Getting Old Is to Die for (2 page)

"Close that window! It's already freezing in here." Gladdy shivered despite the fact she wore two sweaters over her brown woolen dress. Damn that landlord of theirs. He only allowed the super to heat up the radiator twice a day, for one hour at a time. Twelve stories high, six apartments on each floor, and nobody ever listened to the tenants' complaints. What a harsh winter this had been. And living near the Hudson River with its frigid winds only made it worse. She wished it were spring. Winters always depressed her, with the icy brilliance of the sun and the oppressively long black nights.

Emily pulled herself inside and shut the window.

Gladdy shivered again, but it wasn't from the cold. She hugged herself and looked at the clock. She, too, wished Jack would get home. Their neighborhood, even the area around the university where Jack taught English, was becoming unsafe. Drugs were starting to be a problem. She didn't like her husband coming home in the dark.

"Don't you want to help me decorate your cake?" She picked up a spatula and beckoned Emily, who joined her at their red Formica and chrome kitchen table.

Emily's long brown hair was damp and stringy from the night air and she shook it wildly, laughing as she did. She took the spatula from her mother and continued the smooth flat layering of the icing.

"Do you think you'll ever pick another kind of cake on one of your birthdays?" Gladdy asked.

"No, never. Chocolate and vanilla's always gonna be my favorite."

The older her daughter got, the more they looked alike. Same oval face, same greenish-gray eyes. Same straight hair that refused to curl. Emily was tall for her age and lanky, the way Gladdy had been at her age. No one ever doubted they were mother and child.

"Tell me again why I was born on New Year's Eve."

Gladdy leaned over and kissed Emily's forehead. "You ask that every single year."

"And you always give me the same silly explanation. I can't believe you planned it that way."

Gladdy smiled. "You were my New Year's Eve present for your daddy."

"When I grow up no one will ever remember my birthday. My friends will all be too busy drinking champagne and making silly resolutions."

"Don't worry. There's no way they can forget this date, nor would they ever forget someone as wonderful as you." She reached out and gently wiped a bit of chocolate off Emily's cheek.

The icing finished, the eleven candles placed carefully with the extra one to grow on, Emily raced to the window again. "What's taking Daddy so long?"

"He'll be here soon. He needs to finish the revisions on his textbook." Gladdy felt a twinge of guilt saying that, when at breakfast that morning she'd chided Jack for the very same thing. In fact, she remembered ruefully, they quarreled about his being late for his child's party. Something they rarely ever did.

"Nobody has to work on New Year's Eve." Emily pouted. "And where's Aunt Evvie and Uncle Joe and Cousin Martha? Even they're late."

Gladdy smiled.
Emily may have her mother's looks but she sure has her aunt's impatient disposition and endless energy.
"Well, I'm sure they're walking carefully, so they don't fall on the slippery ice."

"I'll bet they get me the same present. Every year another Barbie doll. Don't they know I'm too old for that?" Emily hoisted herself onto the red kitchen counter and dangled her legs. "And you and Daddy will give me books again."

"You love to read."

"Of course I do. I just want to be surprised sometime."

"Remember what your daddy says about books?"

"Yes, I do." She mimicked, "'Books are the windows of the soul. With books you'll never be lonely.'"

She jumped down and raced to the window, opening it again. "I think I see Daddy coming. I recognize how he swings his briefcase. Now my party can start."

Gladdy smiled and walked over to the window to join Emily. Jack always waved to them before he came up. She didn't want to miss it. She reached out and gently guided a wisp of Emily's hair behind her ear.

Jack had named their daughter after the poet Emily Dickinson, hoping his beautiful child might one day be a poet, too.

Suddenly a Dickinson quote popped into Gladdy's head.

Because I could not stop for Death,

He kindly stopped for me--

It was then she heard the scream.

1

TWO LOST SOULS

I
t's nine-fifteen
A.M.
My sister, Evvie, who is seventy-three to my seventy-five, sits in my tiny kitchen in her bathing suit drinking coffee. Our towels are draped around our shoulders since the air conditioning is turned up high. September weather here in Fort Lauderdale has been especially hot. We aren't saying much because by now we are talked out. The phone rings. Evvie sighs.

"What do I tell them this time?" I ask as I match her sigh for sigh.

"Same as you did last time. We'll be down when we get there. Let them splash around 'til then."

I answer the phone. This time it's Sophie. I guess the girls are taking turns. "I know we're late," I tell her before she can say a word.

She speaks so loud, I have to hold the receiver away from my ear. "Soon everyone will leave."

"Good," Evvie whispers.

"They're still waiting for you," I report to her.

"That's exactly why I'm up here, instead of down at the pool. If I stall long enough they'll go home."

I hold out the phone to her. "You want to tell Sophie?"

"No. You handle it."

"We're on our way," I lie.

"You've got to face them sometime," I tell Evvie, hanging up the phone.

"Later, better than sooner."

I walk over and pull her out of the chair. "Enough. Come on. You've got to get on with your life."

Evvie laughs bitterly. "Gladdy, that's what I keep telling you."

Neither one of us is in great emotional shape. Evvie can't pull herself together since her tragic love affair with Philip Smythe ended, and I'm not in great shape, either, thanks to Jack acting like a yo-yo. Here today, gone tomorrow. I'm still upset that my boyfriend--the second Jack in my life--no longer wants to see me because of a silly quarrel. He feels I chose my girls over him. I fear I've lost him forever.

