “So you noticed, too.”

“How could I not? From them I was expecting balloons and confetti; at least a brass band. But not the cold shoulder.”

I return with a beer for him and lemonade for me.

“So you also think they’re unhappy about something?”

“My guess is reality has set in. Jack and Joe are here to stay.”

“Maybe so, but not to make an appearance? That isn’t like them.” I wind my arms around my wondrous new husband. I hug him and he hugs back. “I can understand that they might be concerned about things changing, but no greeting at all?”

The phone rings. I walk over to the phone on the bedside table. “Maybe that’s one of them now. Hello?” I listen then turn to Jack. “It’s Evvie.” I listen some more. “We were just talking about that very thing.” I report to Jack, “Evvie says there was a tiny knock at her door. By the time she answered, Bella had left a plate of cookies and then disappeared back into her apartment.”

Jack shrugs. “I guess we’ll find out what’s bothering them soon enough.”

“If you figure it out,” I say to Evvie, “let me know. We’ll talk tomorrow.” I hang up.

I sit down on the edge of the bed and turn to Jack. “All I can think of is something must have happened while we were away. But what?”

The phone rings again. I reach for it. “It must be one of them this time.” I answer and listen and shake my head at Jack. “Yes, of course we can.”

“Who is it this time?” he asks.

“It was our neighbor Arlene Simon from Phase Three.”

“Which one is she? Don’t believe I’ve seen her.”

“You would if I described her. Blond, dresses beautifully, the only one around who doesn’t have gray or white hair.”

He nods. “Now I do. She’s still quite a looker.”

“She has a problem and wants to meet with me. Now I think we have a problem of our own.”

Jack is puzzled. “What’s that?”

“That’s probably what she said to the girls when she asked them when we’d be back. She asked for me. She didn’t confide in them, my partners.” I sip my drink, lost for a few moments in my thoughts.

“You know what I think? Knowing the girls as well as I do, logic tells me they’ve made some sort of decision and can’t face us until they’re ready to inform us. Bella leaving a little gift tells me Bella is nervous about it and doesn’t want our feelings hurt.”

Jack smiles. “Well, logic tells
me
it’s too soon to ask us to get divorced—”

Suddenly I jump up, interrupting him. “Oh, my God, that’s it. Because of what Arlene didn’t say to them. They’re going to divorce themselves from us!”

Jack is speechless. I am horrified.