by Mike Befeler
“Is your family ready to be invaded by an old coot?”
“They’re all very excited that you’re coming.”
“All right. I’m ready to get this show on the road. And by the way, I have our honeymoon all set.”
“Oh?”
“An Alaskan cruise in August.”
“Then we’ll definitely have to have our ceremony in July. I’ve never been to Alaska.”
“I’ve never been on a cruise, so it will be a new experience for both of us.”
“Didn’t you do a tour of duty in the Navy?”
“Sure. I’ve been on destroyers and cruisers but never a love boat.”
* * * * *
After I hung up, I returned to the living room. Before I could even relax again, the doorbell rang.
“I’ll get it,” Jennifer shouted as she and Max raced to the door. She flung it open.
A stocky woman dressed in a business suit entered, accompanied by a girl Jennifer’s age.
“I’m here to see your grandfather,” the woman said.
“Grandpa, Mrs. Milo and Katherine are here!”
Uh-oh, the savage mother lawyer.
Katherine and Jennifer hugged each other and started gabbing a mile a minute.
Mrs. Milo strode right up to me and looked me straight in the eyes. “Mr. Jacobson, I owe you an apology.”
I blinked. “I’m not used to lawyers apologizing.”
“I made a bad mistake. I accused you of being at fault when my ex-husband abducted my daughter. I found out that you actually helped the police find her.”
“Just doing what I thought was right.”
“It’s more than right. I promised a reward of five thousand dollars to anyone who helped locate my daughter.” She whipped a checkbook out of her purse. “I’m going to write you a check for that right now.”
I help my hand up. “Wait a minute. I don’t want your money.”
“A promise is a promise.” She extracted a pen.
I placed my hand on hers. “I have a better idea.” I turned my head. “Katherine and Jennifer, come over here. I need your opinion on something.”
The girls skipped over with their arms around each other.
“Grandpa, Katherine told me how while she was up in the mountains she caught six big trout.”
“Sounds pretty fishy to me,” I said.
The girls groaned.
“Now pay attention you two young ladies. Mrs. Milo has offered me a reward. I think it would be better if she made a contribution to your school. What do you both think would be a worthwhile expenditure for five thousand dollars?”
Jennifer and Katherine looked at each other and giggled.
“The computer lab is a mess,” Jennifer said.
“They don’t have enough disk storage,” Katherine added. “We keep asking to have more added, but the teachers say there’s no money. You could buy some new disk drives.”
“I know about disc brakes, but I have no clue regarding disk drives,” I said. “But if that’s what the school needs, Mrs. Milo, please make a contribution on my behalf.”
“Are you sure you don’t want the reward money yourself, Mr. Jacobson?”
“Absolutely. If you insist on writing a check, make it out to the school so your daughter and my granddaughter can benefit instead.”
“Agreed.” She grabbed my hand and gave it as hearty a shake, as had Peter Kingston the third.
I stood there in amazement. I’d never be able to trust an attorney again. Just when I had pigeonholed all lawyers, these two had ruined my negative impression of the legal profession.
I flopped down in the easy chair to catch my breath while Mrs. Milo and Allison chatted and the girls swirled around the house like two crazed gerbils.
Eventually, Mrs. Milo collected Katherine, and they departed amid shouts back and forth between the two girls.
“I’m putting Max out in the backyard,” Allison said. “With all this excitement from visitors I don’t want him having an accident.” She led him away into doggy exile.
“Katherine seems in good spirits for a kidnap victim,” I said to Jennifer.
“Like Detective Lavino mentioned, she didn’t know she had been abducted. She enjoyed the mountains, but now she’s glad to be back with her mom.”
I sank back into my easy chair. I didn’t know if my old ticker could survive the idea of two lawyers giving money away.
My shock and awe was interrupted by the damn doorbell ringing again. “What is this, Grand Central Station?”
“You seem to be very popular today, Paul,” Allison said, having returned from putting out Max. She took her turn at opening the door.
I gazed up from my command seat to see two women accompanied by two tow-headed, sullen boys Jennifer’s age.
One of the women—a short, slender lady who obviously didn’t eat many hot fudge sundaes—stepped forward. “I’m Maggie Bishop, and this is Clarice Buchanan. Our sons have come to apologize to Mr. Jacobson.”
“Paul’s sitting there in the living room. Please come inside.”
The quartet traipsed in.
“Teddy and Randy, what do you have to say to Mr. Jacobson?” the other woman, who must have enjoyed sundaes with extra fudge, asked.
Neither boy raised his eyes. They both scuffed the carpet with their feet.
“Teddy?”
Teddy gulped and, still not looking up, said, “I’m sorry.”
“Randy?”
Randy mumbled, “I won’t do it again.”
“Boys, look at me,” I said.
Their heads jerked up.
“If you’re really going to apologize to someone, look them in the eyes and mean it.”
They both made eye contact and said simultaneously, “I’m sorry.”
“That’s better. See it wasn’t so bad. I’m not going to bite you or anything. What you did caused me some trouble, but it’s all been set straight. What do you think you should do to make up for the problems you caused me?”