It's been worse for my sister, though. Our private investigation team, Gladdy Gold and Associates, thought we were taking on a minor case at a posh retirement facility in Palm Beach, but it turned out to be dangerous for Evvie. She truly fell in love for the first time in her life, and it was almost the death of her. Evvie is overwrought with despair and can't face anyone; she's been hiding out, mostly in my apartment, ever since.

The doorbell rings. I don't need to guess who. It's the girls, ignoring our pathetic excuses and coming to drag us out of here. Evvie is rigid with fear. I kiss her cheek. "Just remember, all our neighbors think you're a hero, so get into your actress mode and convince them."

We are a rather ragtag group of seniors. We've all lived in Lanai Gardens in Fort Lauderdale for give or take twenty-five years. During those years we each had our own selection of friends. But as husbands and friends passed away, we regrouped. So now it's Evvie and me and three other women who take care of one another. Since I'm the only one still driving I seem to be the leader of this oddball pack of different personalities.

Our girls peer in through the screen door. Ida, arms folded, taps her foot impatiently. Sophie, grandly attired as usual in a color-coordinated bathing outfit from top to toes, has her hands on her hips. Bella meekly stands still, ever worried about making waves in our little private universe.

Here's a hair color update on our little gang. Ida, salt and pepper. Bella, totally white. Sophie, who changes color on a whim, flaunts her new shade of the month: apricot. Me, still lots of brown but getting grayer by the minute. However, Evvie's recently dyed vivid auburn hair shows no gray returning yet. I imagine every time she looks in the mirror she thinks of Philip, the man who made her feel young and beautiful again.

"So,
nu,
" Ida says. "Coming or not coming?"

Evvie pushes open the screen, which makes them all jump out of her way. As she heads for the elevator she calls back at them, "Come on, let's get the show on the road."

The pool is The Pool. Attendance required. The gathering place of the residents of Lanai Gardens, Phase Two. Home of breaking news. Gossip hot off the griddle. Touch base time. With all the usual suspects. However, there are a few new permutations and combinations. Irving Weiss is not in attendance. Millie is now in a permanent Alzheimer's facility and he visits his beloved wife every single morning. Mary Mueller, our in-house nurse who saved Millie's life, drives him there every day.

Our newlyweds--Tessie Hoffman Spankowitz, an excitable fifty-six, and Sol Spankowitz, a decrepit and depressed seventy-nine--are in the pool. Hefty Tessie is trying to teach her new husband how to swim. It's hard to tell whether he is more terrified of drowning or of his wife.

Sol is not a happy man.

We all head for our usual chaise lounges. Heaven forbid someone doesn't stick to the unwritten seating chart. All hell would break loose.

"Hey, here they come," calls Hy Binder. "Just in time for my new joke."

One of the Canadians applauds Evvie. "Can't wait to hear about your big adventure."

No one is a fan of Hy's jokes. But then again, besides his brain-dead wife, Lola, who would be?

Evvie, who is wearing sunglasses and a huge straw hat to hide her face and feelings, parries back, "Hey, goody, goody, just in time." Needless to say, Evvie hates Hy's jokes but right now she'll stand for anything to keep herself out of the limelight.

Hy jumps in fast before someone stops him. He bows to the newlyweds in the pool. "This joke is dedicated to the new Mr. and Mrs. Spankowitz."

Tessie grins and wraps her huge arms around Sol's puny, wattled, tense neck.

The Canadians make a point of going back to their newspapers and magazines. Many others groan. Evvie sits up to listen as if with rapt attention.

Hy emotes. "Sam goes to his doctor and says, 'Doc, my wife is trying to poison me.' His doctor says, 'Sam, don't be silly.' He says, 'No, really, she's out to get me.' The doctor sighs and says, 'Bring your wife, Maisie, in to see me.' The next day he does and the doctor and Maisie go into his office. Sam waits outside. And waits and waits. Finally two hours later the doctor rushes out, his face a mass of sweat. 'What should I do, Doc?' Sam asks. 'Take the poison,' he says, 'take the poison!'"

Tessie looks confused. Sol nods, getting it.

Then the usual boos erupt, except for Sophie, who thinks it's hilarious and applauds.

Enya Slovak, our concentration camp survivor, looks up at him and says, "Hy Binder, shame on you!" With that, she goes back to reading her book.

Evvie abruptly stands. "I forgot I have to make an important call. Bye, gang." She walks away, leaving waves of disappointment. Our neighbors had hoped for some hot gossip.

Trying to cheer us up, Bella cooks dinner, her famous chicken soup with matzo balls, parsnips, and soup greens.

Bella's apartment is always immaculate. I don't know how she does it at eighty-three all by herself. The rest of us share a cleaning service that comes to help us out. Not Bella. She says she loves cleaning. And washing windows. And ironing. Yuk.

But tonight Bella's good intentions aren't working. I am not enjoying my dinner. Neither is Evvie, since the girls decided we needed a lecture along with our meal. The topic is their opinions about love. They each have a pet theme.

Ida, the man-hater: "Men are no good anyway. Who needs them?"

Sophie, Ms. Malaprop: "They're like buses. Another one will come along any year."