Getting Old is to Die For

by Rita Lakin

  “Order the cheesecake,” he says. He smiles.

  “Only if they have blueberry,” I answer.

  Family joke. He always ate the blueberries out of my pie.

  “It’s nice his name is Jack, too. So even if you call out my name by mistake he’ll never know.” He laughs as if he is enjoying himself.

  “Stop that. I’ll never forget you, my beloved husband.”

  “Time you did.”

  “Why is it raining when it isn’t?”

  He shrugs. “Maybe where I am it is.”

  “My darling. I miss you so.”

  “Think of what he’s trying to do for you. What a marvelous act of love. He’s trying to free you.”

  “I don’t want to be free.”

  “It’s enough! It’s time you moved on.”

  He begins to fade as the rain lessens.

  “Wait. Where are you going?”

  “To the past, where I belong.”

  “Gladdy. Gladdy!” Jack moves over to the chair next to me. He shakes me. “Where did you go?”

  I am barraged by the noises. The dishes, the conversations, the traffic.

  I quickly look to the window. The sun is shining. People walk briskly along to the thousands of places that city people go. My dead husband is no longer standing there talking to me. What an imagination.

  “Isn’t it a beautiful day?” I say.

  “You seemed like you went far away.”

  “I’m here now.”

  I take a last look out the window. A young woman holding a puppy in her arms glances at the menu.

  I wave at her.

  She smiles and takes the puppy’s paw and waves back.

  I get up. “Let’s go home, darling.”

  TWO FAMILIES

  Jack warns me I’m about to be surprised. But he won’t tell me anything else. He waits until I can sort of put my face back together again in the tiny ladies’ room of the coffee shop. I do the best I can, but my eyes are still red. We walk slowly, arm in arm, to my daughter and son-in- law’s apartment. I’m aware that he doesn’t ask directions; he knows the way. I ask him more questions, deeper questions about what he found out about Patty Dennison. I crave every little detail. The town she lives in. What people think about her. What they say about her. More about her cousin. There is such a huge vacuum I need to fill.

  And finally, when I have heard enough on that subject, I try to tell Jack about Evvie and how torn apart she is over how her love affair ended. Apparently Morrie has been filling him in all along.

  “Poor Morrie. I gave him such a hard time.”

  Jack laughs. He knows that, too. “Don’t worry. He’s a big boy. Maybe it will teach him a little humility.”

  We arrive at the apartment building. I hold tightly to his jacket.

  “Here we go,” he says, almost too brightly.

  “What else should I know before we go upstairs that you haven’t already told me? Don’t you want to tell me how you know my daughter?”

  “All will be revealed,” he says in his best mysterious voice.

  I use my key to open the door. At first I can’t see anything. The lights are off. “Oh, no.” Have they gone out again?

  Suddenly all the lights are turned on. And a crowd stands in the living room, grinning at me. I look, trying to figure it out. Emily, Alan, Patrick, and Lindsay are on one side, and oh, my God, my granddaughters are home from college, my oldest ones, Elizabeth and Erin. All standing there with goofy smiles on their faces.

  On the other side are... strangers. Don’t tell me they’ve invited more neighbors...?

  Jack points. “Allow me to introduce my family: Lisa, Dan, Jeremy, and Jeffrey, and in the cradle, Molly.”

  I turn to Jack, astonished. “They all know one another?”

  Emily confirms it. “Jack introduced us.”

  “We met at Back to School night,” Patrick contributes.

  I punch Jack’s arm as hard as I can. I am furious. “You did all this without my being here or even knowing about it?”

  Lindsay yells, “I told you she’d be mad.”

  Jack puts his arms over his face and head, protecting himself as best he can. “Help!”

  I punch him again and again. “You don’t tell me where you’re going and I worry myself sick about where you could be! And here you all are having family gatherings without me!”

  “I warned you, Jack,” Emily says.

  I shoot my daughter a dirty look. “Cold cuts, huh?”

  She grins and shrugs.

  “Go get him,” Lindsay cheers her grandma on. “Yeah.” Patrick jumps up and down. Jeffrey and Jeremy begin jumping with him.

