Vintage Whispers (A Cozy Retirement Mystery Book 1)

by riley blake

At that point, Mark stepped into the role of dutiful son, answering all the registration questions while asking a few of his own. On a positive note, his warm and loving theatrics gave Mary Louise a chance to glance over the signed paperwork. She left the office well informed.

  Their stay at the old people’s palace would be short-lived if they didn’t like it there. And thanks to her son’s betrayal, she might set a time to meet with her attorney and change a few things on her dated will.

  “It was a privilege being your mother.” Pearl began the waving shenanigans again, this time holding her wrist as she waggled her fingers one way or another, a practice they’d recently picked up in a yoga class for seniors. “Visit often! Won’t you?”

  Avoiding the long send-off, Mary Louise found a new landing spot on the far end of the farmer’s porch. Wide and inviting, the covered outdoor area housed at least twenty-five rocking chairs. Plastic plants, end tables, and doodads added a hint of country charm.

  She wouldn’t embrace her new residence, but the view was nice. The scenery and amenities undoubtedly added to the community’s overall curb appeal. She wouldn’t mind living at Cozy Retirement but her arrival was ten years too soon. Besides, she was seventy-two and hanging on for a venturesome life.

  “You’re thinking about staying?” Pearl asked, hopeful.

  “You wish,” Opal said. “Staying here is the last thing on her mind.”

  “Oh I don’t know. In another decade or so, I could get used to this. We might like it.”

  “They have frequent outings and planned activities,” Pearl said. “They visit places like Abrams Falls and Natural Tunnel. They go to Barter Theatre and swanky restaurants.”

  “And your point is?”

  “My point? Well Opal…my point is…” She stuttered and stammered, trying to find one. “My daughter and son-in-law may have locked us up and thrown away the key but we know a few locksmiths!”

  “Funny you should mention that,” Opal said, staring into the distance. “Because your daughter will now have unlimited access which means she can choose where she wants to live. I’m betting she won’t be too interested in my tiny homes.”

  Chapter Two

  An hour later, another new resident strolled across the porch. With a welcome brochure in hand, he read, “Walk about six hundred feet or so and you’ll find an uphill trail leading to Downtown Bristol.” He took a few steps, counting them off as he paced.

  “They have a small bus with four drop-offs each day, you know,” Pearl whispered, leaning sideways as she spoke.

  “Shh,” Opal said. “I didn’t get the leaflet. I want to listen.”

  As if he’d heard them, the older gentleman smiled and read aloud, “Follow our winding cobblestone paths to a spring fed pond. Located about a half-mile from the main house, the water is surrounded by concrete benches. There are several paddleboats and restroom facilities nearby.”

  “Which is important, particularly if you’re wearing adjustable underwear,” Pearl said, nodding her head.

  The man sent her a seething glare and Mary Louise halfway expected Pearl to remain tightlipped and wait for Opal to bail her out. Instead, she gave the fellow a kind look. “Don’t worry. Your secrets are our secrets. And besides, they sell them in the supply hall. Underwear, that is. Secrets are shared for free.” As if he needed verification. “But in case you haven’t noticed, you sign your name on an index card right below each product. That way the delivery guys can charge necessities to your account before delivering them to your room.”

  The man turned in a huff and marched away.

  “Did I say too much?”

  “No, girl,” Opal replied. “Keep getting your ditzy on. Never let them know how intelligent you really are.”

  Pearl frowned. “You just handed me the rope and watched me swing.”

  “Why should I interrupt? I wasn’t the one presented with a sign-up sheet for disposable panties.”

  “I was trying to talk my way out of a mess.”

  “When you find yourself in the middle of a lion’s den, stop feeding the beast,” Opal said, breathing in the fresh air.

  “I’m so depressed now,” Pearl said. “He struck me as a man of substance. I could use someone like that for entertainment purposes.”

  Mary Louise paid attention then. “What are you talking about?”

  “They host all sorts of tournaments and you aren’t exactly good card players,” Pearl explained. “That man had a good poker face.”

  “Then I’d hate to see his war game expression,” Opal said.

  Pearl moped. “You’re probably right. I don’t think he liked me very much.”

  “Let’s just say your first impression left a lot to be desired.”

  “But why? I was only providing information.”

  “You basically implied that he wet his pants.”

  “Don’t hold back now,” Pearl said. “And I did no such thing.”

