Getting Old Is Criminal Rita Lakin

also by rita lakin

Getting Old Is Murder

Getting Old Is the Best R e v eng e

and

Getting Old Is T o Die F o r

Coming from Dell in spring 2008

Getting Old Is

Criminal

Rita Lakin

A D E L L B O O K

GETTING OLD IS CRIMINAL A Dell Book / May 2007

Published by Bantam Dell
A Division of Random House, Inc.
New York, New York

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead,

events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Book design by Karin Batten

Dell is a registered trademark of Random House, Inc., and the colophon is a trademark of Random House, Inc.

eISBN: 978-0-440-33684-6 www.bantamdell.com

v1.0

This book is for Alison with Love from her Grandma

You don't stop laughing when you grow old. You grow old when you stop laughing. —Anonymous

Happy 101st Birthday!
Harold W. (Rudy) Truesdale
Eureka, California

Born 1906, twelve days before the San Francisco earthquake hit.

One of the first commerical pilots ever. Now the oldest living one. Hired by TWA. First airline captain to ever marry a stewardess.

Surveyed the road and pool at Hearst Castle for friend Howard Hughes.

Advice for longevity: a glass of red wine
every night.
—Submitted by Burrille Catamach

"Life is not measured by the number of
breaths we take, but by the moments that
take our breath away."
—George Carlin, 70, comic

Introduction to Our Characters

gladdy & her gladiators

Gladys (Gladdy) Gold, 75 Our heroine and her funny, adorable, and sometimes impossible partners:

Evelyn (Evvie) Markowitz, 73 Gladdy's sister. Logical, a regular Sherlock Holmes

Ida Franz, 71 Stubborn, mean, great for in-your-face confrontation

Bella Fox, 83 The "shadow." She's so forgettable, she's perfect for surveillance, but smarter than you think

Sophie Meyerbeer, 80 Master of disguises, she lives for color-coordination

yentas, kibitzers, sufferers: the inhabitants of phase two

Hy Binder, 88 A man of a thousand jokes, all of them tasteless

Lola Binder, 78 Hy's wife, who hasn't a thought in her head that he hasn't put there

Denny Ryan, 42 The handyman. Sweet, kind, mentally slow

Enya Slovak, 84 Survivor of "the camps" but never really survived

Tessie Hoffman, 56 Chubby, with a big fat crush on Sol

Millie Weiss, 85 Suffering with Alzheimer's

Irving Weiss, 86 Suffering because Millie is suffering

Mary Mueller, 60 Neighbor and nurse, whose husband left her oddballs and fruitcakes

The Canadians, 30–40-ish Young, tan, and clueless

Sol Spankowitz, 79 A lech after the ladies

Dora Dooley, 81 Jack's neighbor, loves soap operas

the cop and the cop's pop

Morgan (Morrie) Langford, 35 Tall, lanky, sweet, and smart

Jack Langford, 75 Handsome and romantic

the library mavens

Conchetta Aguilar, 38 Her Cuban coffee could grow hair on your chest

Barney Schwartz, 27 Loves a good puzzle

new tenants

Barbi Stevens, 20-ish, and

Casey Wright, 20-ish Cousins who moved from California

and:

Yolanda Diaz, 22 Her English is bad, but her heart is good

Gladdy's Glossary

Yiddish (meaning Jewish) came into being between the ninth and twelfth centuries in Germany as an adaptation of German dialect to the special uses of Jewish religious life.

In the early twentieth century, Yiddish was spoken by eleven million Jews in Eastern Europe and the United States. Its use declined radically. However, lately there has been a renewed interest in embracing Yiddish once again as a connection to Jewish culture.

alter kockers - lecherous old men

bubbala (bubeleh) - endearing term

bubkes - trifling, worth nothing

chupeh - bridal canopy

dumkupf - dunce

fahputzed - overly done

feh! - phooey!

gornisht - nothing

haimish - friendly

kibitz - giving unwanted advice

lantsman - countryman, someone from your home area

maven - someone who knows everything

matzo - unleavened bread for Passover

mensch - a dignified person

mishmash - a mess

mamzer - trickster, untrustworthy person

nosh - small meal

pupik - belly button

putz - penis (insult)

rugallah - pastry

schlep - dragging a load

schmear - to spread like butter

tsimmes - fuss

tush - a baby's bottom

yenta - busybody

Getting Old Is

Criminal

SIGH NO MORE, LADY

The Jacuzzi bubbles tickled. Even the champagne tickled as the silvery liquid glided down her eager throat. She looked up at the mirrored ceiling. Then at each mirrored wall. Happily, the bubbles were up to her chin so she didn't have to look at her ninety-five-year-old turkey-wattled neck. Her eyesight was failing, so in the haze of her cataracts, her white hair once again seemed as blond as it had been in her salad days. In her tipsy state, she remembered when she'd been compared to Carole Lombard—or so the boys had said in those courting days when they were trying to get into her bloomers.

What was management thinking? Esther Ferguson wondered. Everyone here was close to pushing up the daisies. Why would they have installed so many mirrors? The first three years she lived here, she had draped all but the mirror over the sink. It was Romeo who'd made her take the fabric down, the better to admire her.

Esther loved Grecian Villas. Close to the heart of Fort Lauderdale, conveniently located near the beach and the chic Las Olas Street shopping area—what more could anyone want? Everything in the deluxe retirement community was first-rate. A fabulous dining room that outdid Las Vegas. Food from a class-act chef. Lush lawns. Indoor and outdoor pools. Views of the ocean. First-run movies any night of the week. Bridge players with their brains still intact. Granted, she paid through the pupik, but she could afford it. Her dead husband, Harry, had left her very, very, very rich. And she had no family except for her rigid son, Alvin, and his annoying wife. They were waiting for her to croak. They'd get the money, all right; they could have whatever was left. But she intended to spend as much as she wanted on herself as long as she lasted.

She giggled. This place alone took five thousand a month. Oops, she thought, and hiccupped, as she spilled a bit of her champagne into the Jacuzzi.

She looked toward the half-open mirrored door. "Romeo, where art thou, snookums?"

A velvety voice replied from the living room bar, where she could hear him tinkling with the glasses, "Coming, my Juliet."

Her lover put on a CD. Tchaikovsky's Romeo and Juliet Overture wafted toward her. How perfect. Who would have thunk it? Mad, passionate love at ninety-five with a gorgeous guy twenty years her junior. Well, not so mad and not all that passionate, either. The body parts didn't move much, no matter how much oiling, but, oh, the romance.

He knocked. "May I enter, m'lady?"

"Need you ask, m'lord?"

"Of course. A gentleman always knocks before he enters his loved one's private chambers."

"Knock away, oh dear one, and bring your gorgeous self right in."

Romeo entered, the diamond stickpin gleaming against his silken white cravat, his red damask robe in dramatic counterpoint. His unshod feet glided toward Esther as all his mirror images reflected and re-reflected. Removing Esther's empty champagne flute, he handed her another and spoke softly to her. " 'Eyes, look your last! Arms, take your last embrace.' " He leaned over and kissed her forehead.

For a moment she was confused. What did he say? But then she smiled and raised her glass heavenward. "Thank you, God. Take me anytime you want and I will die happy."

Esther was surprised when Romeo pushed her head gently, but firmly, down into the bubbles. He held her under the water as he whispered into her disappearing ear, " 'Good night, good night! Parting is such sweet sorrow.' "