  Erin and Elizabeth run over to me, crushing me with big hugs. “What are you doing home?” I ask. “School’s not out.”

  “We didn’t want to miss the fun.” This from Erin.

  Her sister agrees. “Any excuse to take off a couple of days.”

  Jack moves slightly away. “Thanks for saving me, girls.” He bows. “Delighted to meet you.”

  I glower. “I’m not finished with you, yet.”

  I keep shaking my head. I can’t believe it. My heart is so full, I can hardly stand it. Lisa comes over and hugs me. She is so beautiful. Her husband, Dan, gives me a shy hug, too.

  “Champagne,” Alan announces as he begins pouring. Jack hands me a full glass.

  Emily raises her glass. “To my incredible mom, Gladdy.”

  “To Grandma!” All the kids raise their cups of apple cider.

  “To Gladdy,” the adults chorus.

  “To wonderful you.” Jack kisses me. In front of everybody. There’s no getting out of this. Ever. I’m sunk.

  There’s a happy flurry of goodbyes. Lots of hugging and kissing from Jack’s lovely family. The kids’ raucous, though sleepy, “See ya”s. In the background Emily and Alan are already clearing the table of the dessert dishes.

  Then there are just the two of us in the foyer. “What an incredible evening,” I say, holding Jack close.

  “The best,” he says, nuzzling my hair.

  Then it comes to me. Now what? I’m here. He’s here. What do we do now? We are now officially a couple in the eyes of these two traditional families. I’m sure the women are already planning engagement showers and invitations, the whole shebang. The men, making golf dates together. Heavens, even the kids from both families are melding. Especially young Jeremy, already mad about adorable Lindsay.

  Well, I came here to be with family; now I’ve got them in spades!

  But how do I feel? What do I want to do right now? What happens now?

  As usual Jack reads my mind. He kisses me gently on my forehead. “This has been some emotional roller-coaster day for you.”

  “To put it mildly.”

  “You need to get a good night’s rest.” He smirks.

  Yes, it’s a smirk and I know what he’s thinking. Then he actually says it to me.

  “Right now I’d like to tear our clothes off and have us do amazing acrobatic things to one another. Depending on what our old bodies can do.”

  I look at him, astonished.

  Then he laughs. “Meet me tomorrow for breakfast. Nine A.M.? Meet me in the lobby of the Dartford Hotel.” He hands me a card with the address. “We have a lot to discuss. And to plan.”

  After one more kiss, this one quite passionate, Jack leaves.

  I return to the living room where Emily is vacuuming. She grins at me. “Must have been four pounds of potato chips I just vacuumed up. Remind me to never buy them again when all these kids get together.”

  I flop down on the couch. “You amaze me, all of you. All this plotting and I never catch on. I’m suspicious as hell, but I never get it.”

  “How could you have imagined this?”

  She turns off the machine and she sits next to me on the couch, too, kicking her shoes off as she does.

  “I couldn’t.” I smile. “All of you running out early on a Sunday morning to get away from me? I s
hould have known. You all hate getting up early on Sunday. You usually stay in all day reading the Times.”

  “Guilty.” Emily moves closer to me and leans on my shoulder.

  “Sunday night pizza and a movie with the neighbors? A tradition? Still, dummy me doesn’t catch on.”

  “They are good friends, and they jumped at the idea of being in on a secret.”

  I lean over and kiss her. “You’re the greatest. Loony, but wonderful.”

  “About Jack...”

  “Yes,” I say, leery now. “What about him?”

  “Well, if you need my approval, you’ve got it. He’s quite a guy.”

  “He is, isn’t he?”

  “So, what are you doing here?”

  For a moment I don’t get it, but then I do. I pull myself straight up on the couch. I feel myself . blushing. “Emily!” I don’t know what else to say.

  Emily gets up, yawns, and stretches. “I’m exhausted and off to bed. You know what you look and sound like? Me, at fifteen. See you when I see you.”

  With that, she walks out on me, grinning and chuckling.

  I sit there, stunned. My daughter assumes Jack and I have been to bed together.

