Getting Old Is Criminal

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also by rita lakin

G e t t i n g O l d I s M u r d e r G e t t i n g O l d I s t h e B e s t R e v e n g e and

G e t t i n g O l d I s T o D i e F o r C o m i n g f r o m D e l l i n s p r i n g 2 0 0 8

Getting Old Is

Criminal

R i t a L a k i n

A D E L L B O O K

GETTING OLD IS CRIMINAL

A Dell Book / May 2007

Published by Bantam Dell

A Division of Random House, Inc.

New York, New York

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved

Copyright © 2007 by Rita Lakin

Map and ornament illustrations by Laura Hartman Maestro Book design by Karin Batten

Dell is a registered trademark of Random House, Inc., and the colophon is a trademark of Random House, Inc.

eISBN: 978-0-440-33684-6

www.bantamdell.com

v1.0

This book is

for Alison with Love

from her Grandma

You don’t stop laughing when you grow old.

You grow old when you stop laughing.

—Anonymous

Happy 101st Birthday!

Harold W. (Rudy) Truesdale

Eureka, California

Born 1906, twelve days before the San Francisco earthquake hit.

One of the first commerical pilots ever. Now the oldest living one. Hired by TWA.

First airline captain to ever marry a stewardess.

Surveyed the road and pool at Hearst Castle for friend Howard Hughes.

Advice for longevity: a glass of red wine every night.

—Submitted by Burrille Catamach

“Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away.”

—George Carlin, 70, comic

gladdy & her gladiators

Gladys (Gladdy) Gold, 75
Our heroine and her funny, adorable, and sometimes impossible partners:
Evelyn (Evvie) Markowitz, 73
Gladdy’s sister. Logical, a regular Sherlock Holmes

Ida Franz, 71
Stubborn, mean, great for in-your-face confrontation

Bella Fox, 83
The “shadow.” She’s so forgettable, she’s perfect for surveillance, but smarter than you think
Sophie Meyerbeer, 80
Master of disguises, she lives for color-coordination

yentas, kibitzers, sufferers: the inhabitants of phase two

Hy Binder, 88
A man of a thousand jokes, all of them tasteless

Lola Binder, 78
Hy’s wife, who hasn’t a thought in her head that he hasn’t put there

Denny Ryan, 42
The handyman. Sweet, kind, mentally slow

Enya Slovak, 84
Survivor of “the camps” but never really survived

Tessie Hoffman, 56
Chubby, with a big fat crush on Sol
Millie Weiss, 85
Suffering with Alzheimer’s
Irving Weiss, 86
Suffering because Millie is suffering
Mary Mueller, 60
Neighbor and nurse, whose husband left her

x • R i t a L a k i n

oddballs and fruitcakes

The Canadians, 30–40-ish
Young, tan, and clueless
Sol Spankowitz, 79
A lech after the ladies
Dora Dooley, 81
Jack’s neighbor, loves soap operas the cop and the cop’s pop

Morgan (Morrie) Langford, 35
Tall, lanky, sweet, and smart

Jack Langford, 75
Handsome and romantic the library mavens

Conchetta Aguilar, 38
Her Cuban coffee could grow hair on your chest

Barney Schwartz, 27
Loves a good puzzle new tenants

Barbi Stevens, 20-ish
, and
Casey Wright, 20-ish
Cousins who moved from California

and:

Yolanda Diaz, 22
Her English is bad, but her heart is good

Gladdy’s Glossar y

Yiddish (meaning Jewish) came into being between the ninth and twelfth centuries in Germany as an adaptation of German dialect to the special uses of Jewish religious life.

In the early twentieth century, Yiddish was spoken by eleven million Jews in Eastern Europe and the United States. Its use declined radically.

However, lately there has been a renewed interest in embracing Yiddish once again as a connection to Jewish culture.

alter kockers

lecherous old men

bubbala (bubeleh)

endearing term

bubkes

trifling, worth nothing

chupeh

bridal canopy

dumkupf

dunce

fahputzed

overly done

feh!

phooey!

gornisht

nothing

haimish

friendly

kibitz

giving unwanted advice

kvetch

whine & complain

lantsman

countryman, someone

from your home area

maven

someone who knows

everything

matzo

unleavened bread for

Passover

mensch

a dignified person

mishmash

a mess

mamzer

trickster, untrustworthy

person

nosh

small meal

pupik

belly button

putz

penis (insult)

rugallah

pastry

schlep

dragging a load

schmear

to spread like butter

tsimmes

fuss

tush

a baby’s bottom

yenta

busybody

Getting Old Is

Criminal

SIGH NO MORE, L ADY

T
he Jacuzzi bubbles tickled. Even the champagne tickled as the silvery liquid glided down
her eager throat. She looked up at the mirrored
ceiling. Then at each mirrored wall. Happily, the
bubbles were up to her chin so she didn’t have to
look at her ninety-five-year-old turkey-wattled
neck. Her eyesight was failing, so in the haze of her
cataracts, her white hair once again seemed as
blond as it had been in her salad days. In her tipsy
state, she remembered when she’d been compared
to Carole Lombard—or so the boys had said in
those courting days when they were trying to get
into her bloomers.

What was management thinking?
Esther Ferguson
wondered. Everyone here was close to pushing up
the daisies. Why would they have installed so many
2 • R i t a L a k i n

mirrors? The first three years she lived here, she had
draped all but the mirror over the sink. It was
Romeo who’d made her take the fabric down, the
better to admire her.

Esther loved Grecian Villas. Close to the heart
of Fort Lauderdale, conveniently located near the
beach and the chic Las Olas Street shopping
area—what more could anyone want? Everything
in the deluxe retirement community was first-rate.

A fabulous dining room that outdid Las Vegas.

Food from a class-act chef. Lush lawns. Indoor
and outdoor pools. Views of the ocean. First-run
movies any night of the week. Bridge players with
their brains still intact. Granted, she paid through
the
pupik,
but she could afford it. Her dead husband, Harry, had left her very, very, very rich. And
she had no family except for her rigid son, Alvin,
and his annoying wife. They were waiting for her
to croak. They’d get the money, all right; they
could have whatever was left. But she intended to
spend as much as she wanted on herself as long as
she lasted.

She giggled. This place alone took five thousand
a month. Oops, she thought, and hiccupped, as
she spilled a bit of her champagne into the Jacuzzi.

She looked toward the half-open mirrored door.

“Romeo, where art thou, snookums?”

A velvety voice replied from the living room bar,
where she could hear him tinkling with the glasses,

“Coming, my Juliet.”

Her lover put on a CD. Tchaikovsky’s Romeo
G e t t i n g O l d I s C r i m i n a l • 3

and Juliet Overture wafted toward her. How perfect. Who would have thunk it? Mad, passionate
love at ninety-five with a gorgeous guy twenty
years her junior. Well, not so mad and not all that
passionate, either. The body parts didn’t move
much, no matter how much oiling, but, oh, the romance.

He knocked. “May I enter, m’lady?”

“Need you ask, m’lord?”

“Of course. A gentleman always knocks before
he enters his loved one’s private chambers.”

“Knock away, oh dear one, and bring your gorgeous self right in.”

Romeo entered, the diamond stickpin gleaming
against his silken white cravat, his red damask
robe in dramatic counterpoint. His unshod feet
glided toward Esther as all his mirror images reflected and re-reflected. Removing Esther’s empty
champagne flute, he handed her another and spoke
softly to her. “ ‘Eyes, look your last! Arms, take
your last embrace.’ ” He leaned over and kissed
her forehead.