24

PLANS

“So, honey, what’s your plan?” I ask Jack later that evening. I know he’s bursting to get off his chest what I’m longing to hear—that he really and truly is through with Michelle. It must be true, since he’s back with me. “Do you want to take me out for dinner? Or I have lamb chops waiting to be broiled. And potatoes waiting to be baked. And cheesecake and coffee for a to-die-for dessert.”

Jack seems unsure. “I was going to suggest a long walk first. But not with your hurting ankle. I should have brought you flowers, but I was in a hurry to get home.”

“I don’t need flowers. Your being here is good enough.”

“We could go out for a quiet dinner somewhere. Someplace romantic and expensive.”

I can’t resist giving him a little dig. “That’s something guilty men do. Bribe their women with flowers and expensive restaurants. You don’t need to do that.”

He reddens. Caught. “Maybe I thought I did. I want to tell you everything, but we need privacy.”

“Well, this place isn’t bugged as far as I know. We have all the seclusion we want right here. How about we have cocktails in the Florida room and look out at the ducks on the waterway?”

Jack looks pleased. “Sounds perfect. Bloody Marys?”

I’m already heading for the ice.

It’s lovely this time of evening. The air coming in the louvers is cool and refreshing. The drinks are strong enough to make us mellow. Just the right amount of vodka and Tabasco. The ducks quack away at one another. Maybe there’s some male duck out there confessing to his female counterpart a tale similar to Jack’s. Who knows?

Jack is reciting his story in a pretty straightforward manner. No doubt he’s toning down some of the lurid parts. And in the telling, the excitement is dampened. But my imagination is filling in what he leaves out. Here was this passionate younger woman throwing herself at him and I’m getting the rational explanation—dryly, professorially, safely explained.

“So,” he says, “it pretty much boils down to an impressionable young woman having a crush on a father figure. And me feeling fatherly to her.”

I sigh. I know he is leaving out seductive clothes and sexual advances and cries and whispers. I would have enjoyed the juicier parts now that he’s safely back.

He finishes up with, “Michelle really is a nice person. She felt bad about you seeing her at her worst.”

Frankly, I wouldn’t have liked seeing her at her best.

“Thank you, Gladdy dear, for being so patient with me. Had I been you, I would have tossed me out a long time ago.”

I won’t touch that line with the proverbial ten-foot pole. “Hmm,” I say, not saying anything.

Jack fills me in about his and Morrie’s discussion with the Parisian police and the realization that the little old man is a former world-class contract killer. I feel good that my instincts led them to this important discovery.

Jack completes his summation. “So, we’ll either capture The Snake here or the French police or Interpol will grab him when he tries to get through customs back in Europe. Michelle and Colette should be leaving by next weekend.”

That’s a lot of news to be getting secondhand. Truthfully I’m not happy about having been left out of this really big case and missing all the excitement. Contributing secondhand is not my idea of being on a case. But never mind, all’s well that ends well. However, Jack and I will have to discuss our work relationship from now on. And I shudder to think about how the girls will take his getting involved in our cases.

I cuddle close to my guy on my small love seat—a most applicable name. “By the way, coincidentally, the news here is that the very same next weekend there will be a very big double wedding on the back lawn. Friends and neighbors are cooking up a storm. Every possible chair is being lent out. Bridesmaids and ring bearers are already chosen. Somebody’s grandson’s garage band will be playing free for the experience. A chuppah is midway toward construction. All plans are in motion.”

Jack is pleasantly surprised. “Who’s getting married? Anyone we know?”

Indeed you do, big guy. “Gladys Gold and Jack Langford. Evelyn Markowitz and Joseph Markowitz.” I can give out information in a dry, professorial way, too. “Just thought you’d like to know in case you want to rent a tux. And drive downtown for a license.”

Jack beams. His grin is from ear to ear. “You made this decision without my consent?”

I snuggle closer. “Well, you were otherwise engaged, so to speak.”

“You were that sure of me?”

No way am I going to let him know about the awful anxiety-ridden sleepless nights. And I probably should skip the visit of a dead friend to give me advice.