The boys shrugged.
I regarded them thoughtfully. “I think a public service project should be in order. Do you know computers?”
For the first time since they entered the house, their eyes lit up.
“Yeah,” Randy said, scratching his arm. “I work with computers all the time.”
“Me too,” Teddy replied, stretching up on his tiptoes. “I even taught my mom how to build a webpage.”
“Your middle school will be receiving some new equipment in the fall. I think you should volunteer to help set it up and make sure the new students learn how to use the improved computers.”
“Cool,” Randy said. “We can do that.”
I pointed an index finger at each of them. “Now, go and lie no more.”
“Yes, sir,” they replied in unison.
“Boys. Go wait outside,” the roly-poly Mrs. Buchanan said.
Teddy and Randy shot out the door like they had rockets up their asses.
“Mr. Jacobson, we feel we owe you some type of compensation for what our sons did,” Mrs. Buchanan said.
“Are either of you lawyers?” I asked.
She looked at her companion quizzically and turned back to me. “Why no.”
“Then don’t worry. Your sons have apologized. They have a project to work on, and I feel they’ve learned their lesson.”
“Thank you for being so understanding, Mr. Jacobson.”
“I remember being a boy in the distant past. I did some pretty dumb things at their age.”
As the mob dispersed, I decided I needed to take in a breath of fresh air when the blasted doorbell rang again. I thought fleetingly of ducking out the back, but instead reached out to open the front door.
A man and woman in their seventies stood there.
“Hi, Paul,” the woman said. “Nate and I hoped to catch you at home.”
The name clicked. These had to be my friends Nate Fisher and Helen Gleason. “Come on in. Everyone else in the wor
ld has been here today.”
I noticed they each held a box.
“We have some presents for you,” Helen said. She opened her box to reveal a luscious chocolate cake. “I baked this as a thank you for bringing Nate and me together.”
“I’ll be damned. It looks delicious.”
“And I have a present for Max,” Nate said. He opened his box to reveal a large steak bone. “Thanks for tracking down the tree-cutting culprit, and I apologize again for ever suspecting you.”
“There have been a lot of apologies today. I’m glad that you and Helen are so happy together.”
“That’s something else I want to discuss with you. Helen and I are having our wedding ceremony next week. Paul, would you stand up for me?”
I clapped Nate on the back. “Damn straight. I’d be happy to witness the event.”
* * * * *
So there I was, decked out in a sports coat and tie, standing next to Nate Fisher while a minister read the vows. Helen looked ravishing in her blue gown, with her daughter next to her in a pale blue floor-length dress.
I watched all the events carefully. I supposed this would be good practice for me on what I would be going through in California with Marion in the near future. Not that I would remember one iota about it. I had to admit that I never had a chance to be bored by anything being repetitive.
After Nate kissed the bride, music blared and we all adjourned to the church courtyard for the reception. Jennifer and Helen’s granddaughter, Lauren, came running up to me.
“Grandpa, Lauren and I plan to play tennis together next week. I’ve invited her over to the club.”
“You can teach her that wicked forehand of yours,” I said.
They charged off again, and I watched them stuffing food in their mouths, giggling together and racing from one corner to the other. Ah, the wonders of youth.
And here I was, launching into a new adventure of my own. What would be in store for me in Venice Beach with Marion? How would I handle it as a married man again? What would it be like waking up with a new wife beside me who I wouldn’t recognize unless we had had a little hanky-panky the night before?
Ah, the wonders of old age.
Chapter 23
The next day I prepared for my magic carpet ride to the airport. Max came up and nestled his snout against my trousers. I scratched him under the chin, and he looked up at me with his sad little eyes.
“You take good care of my kids, Max,” I said. “And leave Nate’s lawn alone.”
* * * * *
Later, I stood with Denny, Allison and Jennifer at the airline check-in counter at Denver International Airport. I handed over my ticket, identification and two suitcases, one of which displayed my bumper sticker that read, “Old age is not for sissies.” The attendant clicked away on the computer. After a moment she looked up at me.
“There’s an indicator record that a bag with your name has been saved in the lost and found.”
“Grandpa, it could be the carry-on bag with your Hawaiian journal that you were supposed to have when you arrived here.”
“Well, let’s go check it out,” I said.
After being given an identification number and following the attendant’s directions, we found a door that led to a huge room, crammed full of luggage.
“I’m here to retrieve my bag,” I said to the man standing behind a counter as I showed him the identification number.
“One minute please.”
I looked around the room to see a bin full of cell phones and shelves lined with laptop computers, purses, wallets, pens, keys and eyeglasses. I wasn’t the only one around with a bad memory.
The one-minute stretched into ten, making me thankful we had allowed lots of time before my flight took off. Finally, the guy returned and dropped a blue sports bag on the counter. “Here you go.”
I unzipped it and pulled out an ear-marked pile of handwritten pages.
“It’s your Hawaiian journal, Grandpa.”
“I’ll be damned. I’ll have to read it on the plane.”
