“No, I’m afraid my driving days are on hold,” Ida Mae admitted. “More’s the pity.”
“You’ll soon be back to normal,” Eloise said. “You’re one of the lucky ones.”
Ida Mae felt emboldened by Eloise’s sudden show of friendship. “Eloise, are you going to be in that wheelchair for long?”
“Probably for the rest of my life,” Eloise said. “I fell and broke my hip, and that’s usually the death knell for a woman my age. I did heal, but things didn’t quite go back to normal, so I don’t have use of my leg.”
“I’m so sorry.” Ida Mae felt very foolish about her own temper tantrums. True, she did have two casts, but she had no reason to believe she wouldn’t return to full function in a matter of weeks.
“I’ll go ask at the desk and see if I can find Jane’s new address,” Arlette said, rising and leaving the two wheeled women alone.
“It’s always sad when there’s a death here, and I was particularly sad to see Beverly pass from us.” Eloise pulled a tissue from her sleeve and patted the tip of her nose. “She was something else.”
“Yes, she was,” Ida Mae said, wishing she’d met Beverly and knew for herself what Eloise meant.
“Well, we all face our own mortality at one time or another. Some of us are meant to stay on this earth for just a short while, and some old buzzards won’t die no matter what you do to them,” Eloise continued. “Look at George. He’s been a circus performer, a horse trainer, a probation officer, and a bounty hunter. He’s been kicked in the head by a horse, he fell from the trapeze, and he was even shot. But he’s bounced back every single time.”
“He really did all that?” Ida Mae suddenly found her date for that evening a bit more intriguing.
“He really did. He showed us pictures one night. It just makes me wonder how the mighty wheels of life turn. Who decides who will live and who will die? How is it all determined? Or is it chance, like throwing darts at a board filled with water balloons?”
Eloise’s voice had taken on a dreamy quality, and Ida Mae knew she was contemplating some of the great mysteries of the universe. She had the answers to Eloise’s questions, and she wanted to share them, but she felt restrained, as though it wasn’t the right time. Ida Mae sent a quick prayer heavenward.
Neither one of us is getting any younger, she told the Lord. What if something happens to me or to her and I haven’t shared what I know?
She felt comfort, as though there would be plenty of time, and she knew she’d have to content herself with that for now.
Arlette returned, a piece of paper in her hand. “I have Jane’s address and telephone number. They couldn’t just give me the information, so they called Jane’s daughter and she gave permission.”
“Can I go on day trips?” Ida Mae asked Eloise. “I hadn’t thought about that before, but I’d like to go out and visit Jane.”
“There shouldn’t be a problem,” Eloise said. “You’re in good health, and if someone else drives, you should be fine. Of course, you’ll need to check it out with the medical staff.”
As Arlette pushed Ida Mae back to her room, Ida Mae could hardly control her excitement. “I’m so glad you were able to track down Jane. She may be the only person in this place who knows what Beverly was talking about.”
“After we check with the doctors, we can call Jane’s daughter and set up an appointment,” Arlette said. “I’m pretty excited about it myself.”
Dr. Wilson came to Ida Mae’s room just before dinner and did a cursory check, clearing her for a short outing. “But you’re still meeting with me for a full exam on Monday, so don’t think you’re getting away with anything,” she joked. “I’m only here now in case you wanted to go out for a Sunday visit.”
“I did, so I appreciate your time,” Ida Mae said. “And I will keep my appointment Monday.”
“You’d better. I know where you live.”
“Why can’t more doctors be that friendly?” Ida Mae wondered aloud as Arlette prepared to leave. “Usually they just jab you with needles and pat you on the head.”
“Anymore, it’s the nurses who do the needle jabbing.” Arlette put her hand on the doorknob. “It’s strange, though. Eden said Dr. Wilson was very unfriendly when she interviewed her.”
“Maybe she’s scared of the press,” Ida Mae suggested. “But she has a good bedside manner.”