For a moment we are distracted by the duck couple below us. Their meeting seems not to be going well. There is a flutter of wings and angry duck squawks, and some neck nipping, but soon they settle down again. That’s a good sign.

I return to my information patter. “Preparations are happening even as we speak. Our relatives were informed and invited by phone … ”

Jack stares at me in surprise. “Wow! That’s pretty fast.”

I am tempted to say that I’ve had nothing else to do, since he kept me away from working this case. But I hold my tongue. “Of course everyone said yes, but typically complained of not having enough time to buy new clothes. All three families are traveling at the same time and I told them we’d meet them at the airport.”

“It all sounds wonderful. What did I do to deserve you?”

I could boast, but I won’t. A quick snuggle and I keep reciting. “I’ve already put all our thirteen New Yorkers up at a nearby hotel. The four granddaughters are looking forward to sharing their own room. As well as the three grandsons.”

“Isn’t it wonderful that yours and Evvie and Joe’s family and mine have become close friends?”

“We’ve been blessed.” For a moment I think of Ida, who never hears from anyone in her family. It must be so hard for her.

It’s as if he read my mind. “And the Bobbsey triplets? Their response?”

“Sophie, Bella, and Ida are so mad at each other, it’s more on their minds than we are. But I know they’re pleased.” I sigh. “The only spoiler is having to walk down the aisle with a cane.”

Jack rises and lifts me up in his arms. “You’re going to go down that aisle even if I have to carry you.”

The doorbell rings. It’s eight a.m. and I don’t want to get out of bed. I want to stay spooned against my man forever. Besides, I know who it will be—the girls wanting me to get out and exercise as usual. I ignore them. They’ll stop eventually.

Wrong. They don’t.

From his head muffled under his pillow, Jack mumbles, “Chase them away.”

I guess I have to get up.

No big surprise, it’s Evvie and Ida. I open the door and move to the kitchen with them tagging along as I start to put up our morning coffee. “Hang on. I’ll grab some coffee, get dressed, and grab my cane.”

Ida says, “Don’t bother. We’re not walking.”

Evvie adds, “Bella and Sophie refuse to join us. Or rather, won’t exercise with Ida.”

Ida isn’t perturbed. “Just as well. I want to show you something.”

Evvie hands me my can of coffee and then opens the fridge for the mocha mix and gets the Splenda packets out of a kitchen drawer. She knows the drill. I start the percolator perking.

From her pocket, Ida pulls out a sheet of paper. “Here’s my plan for outing that phony club they belong to. I’m going with them today whether they like it or not.”

Evvie and I exchange exasperated glances. She won’t give up.

“Here goes. I wrote this fake letter, which will be left open in my purse, now that I know that closet will be searched.” She reads. “Dear Sonny boy. This is just a note to remind you of the anniversary of Daddy’s death. Please go to the cemetery and bring roses. You remember how he always loved to bring me roses. Throw a kiss to my Murray for me.”

She looks up brightly. “That should do it, don’t you think?”

I have to ask. “Why can’t you let it go? Why is it so important to you?”

Ida pulls at her hair in its bun, a gesture she makes when she’s anxious. “I told you. I wish to make Sophie and Bella answer for their foolish behavior.”

My coffee has perked long enough. Evvie pours us each a cup. She hands Ida hers and says, “Be careful, Ida. Sometimes what you wish for backfires and bites you in the rear.”

Jack calls from the bedroom. “Is that fresh coffee I smell?”

I call back to him. “Yes, oh lord and master. Your cup is on the way.”

Evvie smiles and Ida grimaces. Evvie gulps hers down and heads for the door.

“Come on, Ida,” Evvie says. “I need you to help with the decorations.”

Ida follows after Evvie. “I don’t do decorations. I’m not good with all those rolls of crinkly tissue paper.”

“Then you can blow up balloons. I’ll bet that’s your real talent.” Evvie winks at me. “Bye, Glad. Enjoy the rest of your morning.”

I pour Jack’s cup and head back to my darling.