I consolidated the contents into my other carry-on and gave the blue sports bag to Jennifer.
Outside the security line, Jennifer gave me a hug.
“Thank you for helping clear me of all the legal poop I stepped in,” I said.
“Oh, Grandpa. I enjoyed your visit so much. I’m going to miss you.”
“Well, I’ll be seeing you soon when you come out for my wedding.”
“That will be so cool. I can’t wait. It’ll be even more exciting than the wedding yesterday.”
“You’re becoming quite the party-goer. Two weddings within a month.”
“And, Grandpa, I’ve been rethinking my decision to become a lawyer.”
“Oh?”
“Yes. After solving all those crimes, I think I want to be an investigator like Detective Lavino.”
“You’re good at it. But you don’t have to make up your mind now. Wait until you’re in college, and then you can decide what career to pursue.”
She nodded. “I know. I like to have a plan.”
“And keep playing tennis, Jennifer. It’s a good way to stay in shape as you age.”
“I’ll enter some more tournaments too, Grandpa, although I didn’t win the club tournament for my age group last week.”
“Oh, I guess I forgot. I apparently didn’t write it up in my journal.”
“I was pretty disappointed at first. I lost in the finals. In the tiebreaker I missed a forehand setup and then an easy backhand. Can you believe it?” She shook her head and then a smile returned to her face. “But with more practice, I’ll do better.”
I put my arm around her. “Don’t worry about missing a few points. You made the shots on Previn when it really counted. With your powerful strokes, you could develop into quite an athlete.”
Her eyes lit up. “You’re right. If I keep improving, I might even receive a sports scholarship.”
Allison gave me a hug. “I’ve sworn off Sudoku puzzles again,” she said.
“With me out of your hair, you won’t have to stay around the house as much.”
“Oh, Paul. I enjoyed having you here. I’m going to miss all the excitement.”
“Don’t worry. Jennifer will keep you hopping. She’s entering the wonderful world of becoming a teenager.”
Allison rolled her eyes. “Yes, we’re in for a whole new stage.”
Denny grabbed my hand.
I pulled him close and gave him a hug.
I noticed the expression of surprise on his face. Then he relaxed and squeezed me as well. “Dad, thanks for seeing me through my memory concerns.”
“Any time, son. I think you should take up the Sudoku puzzles. It will keep your brain cells in shape.”
I waved to everyone as I entered the security line, ready to be frisked. I patted my carry-on bag containing my personal items. I hoped the metal frames on my butterfly collection, photograph of the jail and picture of Marion wouldn’t set off any alarms.
* * * * *
On the plane I buckled my belt, grumbling that I had a middle seat. The window seat was already occupied by a skinny man who appeared to be sleeping. I only had to wait to see how big a problem I was up against in the aisle seat.
My question was soon answered when a jovial, moderate-sized man in a suit sat down. He extracted a book of Sudoku puzzles from his briefcase.
“You ever done these?” he asked me.
“I tried one once.”
“Quite addicting, but they pass the time on a flight. You live in Los Angeles or heading there for a visit?”
“I’m moving there.”
He gave me a large grin and handed me a business card. “You look like a discerning gentleman. I represent a new concept in independent retirement living. We’re now taking reservations for our facility being constructed in the mountains above Los Angeles, near Big Bear.”
The End
About the Author
Mike Befeler turne
d his attention to fiction writing after a career in high technology marketing. He has five books in the Paul Jacobson Geezer-lit Mystery Series, Retirement Homes Are Murder, Living with Your Kids Is Murder (a finalist for The Lefty Award for best humorous mystery of 2009), Senior Moments are Murder, Cruising in Your Eighties Is Murder (a finalist for The Lefty Award for best humorous mystery of 2012), and Care Homes Are Murder, and Nursing Homes Are Murder. He has a paranormal mystery, The V V Agency, and a paranormal geezer-lit mystery, The Back Wing. He holds a Master’s degree from UCLA and a Bachelor’s degree from Stanford. Mike is active in organizations promoting a positive image of aging and is past president of the Rocky Mountain Chapter of Mystery Writers of America. He lives in Boulder, Colorado, with his wife, Wendy.
If you are interested in having the author speak to your book club, contact Mike Befeler at [email protected]. His website is http://www.mikebefeler.com.
Other Books by Mike Befeler
Paul Jacobson Geezer-lit Mystery Series
CARE HOMES ARE MURDER
NURSING HOMES ARE MURDER
Paranormal Mysteries
THE V V AGENCY
Paranormal Geezer-lit Mysteries
THE BACK WING
To be on Mike Befeler’s email list for new releases contact Mike at [email protected] or go to his website http://www.mikebefeler.com
Senior Moments Are Murder – Book 3
Paul Jacobson Geezer-lit Mysteries
by
Mike Befeler
Copyright © 2011 by Mike Befeler
All rights reserved.
This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination, or, if real, used fictitiously.
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by an electronic or mechanical means, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the express written permission of the publisher, except where permitted by law.
First Edition