“I don’t know, but I do find it curious.” Arlette turned the knob halfway, then paused. “Have fun on your date tonight.”
“It’s not a date,” Ida Mae protested. “It’s two old people going to see a movie together.”
“Sounds like a date to me. Have a good time, but remember who you are.”
“Oh, hush up.”
“I’ll pick you up at nine in the morning to go visit Jane,” Arlette promised as she went out the door.
Ida Mae really wanted to throw a pillow at Arlette’s retreating back, but she couldn’t reach one from where she sat, and she didn’t think it would be quite right to ring for a nurse to do it for her. A date, of all things! That was just silly. At the same time, though, she wondered what she should wear.
It had been a very long day packed with activity, and Ida Mae was sorely tempted to cancel her outing with George. But she decided it wouldn’t be fair to make a promise and then break it, so she dutifully prepared to be sociable. George showed up at her door right on time, pushed by a grinning Alex. Michelle was there too, ready to help Ida Mae maneuver her own set of wheels. The foursome proceeded down the hall, George beaming like he’d swallowed a lighthouse. Ida Mae wondered, not for the first time, what she’d gotten herself into. Was she leading the poor man on?
In the common area, the doors covering the large screen TV had been thrown back, and the scent of buttered popcorn filled the air. The furniture had been rearranged to create a semicircle in front of the screen, and several of the residents were already in place.
“What would you like to drink?” George asked.
“Root beer,” Ida Mae said, thinking back on all the times she had gone to the movies as a little girl and sat in the darkness, wishing she could be a star like Margaret O’Brien. She always had a root beer when she went to the movies, but sometimes she became so involved in the story, it was warm before she remembered to drink it.
“Root beer it is.”
Alex and George moved off through the crowd to get snacks, while Michelle positioned Ida Mae’s chair a few rows back from the center of the screen.
“How’s that?” the nurse asked.
“As long as no one sits in front of me wearing a tall cowboy hat, it’s fine,” Ida Mae said.
Michelle patted her on the shoulder, her bracelets jingling as she did. “You have a good time. I’ll be in the back of the room if you need anything.”
As the residents settled in, Debbie came up to the front.
“Good evening, everyone,” she said. “We’re so glad you could join us tonight for our movie. It’s a wonderful film, and we think you’ll enjoy it.”
Ida Mae wasn’t sure why Debbie felt the need to introduce the show, but she was the director of the center, so she could probably do whatever she wanted.
The movie was wonderful, and Ida Mae couldn’t help but feel grateful for her many blessings at that moment. Her broken bones still ached a little, but she was surrounded by new friends and she had help when she needed it, but also privacy when she wanted it. She was still a little worried about paying for her stay at the retirement center. Her insurance was supposed to pick up most of it, but she wasn’t sure how much would be her responsibility. For right then, however, she decided not to think about it and to just enjoy it while it lasted.
“That was a great film,” George said as the end credits appeared. “They just don’t make them like that anymore.”
“True,” Ida Mae said, “although there are a lot of good movies being made today, as well. Have you seen Pirates of the Caribbean?”
George looked at her blankly, so
she smiled and said, “Next movie is my treat. I’ll have Arlette rent the DVDs and bring them in.”
Before taking them back to their rooms, Alex and Michelle wheeled George and Ida Mae outside to look at the stars. It was a gorgeous night. The heat of the day had finally diminished, and to Ida Mae the stars looked more vibrant than ever. But then, she hadn’t taken the time to look up. She was always so busy.
“I wanted to be a movie stuntman growing up.” George’s voice brought her out of her reverie.
“Why didn’t you do it?” she asked. “I understand you’ve had a number of exciting careers. Seems to me you’d be perfect.”
“I never quite made it to Hollywood. I was working my way across the country when I stopped in San Antonio, out of money. A rancher took me in, asked for my help rounding up his cattle, and I fell in love with his daughter. We got married and started raising our family, and Hollywood just didn’t seem as important anymore.”