  “Think about what you said and how you said it.” Mary Louise hated to hurt Pearl’s feelings but she needed to learn when to speak and when to hush. And the latter would be an answer to everyone’s prayers.

  “It sure is nice here,” Pearl said, shifting her focus. “Did you know that one side of the Bristol line is called ‘a good place’ to live?”

  “So this side of the line is a good place to die?”

  A few of the other residents stopped talking. Some left. Opal and Mary Louise rocked with a little more precision.

  Pearl glanced over her shoulder when the front door slammed. “Opal, that was uncalled for. Maybe you should take a page from my playbook.”

  “Why? It would be blank.”

  “Discussing medical problems in a place like this isn’t good form.”

  “Who started this conversation?” Opal waited before adding, “And not to be nitpicky or anything but I mentioned death. I don’t know anything about these people or their medical conditions.”

  Pearl’s dreamy-eyed look appeared, the one where she really didn’t care if anyone listened while she babbled. “I don’t see why we all have to be so uptight. We’ll be like a real family living here together in harmony. I was telling the truth about the signup sheet, by the way. They display samples of their available items. Residents then sign up to receive their orders by a certain date. It helps with the community’s ‘no secrets’ policy.

  “Oh and you can also schedule a time to meet with the funeral director and plan your entire wake, pick out your coffin, casket liners, and decide on the service that you’d like to have. It’s very convenient when you think about it.”

  “Liners as in plural?” Opal asked. “People die once, Pearl. They need one liner, one casket.”

  “Miss Layla says the reason for this practice is because there have been two incidences where they’ve accidentally buried people alive. After the first time, folks typically want a new liner and casket. The old one haunts them.”

  “Why that’s not true,” Mary Louise said. “Someone is pitching that garbage so they can sell funeral packages.”

  Opal groaned. “We gotta get out of here.”

  “Tell me about it,” Mary Louise muttered, thinking they needed to keep Pearl away from the spirit guide who seemingly possessed the 4-1-1 on life and death.

  About that time, Clarence called out to them. “How are they treating you, ladies?”

  “Very well, Clarence.” Mary Louise shot him a warm smile. “It’s nice to see you.”

  “Good to see you, too.” He shook his ax. “We’ll visit another day! I’m busy at the moment.”

  He returned to his methodical swings. They returned to their rocking.

  With temperatures in the high sixties, it was the perfect afternoon to sit for a bit. The hovering trees with their sweeping branches made the porch a popular place to enjoy the warm breeze. In the distance, large maples and black oaks surrounded the paved parking area while the Virginia pines stood tall and proud like gentle giants placed strategically to establish the
property’s boundaries.

  Without a doubt, the community had been built smack-dab in the middle of God’s country. Mary Louise thought of her son then and her mood temporarily soured. Even God’s country housed its share of ungrateful devils.

  Crossing one leg over the other, she settled her back against the wicker and enjoyed the to and fro gliding motion. A burst of familiar floral scents filled the air with a mix of wildflowers and lilies.

  Pearl took a few deep breaths, clearly bored. “If we decide to go, I’ll miss this.”

  “You can stay if you like,” Opal said.

  “Not a chance.” Pearl jabbed her finger at them. “Team of three. That’s you, you, and me.” She quoted their silly childhood mantra. “I still say we should consider a vote and stay.”

  There must’ve been hidden powers in a vote of one.

  “Cozy Retirement Community has a little bit of everything,” she continued. “A beauty shop on site, a snack bar, pharmacy, funeral planning—as I previously mentioned—and they even have a library, pool, and—”

  “It’s a regular full-service retirement community,” Opal said. “We get it.”

  “This may not be as easy as we’d hoped.” Mary Louise had tried to pay attention but it was hard to say what Catherine might have encouraged her mother to sign. She feared the worst. Pearl could’ve signed away too many legal rights. “I’m concerned about you, Pearl.”

  “Don’t be. I know what you’re thinking and you’re wrong. During registration, I would’ve asked you or Opal to look over my paperwork if the kids had requested my signature on something that I didn’t understand.”

  “That’s great news.”

  “Sure is,” Mary Louise agreed. “I was afraid they’d ask you to sign over your power of attorney and assets.”

  “Catherine asked all right, but I dodged the bullet.”

  “I’m sure they were hollow point,” Opal grumbled, her irritation obvious.

