Getting Old Is to Die for (19 page)

Joe continues to stand. "I don't want anything. Maybe to just be friends."

"A little late, wouldn't you say?"

He gives her a nervous grin. "Better late than never?"

She shrugs. "Not necessarily. Frankly, I have all the friends I need."

"Evvie, be reasonable." He plops down on the easy chair across from her.

Immediately she jumps up off the couch. "Hah, look who's talking. Mister I'm-always-right-and-you-never-are. Mister I-know-everything-and-you're-stupid."

"I'm sorry," he says softly.

She lifts her finger to one ear and turns her head to that side. "What did you say? I can't hear you."

"I said I'm sorry."

"For what? For being a lousy husband and father? For treating me like dirt? That sorry?"

"Yes, I guess so."

"Too late." She walks to the door and holds it open for him.

He walks quickly to the door, angry now. "You're impossible. I can't talk to you!"

"Funny," Evvie says, "I used to say that to you all the time."

Joe storms out and Evvie shuts the door. For a moment she looks at the closed door, then leans her head against it and cries.

Twenty minutes later a secret meeting is held in the gazebo around the corner from Phase Three. No one is around. Everyone is either asleep or watching TV. Sophie, Bella, and Ida, wearing sweaters against the evening coolness, sit on the attached benches. Even the ducks in the pond are quiet. The only sound is of the evening sprinklers doing their nightly job of keeping the lawns alive.

"I'm mad," says Sophie.

"Me, too," parrots Bella.

"We are all in agreement," their leader of choice, Ida, tells them. "So what are we going to do about it?"

"Why can't we go to New York, too?" asks Sophie.

Ida answers her: "So who says we can't? We could take a vacation. Nobody will stop us."

"Nobody will even notice we're gone," Bella comments.

"That's for sure," says Sophie.

"We haven't taken a trip in years," says Ida. "Not since we went to Disney World fifteen years ago."

"If they can visit their folks in New York and Connecticut, so can we," says Bella.

Sophie gives her a gentle punch in the arm and reminds her, "You don't have any folks in New York, or anywhere else. You're an orphan."

"I forgot." She pouts, near tears.

Sophie and Ida both lean over to her and hug her. "We're your only family."

Bella sniffs and says to Sophie, "Well, you have family. We can stay with your son, Jerome, in Brooklyn."

"No, thank you," Sophie huffs. "When I got sick last month and you called him, did he bother to come down and see how I was? No, of course not; he was too busy. He's always too busy. I wouldn't waste our precious vacation up north to see him."

"Well," Bella says brightly to Ida, "what about your family?"

Ida reminds her that her family is in California, but doesn't remind her that they are not on speaking terms.

"Okay," says Sophie, "we're on our own. Forget about family, think about fun. Where shall we go?"

Bella says, "How about the Statue of Liberty and Ellis Island?"

"Been there. Done that. Wore out the T-shirt." Sophie leans over and picks a gardenia from a bush right next to the gazebo. She sniffs it, enjoying its heady aroma.

Ida comments, "Yeah, about fifty years ago."

Bella adds, "So, it will be like new again. I was thinking we could visit our relatives there in the records they have on who came to America and when."

"Not a bad idea," says Sophie. "I vote to see a Broadway musical, maybe go dancing in Roseland."

"Sounds good," says Bella.

Sophie adds, "Maybe pick up some sailors in Times Square."

Ida and Bella stare at her.

Sophie grins. "Kidding...I was just remembering what I did when I was a teenager during the war."

"Okay," says Ida, summing up. "We'll make reservations in a nice hotel, cancel all our plans for next week, and pack and get ready for some fun in the Big Apple."

"And we won't even call Gladdy and Evvie when we're in the city," says Sophie.

Bella adds, "Not even once. Who needs them?"

The three girls slap one another's hands in a high five, then tiptoe back to their apartments and bed.

30

NEWS TRAVELS FAST

H
ello, Emily darling." I love my new cell phone. I'm heading along the walkway to the laundry room and talking with one hand holding the phone and the other balancing my white plastic laundry basket against my hip.

"Mom, hi. How are you?"

"Just fine. Have some good news for you."

"Really? You're announcing your wedding? I already picked out my dress. I hope it'll match what you'll be wearing."

"Nice try, darling daughter. Keep the dress in a clean plastic bag, so it'll stay fresh. Guess who's coming to visit tomorrow?"

Emily sounds confused. "Visit? Where?"

"In New York. Your favorite mother is coming for a short trip."