“Families do put things in perspective, don’t they?” Ida Mae mused.
“They sure do. We had three children, two girls and one boy, and they’re just wonderful kids. I have to give my late wife credit for that. I didn’t have much to do with it.”
“What was her name?” Ida Mae asked.
“Rosalina. She was a gorgeous creature—her mother was from Mexico, and Rosalina had her black hair and dark brown eyes. I was smitten at first sight.”
Ida Mae guessed George was remembering back to the day when he’d first met the beautiful Rosalina. Ida Mae knew it was silly, but she felt dowdy in comparison—dowdy and very old, even though she knew she’d been somewhat of a looker in her youth. But why was she comparing her elderly self with Rosalina in her prime? And why did she care what George thought of her? The man couldn’t even keep his hair on straight.
“She died about ten years ago, from heart failure,” he said. “It was a sad, sad day, but I don’t have any regrets. We had a wonderful life together.”
“That’s how it should be,” Ida Mae said, wishing her marriage had also been free from regret. She and her children had been emotionally abused for years, and while she had forgiven her husband, she still sometimes wished she had more positive memories to bring out on starry nights and share with a friend.
“I’m sorry,” George said. “I’m wool-gathering. Tell me a little more about yourself.” He glanced around. “What do you do in your free time, when you’re not solving mysteries?”
She laughed. “I’m still trying to find some of this ‘free time’ people keep talking about. If I want to get anything done, I have to make time for it.” She thought for a moment. “I really like to read and watch movies. Tonight was a perfect outing for me. Thank you.”
“Thank you for coming with me. What else do you like to do?”
“Well, I like to cook.” She thought for a few more seconds. “That’s really about it.”
“And how do you feel about the circus?”
“The circus?” Ida Mae was completely taken aback at this unexpected question. “I’ve never been to the circus.”
“You’ve never been? Ever?” George looked shocked. “My dear lady, you haven’t lived if you haven’t been to the circus.”
Ida Mae shrugged. “I’ve just never gone.”
“Well, we’re going to have to change that.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out some tickets. “Ringling Bros. and Barnum and Bailey are coming to town next week. I pestered the center for about a month to arrange for the more mobile residents to go. They finally relented, and I ordered the tickets.” He spread them out like a fan. “Fifteen of us are going. Say you’ll be one of them.”
“I’m one of the more mobile residents?” she questioned.
“Hey, some of them are almost unconscious.”
His eyes twinkled, and Ida Mae didn’t have the heart to say no. “Okay, I’ll come. But only if you’ll tell me the secrets of the circus, how they do all the tricks.”
“There are no tricks in the circus! Only . . . magic,” he said, waving his fingers in the air. “And it will be a magical night, I promise.”
Back in her room and tucked into bed, Ida Mae thought that over. A magical night—she could use one of those.
15
Jane Howell was a frail little woman, propped up on the couch with a variety of brightly colored cushions. She greeted Ida Mae and Arlette warmly when they arrived on Sunday morning. Thankfully, the house had a wheelchair ramp, so Ida Mae didn’t have to contend with the ever-looming threat of stairs.
“It’s good to meet you,” Jane said, holding out her hand. Ida Mae took it, marveling at how she could feel every bone in the other woman’s fingers. Jane’s strength might be ebbing away, but her brain was clearly active and alert.
“Thank you for allowing us to come over,” Ida Mae said. “We know this is awfully short notice.”
“Well, how could I turn away a friend of Beverly’s?”
A stab of remorse went through Ida Mae’s heart, and she decided to be as straightforward with Jane as she could. “I’m hoping you can help us with something, Jane. Beverly was upset about something right before she died, and she tried to tell her daughter about it, but Peggy didn’t quite understand everything her mother said. Can you shed any light on the matter for us?”
“Yes, Beverly was very concerned,” Jane said, a crease of worry in her forehead. “She said she’d discovered something that could be bad for people she cared about. She didn’t want to discuss it in detail, because she was worried I might be put in danger too. But she wrote it all down and hid it in her special hiding place, and she said she’d tell Peggy where to look.”