  How can I tell her that, because of my indecisiveness, we haven’t? If I tell my daughter, who is now behaving like the parent instead of the child, how I mucked up Pago Pago, she’ll laugh herself silly.

  GLADDY AND JACK TEAM UP

  Need I say what I went through in the morning? I looked through the few clothes I brought for family visiting: nothing dressy or, dare I say it, sexy? Not that I have too many articles of clothing under that category. I do the best I can with a pale blue cotton skirt and blouse and dark blue sweater. And a very plain pair of beige sandals. Jack is waiting for me and I am dressed to go out and meet him for breakfast.

  I’m still reeling over what a turn of events occurred yesterday. Never in a million years could I have guessed it. What I wanted to do last night was call Evvie in Westport, but it was so late when we turned in, I couldn’t make the call. Later, when I have a minute.

  I grab a quick cup of coffee in the kitchen, and this is what I get: Emily flashes me an enigmatic smile. Obviously she and Alan exchanged some choice pillow talk last night. Alan looks at me slyly, then quickly buries his head in the morning Times.

  “Grandma, what are you doing here!” This from my tousle-haired, nineteen-year-old Erin with the sleep-encrusted eyes.

  I look stern. “Where am I supposed to be?” I pray she doesn’t answer.

  She giggles and goes back to pouring soy milk over her granola.

  I’m glad Elizabeth’s still sleeping or there would be another country heard from.

  Thank goodness eleven-year-old Lindsay is clueless. Or else not quite awake yet. Her nose is in a textbook. “Shh,” she says, “I’ve got a test today and I need quiet.”

  “Well, you always leave it to the last minute,” Erin snipes.

  “How can I study any sooner? All we do around here is party, party, party.” Lindsay snaps her book shut and, with a haughty shake of her head, takes it with her down the hallway to her room.

  I could swear she’s muttering something like “Old people don’t do sex anyway.”

  Not so clueless after all. I hear Alan chuckling behind his newspaper.

  That does it. “Well, I’m off. See you later.”

  As I am about to shut the door behind me I hear Emily call, “Don’t hurry. On our account.”

  I groan. Families!

  We have breakfast in a small restaurant down the corner from Jack’s hotel. Jack informs me his hotel’s coffee shop is toxic and to be avoided at all costs.

  I can’t help it; I’m beaming at him—and yes, there’s a glimmer in his eye.

  “I won’t tell you what my family put me through with their innuendos.”

  “I can guess. Lisa called me at dawn to babble about last night.”

  “Dawn, really?”

  “Well, it seemed like it.”

  The waiter brings us scrambled eggs and bagels. We dig in. I’m starved. I could hardly eat a bite last night.

  “What’s your choice, dear Glad? Business or pleasure first?”

  I pause. This is a trick question. “Care to describe either?”

  “No.” He slathers cream cheese on his onion bagel. He’s having a good time.

  “Too much cholesterol,” I say to stall.

  “Yes, I know,” as he smears even more on. “All right, a clue. Both will be very intense. Bad intense and good intense.”

  I sigh. And laugh ironically to myself. Since I have a good idea of what he’s up to, I don’t know which terrifies me more.

  I answer him: “Perhaps the business first. Then the pleasure can be like... dessert?”

  He reaches over and takes my hand. “You need to be brave about both.”

  I manage a smile. “Brave? That’s what I’m afraid of.”

  “Business first, then. We’ll get through it, together.”

  I brace myself and he begins.

  “I was just about to go back to Florida when I heard you were coming. I was ready to give up my quest to find Patty Dennison. I got close, but I failed. It’s truly remarkable in this technological age that she is off the radar. There is no information to be had about her anywhere. When I met her cousin, Barbara, I was sure I would get her to tell me where she is. But she kept insisting Patty was dead. I almost believed her at that point. Then she ran away from me. At first I thought it was because I scared her and she didn’t want to deal with the past. But maybe she ran because she was lying and she was afraid I could break her down. I’m not so sure either way. Regardless, I can’t stand the idea that I failed you.”

  Now I’m the one reaching for his hands to comfort him. “Why don’t we try again?”