Silence. I'm in the laundry room now and I quickly put my clothes in the washer, tossing my four quarters in to get it started. "Emily, are you still there?"

"Uh, sorry, Mom, I, uh, I dropped the phone. What a pleasant surprise." She pauses. "Any special occasion?"

"Something the matter? You sound strange." Like she's not happy at this news.

"No, just getting over a cold."

That's a lie. I can tell. "Does a mother need a reason? Well, as a matter of fact, we just finished up a case. And it made me realize how much I'm missing all of you. Still have that lumpy couch in the den?"

"Not to worry, you can have Erin and Elizabeth's room. But I warn you, you know what teenage clutter is like. I tried to get them to straighten up before they went back to college...."

"Nonsense, I was only teasing. The lumpy convertible couch is fine. So here's the plan. I get in late Saturday evening."

"We'll pick you up."

"No. Absolutely not. It's late. I'll grab a cab. And Sunday, all day, we can play. Okay?"

"Well, that's just wonderful. Can't wait to see you."

"Bye, sweetie. See you then." Am I imagining it? My daughter doesn't want me there. Nah, not possible.

Jack is making his way through the turnstile at Yankee Stadium when his cell rings. "Hello?"

"Hi, Dad. Lisa calling. I just had some interesting news."

"Oh, pregnant again?"

"Silly, no. I got a call from Emily. She just got a call from Gladdy. Gladdy is coming to New York."

"What? She's what!? Wait, hold on, I've got another call." Jack listens. "Hello?"

"Hi, Dad. Morrie, here. I had to call you. Guess what? I ran into Gladdy. She's heading to New York tomorrow night."

"Amazing. Your sister's on the other line, giving me the same news. Hold on..."

"Lisa, that's your brother calling to tell me the same thing."

"Okay, Dad, talk to him, but call me later, we need to discuss how we're all going to handle it."

"All?" By now Jack is trying to find the aisle listed on his ticket. Throngs of people are trying to do the same thing, jostling him out of their way. The excitement of the crowd rises as it gets close to starting time.

"Yes, Emily and her gang and us. You're going to have to tell her you're in town. And that we all know one another."

Jack feels a decided chill. "I am? Hmmn, I see. I'll call you later. Bye, Lisa." He switches back to Morrie.

"Dad, still there?"

"Yes, Morrie. Gladdy doesn't know I'm here, does she?"

"Believe me, she wasn't able to get it out of me, and it's gonna cost you big for that loyalty."

"What do you mean?"

"Never mind, I'll fill you in when you get home. Get this, Dad. I hear her phone's ringing off the hook these days, she and her 'assistants' are getting plenty of job offers. Your fiancee is really something."

"She's not my fiancee yet." Maybe never, he worries.

"Anything work out in Jersey?"

"Dead end, I'm afraid." Jack's mind conjures up the tense, chain-smoking cookie maker, Barbara Sutterfield, and how she shut him out.

"Sorry to hear that. But, Dad, don't give up. Maybe you'll catch a break, yet."

"Thanks, son."

"What are you going to tell Gladdy?"

"I don't have a clue." Literally and figuratively, he thinks, depressed.

"Gotta go. I wish you luck with Gladdy. You're gonna need it."

No kidding.

Jack hurries down the stadium steps to his seat on the first baseline where his pal Tim Reilly is waiting for him. He breathes in the crisp early evening air. Finally beginning to cool down. Ummn, wonderful.

"Hey, what took you so long? We're a couple a minutes from the national anthem. I got ya some dogs and watered-down beer. I'm already out fifty bucks."

Jack reaches into his pocket. "Let me pay."

Tim pushes his hand away. "How often do you get up here? Answer: Practically never. I can be a sport for a change."

"Thanks. What's a pennant race without dogs?" Jack looks around, taking in the capacity crowd at Yankee Stadium, anxiously waiting for the opening tilt of the crucial three-game weekend series. A sea of pinstripes waves before him. The fans are already screaming. He feels like a kid again, like when his dad took him to the Yankee games. Those were golden, wonderful days. With players who made history: DiMaggio, Mickey Mantle, the Babe...A boy, his dad, and baseball--the American way of life, when times seemed less complicated.

In between bites, Jack comments, "All these free agents, who knows who's who anymore."

"And how lucky you were still in town and I could get another seat. It only cost me a couple a hundred bucks."

Jack quickly reaches in his pocket again, but his pal Tim stops him once more, grinning. "Kidding. My pal Fisher couldn't come. Measles. Got it from his boy."

"Not that I deserve to be here. I said I wouldn't go to a game until I solved the case."