Getting Old is the Best Revenge (10 page)

Now, trying to hide my smile, even I can't resist. "Or suddenly you want to discuss
Queen
Elizabeth."

"Or
King
Hussein," adds Sophie.

Bella braves up enough to hum "
Three
Blind Mice."

" 'Tea for tw
o . . .' "
Sophie also hums maliciously.

Bella whispers, "Oh, boy, do I need
sex!
"

"You have one hell of a lot of nerve!" Evvie shouts.

Ida gets up and throws her cards against the wall. "That does it! I quit!"

The doorbell rings.

Saved by the bell. Everybody freezes, ashamed of their outbursts.

"Maybe it's time for pie," Sophie suggests as she goes to the door.

The girls get busy making space, removing the cards and setting out the cups and plates.

Sophie looks through the peephole. "Who is it?" she trills.

"Registered letter. I need you to sign," a voice answers.

Sophie leaps away as if she were shot.

"What's wrong?" Evvie asks, alarmed.

"Someone died! I don't want to know about it. Go away," she shouts at the door.

Sophie starts keening. Bella flops onto the couch, fanning herself.

We're aware of an envelope and a piece of paper being pushed under the door. "Just sign it and slip it back. OK?" the delivery man calls. Obviously he's dealt with hysterical old ladies before.

Sophie, Bella, and Ida stare at the envelope as if it were a rattlesnake.

Evvie, disgusted with the bunch of them, goes and picks it up. She signs the receipt and pushes it back under the door.

Sophie covers her eyes with both hands. "I never in my life got a registered letter."

Evvie tries to hand it to her. "Are you going to open it or should I?"

"You!"

Evvie takes the letter out of its envelope and reads. "Oh, boy!" She starts jumping up and down. "Oh, boyohboyohboy!" Now she starts to twirl, holding the letter high.

"What is it already?" Ida hits her on the arm.

"We won! We won the free trip on the bingo cruise!"

Now the girls are jumping up and down, singsonging "We won!" as Sophie pulls out of her panic attack.

"Let me see that!" She grabs the letter out of Evvie's hands.

There is a long, pregnant silence as the girls grin, now excitedly holding their breath.

Sophie's hands go to her hips. "Waddaya mean,
we
?"

The grins disappear; grimaces replace them.

"Waddaya mean, 'waddaya mean,
we'
?" asks Bella plaintively as she nibbles nervously on her prune
rugallah.

Evvie grabs the letter and waves it in Sophie's face. "We're all going!"

Sophie grabs it back. "Fine. Go buy tickets! I've got mine and I'm gonna take my own sweet time to pick a roommate! And it might not be any of you!"

Ida tries to grab the letter from her, but Sophie isn't going to fall for that again; she holds on tightly. Ida shrieks, "Since when aren't we partners?"

"Since now!"

I look at this heavy-breathing, fist-clenching, glaring foursome and I think, This is bad. Very bad.

17

Yet Another Stakeout

W
e're once again at Salvatore's Bar and Grill in

Plantation. A very different mood permeates the old Chevy tonight. No card playing, no eating, no gossiping. Nothing but silence. No one is speaking to anyone since the free cruise raffle brouhaha. The girls are staring straight ahead out the windshield. All day long, it's been arguments and threats and words spoken that hurt to the very bone.

Sophie has made it clear she won't be picking a companion from this group unless the behavior improves. Bella has been vying for that favor, more than willing to beg if necessary, but the other girls demand that they remain a united front.

Evvie, with her long experience as secretary of the Condo Association, has spelled it out for us: We all get to go. Five tickets would cost five thousand dollars. But if we subtract Sophie's two free tickets, then we only have to pay for three tickets. So, if everyone chips in for the three thousand, it will only cost each of us six hundred dollars, a savings of four hundred each. And we can all afford that.

Everyone but Sophie agrees. I can't blame her for being sore. She's getting her ticket free; why should she chip in six hundred dollars? But since we've all shared any good fortune in the past, even I have to admit that Evvie's way is fair for all.

Not that I'm looking forward to a bingo tournament, but the travel part sounds like fun. All those pretty ports along the way to Cancun. I start to think back on all the places my husband and I planned to visit, places we never did get to see. But I stop myself and turn my attention back to the here and now, where we are at an impasse.

"Elio and the guys should be coming out pretty soon," I say, hoping to break the tension.

Nothing.

Bella, always in the middle in the backseat, squirms to get more comfortable.

"Stop that wiggling!" says Ida angrily.

Bella freezes.

"I was thinking," says Evvie, turning to look at the backseaters, "that we girls might take a bus trip to, say, Key West. That is, when Miss Pennypincher is on her cruise,
alone.
"

Ida jumps right in. "I was thinking along the lines of Disney World. I hear they've added some new attractions."

Bella looks alarmed. "What are you talking about? I want to go on the bingo cruise!" She turns to Sophie. "Are you sure my one dollar didn't give
me
the winning ticket?"

Sophie finally speaks. "No! It was my ticket!"

Now the rage bubbles over again.

"Either you chip in with the rest of us and we all share the expenses or you die alone!" Ida is shrieking.

"Damn straight!" says Evvie. "You can be on your deathbed yelling for help and
nobody
will come to you!"

"I might," Bella says timidly.

"No, you
won't
!" both Ida and Evvie shout at her.

"They're coming out," I announce.

All eyes swivel toward the men exiting the bar.