  “We?”

  “Yes, we.”

  “Can you handle it?”

  “I don’t know but I guess I’ve always needed to learn the truth.”

  We stare into one another’s eyes. I feel his strength. He is trying to judge mine.

  The waiter brings us more coffee.

  “I’ve called Barbara so many times, but she never answers the phone; I get the damn machine. We could go up to Fair Lawn, but she can get a restraining order and I don’t put it past her.”

  “Funny you should say that, because the girls and I just finished a case where a woman refused to take our calls. We finally got her to answer.”

  He smiles. “Leave it to you and the girls. What did you do, nag her until she went nuts?”

  “Pretty close. We just kept calling and told her we would not stop.”

  With that, Jack whips out his cell phone and hits a number. Jack listens. He shrugs. “Here comes the answering machine.”

  His tone gets stronger as he leaves her a message. “Barbara. This is Jack Langford. I am still waiting for your call. I will continue calling until you answer. I will call you at the factory as well and make things unpleasant for you there. I intend to come back to your town. You cannot avoid me forever.” He leaves his number and hangs up.

  “Well done,” I say.

  “Like spitting in the wind,” he says, apparently not convinced this will work. He dials again. This time the Nabisco plant. “The operator is paging her,” Jack tells me. “No answer. I’m sure she told them I’m some stalker.”

  “I doubt it,” I say. “She wouldn’t want police involved.”

  “Maybe she’s still away. She took off with her kids like a shot after I confronted her.”

  The waiter brings us the check. Jack takes out his wallet.

  “I’m guessing she’s back. She needs her job. Probably she came back after she was sure you were gone.”

  “Now we wait.”

  “I have an idea. Let me call.”

  Jack looks alarmed. “I thought of that, but I didn’t want to ask you.”

  “Jack, dear, from now on we’re in this together.”

  “What will you s
ay?”

  “I’ll say Gladdy Gold is calling and I insist on meeting with her cousin, Patty Dennison, immediately.”

  He hands me the phone.

  SCENE OF THE CRIME

  Jack and I stand in the middle of the street outside the coffee shop. The air feels good. The weather is starting to cool down. Indian summer is about to change into fall. People seem to be walking at a quicker, lighter pace. We glance at one another. I know what he is thinking. I know where he wants us to go. I want what he wants. His hotel is just up at the corner. But not yet. Something is making me hesitate.

  “Up for a walk?” he asks, sensing my uncertainty. “We could window-shop along Fifth Avenue? Let’s see if Rizzoli’s bookstore is still there.”

  It hits me. “Jack, you’ll think this is mad but I want to take you to my old neighborhood. Where it happened. Don’t ask me why, but I need you to see it.” I stare into his blue eyes. Like looking into pools of hot liquid. “The scene of the crime.”

  He checks my face to see if I really mean this. “Are you sure?”

  “No. But something makes me want to do this. Maybe it’s because I haven’t been back there since I moved away two months after it happened. Maybe it’s because we’re doing what you came to do and this is part of it. Most of all, I can deal with it because I’ll be with you.”

  He hugs me and then hails a cab.

  “Our first taxi ride together in our first time in New York together,” Jack says loudly as we make our way to the Upper West Side. Thank goodness we have a driver who’s only playing hard rock on an ear-splitting wavelength. It could be worse. What really gets me is each time I’ve been in a New York City cab, the driver is talking on a cell phone at the same time. This one is, too. Madness.

  I smile at Jack. How sweet. “Are you collecting anniversaries?” I shout.

  We move very close together so we can hear one another, which is nice. “Sure. Why not?” Bless him, he sees me tensing up the nearer I get to my old neighborhood and he’s trying to ease it.

  I try to concentrate on the nice things I remember of those earlier years. Being so near the Hudson River where I used to wheel baby Emily.

  I’d sit on a bench and I’d enjoy the water views or read books as she slept in her carriage. And later, older, playing in Morningside Park. We pass the old markets where I shopped. Most of them have changed. And I remember how near Columbia University is to where we were. How much my Jack used to enjoy walking to work.