“Peggy said her mother was pretty incoherent. I don’t think the message got delivered.”
“Oh, that’s too bad,” Jane said. “I thought everything was under control.”
Ida Mae shook her head. “I’m sorry to say, no.”
Jane pressed her fingers to her temples. “Oh, poor Beverly. She wanted so badly to share her information with someone. She’s probably on the other side going crazy with frustration.”
“Or maybe she realized it was all a misunderstanding, and she’s resting in peace,” Ida Mae said consolingly.
“I hope you’re right,” Jane said.
“Was Beverly often confused about things?” Arlette asked.
“Well, she was forgetful from time to time, and she had her good days and her bad. I think we’re all that way, aren’t we? But she’d had a string of good days right there at the end. We had some wonderfully long discussions and she was alert the whole time. It was such a shame to see her on a bad day, though. She’d forget what she wanted to say, and then she’d cry because she was so upset about it.”
“How sad,” Ida Mae murmured, wishing she had some words of comfort for this devoted friend. “I do have one more question, if you don’t mind. Beverly told her daughter you agreed someone was out to get her.”
Jane smiled gently. “I mostly just listened to Beverly when she was in a state. That’s all she needed from me, and it’s what I could give. I’m afraid I don’t know who she was so afraid of, but I don’t think anyone was out to get her.” She sighed. “The poor dear.”
They visited a little while longer, then Ida Mae and Arlette said their good-byes and made their way outside. As Ida Mae hoisted herself onto her good foot to get into the van, she paused. “So, there was a secret hiding place, but Peggy couldn’t find it. Eden’s going over to Peggy’s tomorrow, isn’t she?”
“Yes,” Arlette said. “I hope she’s able to give us some good news.”
Eden opened the last box and began sorting through the contents. It was hot in Peggy’s garage, and sweat trickled down the small of her back as she worked. She and Peggy had gone through every box and every scrap of furniture, looking in linings, hunting for secret drawers, but found nothing.
“I thought Shady Aspens provided the furniture for the bedrooms.” Eden arched her back to straighten the kinks.
“They do, but residents can bring in their own pieces as well,” Peggy explained. “Mother brought her own dresser, bookcase, and nightstand—they’re heirloom pieces from her grandmother—and let Shady Aspens provide the rest.”
“Well, I hate to admit defeat, but I’m seeing nothing,” Eden said.
“Neither am I.”
They went inside Peggy’s house and she poured two glasses of cold lemonade.
“Thanks for letting me come over to look,” Eden said. “I know it’s inconvenient.”
“Don’t worry about it. I can’t thank you enough for being willing to look into this for me.”
“We’re missing something, Peggy, and it’s driving me crazy.” Eden rubbed her neck, where tension had caused a knot to form. “I’m good at clues and mysteries. But this one . . . what was her secret hiding place?”
“I wonder if that was just part of her dementia,” Peggy said. “My mother was an absolute dear—I loved her so much—but I have to admit there were times when she didn’t make a lot of sense. I always tried to humor her—you know, not let her know I didn’t understand—but it wasn’t always easy.”
Eden thought about that for a moment. What were the odds Beverly had been confused when she’d told Peggy about her fears? Pretty good. Eden bit into a piece of ice from her glass, thinking. They were basing this investigation on the testimony of a woman who had Alzheimer’s, yet they were proceeding as if they had sure and certain knowledge. Were they making a mistake? Would this prove to be a colossal waste of time?
Arlette hung up her phone and turned to Ida Mae. “Eden and Peggy found nothing.”
“Nothing?” Ida Mae thought for a minute. “Well, then, whatever she hid must still be at the care center.”
“But how is that possible?” Arlette asked. “From what I understand, they go in and clean the room from top to bottom every time a client moves out. They have the carpets and the draperies done and everything.”
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