We watch in silence as Elio gets into his car and starts the engine. I turn on my ignition, as well.

As usual, Ida leans anxiously over my shoulder and Sophie leans over Evvie's.

Evvie pushes her back. "Get away from me, traitor!"

Sophie falls back deep into her seat, suffering.

I follow Elio, but he doesn't make the right turn at his home street. This time, he turns left.

"This is it! Don't lose him," Evvie says excitedly.

"Yeah, stay on his tail," Sophie adds.

"Shut up," Ida says to her. "As far as we're concerned, you no longer exist!"

Two blocks later, Elio pulls up in front of a small pink stucco house with a dim light over the door. I drive past, then stop and park.

We all watch as Elio gets out of the car carrying a couple of bags with a logo we all know well-- from good old Publix supermarket. He walks up to the front door, takes out a key, and lets himself in.

Bella gasps. "And two blocks from his own house." She shakes her head. "Shameless!"

"I knew it!" says Ida gleefully.

"Okay," I tell them, "here's the plan. We all go in a different direction and pick a window to look into. See what you can and then get back to the car, fast. Got it?"

"Am I allowed to go?" Sophie whimpers. No one answers her. I feel sorry for her by now, but I can't intercede. What, and get that gang on my back, as well?

Everyone spreads out toward a different window. Sophie follows timidly.

We don't recognize the hissing sound until it's too late. The night sprinklers come on. Instantly we are all drenched. We run back across the lawn as fast as our poor old legs will let us. The dog next door hears us and starts barking.

Breathlessly we throw ourselves back into the car and I careen off, the tires squealing.

We're sitting in the Flamingo Road Media Cafe, still damp. The towel I keep in my trunk to wipe windows is all we have to dry us off, and it barely does the job.

Keeping to the theme of the book, then the movie, and finally the beloved TV series about sex, greed, and revenge in steamy Florida, the bright orange walls of the cafe are covered with posters and memorabilia of said three media. The plates are painted with flamingos, the lamps are shaped like flamingos. Ditto, the glassware; everywhere one looks one sees pink.

We are shivering and drinking hot tea. Evvie, our movie
maven,
looks around admiringly. "Joan Crawford was great as the hussy with the heart of gold."

"I loved that gorgeous Mark Harmon, who was the hussy's lover in the TV show. Not Joan Crawford this time," says Bella, admiring his image in a photo.

Sophie sits at an adjoining table, soaked and miserable.

I wanted to go directly home, but they voted for hot tea and maybe a piece of Danish. All that stimulation calls for a nosh. Majority rules.

Ida has already complained three times that she's going to get pneumonia from the damn airconditioning.

"So, after all that excitement," I ask, "did anybody see anything?"

A shaking of heads. The rooms were all dark. Bella raises her hand.

"I did."

"Well," says Evvie, "spit it out."

Bella preens at the attention she's getting. "The lights were on in a bedroom. Mr. Siciliano comes in carrying the groceries . . ." She pauses for effect. "And there's a lady sitting up in the bed . . ."

"Just waiting for him," says Ida with satisfaction. "We've got him!"

"Go on," Evvie urges. "What does she look like? Tell us everything!"

"They smile at one another. Then he takes out something from one of the bags and gives it to her."

"What is it?" Sophie, from her own table, can't stand the suspense.

"I don't know, but she ate it."

"Did he take off his clothes?" Evvie asks impatiently.

"I don't know. That's when the sprinklers hit."

"Damn," says Ida. "Just when we were getting to the good part."

"Think, Bella," I say. "I know you only had a few seconds, but make believe you're a camera. What do you see in your picture?"

She closes her eyes dramatically. "A bed. Lamps, a rug." She brightens. "The lady is wearing a very nice peach satin bed jacket!"

"How old is she?" Ida asks.

Bella shrugs. "I don't know. I couldn't see too good without my glasses."

"Think," says Evvie. "What else?"

Bella thinks hard. "There was something . . ."

Everyone is eagerly waiting.

"But I forget."

A series of groans.

I reassure her. "It'll come back; you know it always does."

"Yeah," says Ida, "but sometimes it takes
her
a
week
before her mind turns back on."

"Well," I say, "we can't force it."

"So," says Evvie, "what do we do now?"

"Tell Angelina," says Ida gleefully as she beckons the waitress in pink to refill her teacup. "And collect our blood money."

"I sure hope she doesn't have a gun," worries Bella as she blows at the surface of her tea to cool it off.

"I think we better meet with Elio first," I say. "Let's hear his side of the story."

"Yeah," says Ida. "I want to watch him squirm."

"Maybe he'll give up the floozy," suggests Evvie. "He has to promise never to see her again . . . or else."

"Forget about it," Ida says with a toss of her head. "He's a dead man!"

"That's it! I've had it!" Sophie walks over to our table, hands on hips. "All right already, I give up. We share the cruise tickets!"

There is a chorus of hoorays.

Evvie pats the seat next to her. "Sophie, darling, welcome back to the living."

18

Code Name: Peeper

T
he clubhouse is jammed. I knew I was taking a

chance letting the girls spread the word around Phase Two that we were having a meeting on the peeper situation and that anyone with information or possible solutions should attend.

I admit I have an ulterior motive. Some of our neighbors tend to be jealous of our small success, so I'm hoping that letting them share in the process might quiet down the catty comments. Such as "Hoo-ha, who do they think they are--such big shots now . . ." and a lot more of the same.