Getting Old Is a Disaster Read Online Free PDF Page B

he can. But Morrie blunders on. "So where's your retainer?"
      Bella smiles. "Silly. We work on a handshake deal." She stops to think about what she's said. "That is, we'll shake his hand when we find him."
      Morrie is behaving oddly—for him. He's usually not so nervous around us. He's hiding something. I wonder what's going on. I can tell by Jack's expression he has the same impression.
      "Look," Morrie blurts as he stands up, "somebody is pulling your leg. Somebody you know sent you the clipping as a gag."
      That stops us for a moment, then Evvie glances at me, both of us remembering. "Take a look in the envelope," she says. "You missed something."
      Puzzled, Morrie opens the envelope and sees the tiny green feather. By the way his face goes from tan to red to gray, we've hit gold.
      "That wasn't in the newspaper, was it?" Evvie says knowingly. "That's the information the police kept back."
      "Bingo," I say. "Your bandit has thrown down his gauntlet, so to speak. In fact," I add, "do us a big favor, since we're so old and helpless, mail me a list of the banks that our client robbed, and their addresses."
      Morrie is sputtering by now. "Wait just one minute . . ."
      He's right, of course. The police don't want civilians pursuing cases on their own. They want cooperation and information, not meddling. Or interfering in a way that might compromise their investigation or their evidence. It's not just the bandit who's thrown down the gauntlet; so has Morrie, wanting us to keep out of it.
      We are at an impasse.
      Jack says, "Son, why don't you and I grab a cup of coffee and let the girls do what they are so good at—finding out anything and everything they set their minds to."
      With a last glance at me, he winks and the two men take off. That is, as soon as Jack can get Sophie and Bella to let go of his arms.
      I call after him, "Jack, you have an announcement to make. Remember?"
      He grins. "Enough excitement for one morning. Later."
      I laugh. The girls want to know what's so funny. I give them the same answer: "Later."

5

    Early Birds

    T he girls are not happy. They're dressed for go
        ing out but so far they are getting nowhere. We stand in front of my building waiting for Jack to pick us up. It rained all day and there are puddles everywhere, so we are grouped in a tight circle under the eaves, where the ground is dry. Sophie's pantsuit is a study in peach. From top to toes, she is every shade imaginable. Even to her latest hair dye, sort of peachy brown. Bella is also monochromatic—all in pale gray, which matches her hair as well. The two of them color coordinate whenever we go out. Evvie, on the other hand, is in one of her many flamboyant caftans—a riot of color, no pastels for her. Her hair is still red, but the gray is coming back slowly. Ida—well, Ida dresses as if she's standing under a thundercloud. Very dark. Plain. No frills, no jewelry for our Ida. I'm in my usual beiges, tans, and whites, with a coral blouse and silk scarf.
      We are already late. Bella couldn't find her glasses. Sophie couldn't decide between her beige flats or her peach sandals. It's already four-thirty, and I told Jack to be here by four. It's our first outing as a couple with the girls and I'm nervous enough about the outcome. The girls are already grumpy, not a good sign.
      Much tapping of feet and glancing at watches. Finally Jack's vintage Cadillac casually pulls over to pick us up, just before five.
      "Hi, ladies," he says, getting out and opening all the car doors. The girls climb in, not looking at him. Ida mumbles, "It's about time."
      Jack looks at me and I shrug and say, "Go ahead, ask it. I know you're dying to."
      "Why does anyone want to eat at four-thirty?"
      "You'll see." I realize that Sophie and Bella have already scrunched their way into the front seat, so I don't get to sit next to my "date." I struggle to fit myself in back with Evvie and Ida.