  Pearl gave Opal a free pass. “I may be blonde underneath this gray but there’s more than air in this brain. I’m more like a natural conservatory.” She tapped her temple. “Hard to say what’s stored up here.”

  “I don’t know which is more frightening. The fact that she believes such crap or hearing the word “conservatory” fall from her lips.”

  Pearl straightened the sleeves on her sweater. “Catherine asked me to sign quite a number of ridiculous papers. She wanted me to admit that I might have early signs of dementia and couldn’t be responsible for my own financial affairs. Can you believe that?”

  “Older folks today are living in a different world. And it’s only going to get worse,” Opal said. “The same kids who emancipated from their parents when they didn’t get their way are the very people who will later return to the family threshold. They’ll pretend to care about a mother or father for a small price of everything left in their parents’ bank accounts.”

  “It angers me that Mark and Catherine would use dementia to get their way,” Mary Louise said, thinking of her dear sweet mother in her final days. Right after her diagnosis, she’d written down notes and made memory cards. She’d penned letters to herself in a desperate attempt to avoid the hopeless days of forgetfulness. She had wanted to hold fast to the days that mattered most.

  “Catherine said Mark planned to give you the same paperwork,” Pearl said, bowing her head. “Oh Mary, I wasn’t going to tell you.”

  “Listen. I don’t blame you. It isn’t your fault. We were good parents, or tried to be, but we raised a couple of—well Opal said it best—brats.”

  “One of the reasons I like this place is because it’s so expensive.”

  “And that’s a good thing?” Opal asked.

  “Well yes. Means we get to spend our hard-earned money before the kids can lay claims to it. We have several residency options here along with food plans and activities. We can even set a shopping budget. I can think of worse places to live. Can’t you?”

  “We’re not old enough to live here,” Opal stated flatly. “Cozy Retirement Community should’ve been called Hacking Haven. This place is full of sick people who need regular checkups and daily assistance. We just got back from a twenty-one day road-trip. How many old maids go to Spring Break 2016 and have more fun than anyone?”

  “Well I don’t know about all that,” Mary Louise said, remembering the guys and gals who danced the night away on the busy beach. She’d envied their youth.

  Opal said, “We had the time of our lives. We spent our own money. We bought our own souvenirs. We didn’t have to worry about a curfew. And we didn’t check in with anyone.”

  “And I’m still paying for it,” Pearl assured them, rubbing her right shoulder. “Skydiving wasn’t on my bucket list.”

  “You enjoyed it,” Opal said, always an adventurer with the knack for recruiting other voyagers. “And if you pulled a muscle or two, so what. There’s probably an acupuncturist here on site.”

  “Good, you’ve been paying attention.” Pearl smiled. “You know what I liked best about our road trip? The Mississippi Bingo Parlors. Who knew losing could be so much fun?”

  Mary Louise laughed. “I don’t think the games had anything to do with it.”

  “Oh you’re talking about Dauber Don.” Pearl’s eyes twinkled. “I will go to my grave with the fondest of memories.”

  “That’s it.” Opal stuck her index finger high in the air. “I know why we’re here now.”

  “Dauber Don had something to do with our incarceration?” Pearl asked.

  Mary Louise scoffed. “We’re not exactly locked up. And no, Mr. Bingo Bad Boy didn’t have anything to do with our stay here, but he might spring you if he knew where to find you.”

  “He might,” Pearl said. “What’s this got to do with our trip again?”

  “The kids probably thought we’d run through their inheritance,” Opal said.

  “So you’re saying we landed here because we took that vacation?” Pearl asked. “Why it was twenty-five years in the making.”

  Mary Louise said, “Exactly and if our trips upset them then they need to stop sticking their noses into our spending habits.”

  “Their behavior ticks me off. I’m not an aunt by blood. I’m an aunt by choice. After this stunt, they’ll be lucky if I leave them a tarnished penny much less my estate.”

  “I don’t blame you,” Mary Louise said, ashamed of her son for being so materialistic.

  Pearl was clearly perplexed. “We didn’t spend every dime we’ve ever earned.”

  “Even if we had, it was ours to spend.” A successful real estate agent and investor, Opal probably had almost every dollar she’d ever saved. Mary Louise’s and Pearl’s children and grandchildren stood to inherit a fortune from Opal. Still, at her age, no one would tell her what to do. She only agreed to the retirement community because Mark and Catherine had convinced her that it would be a great trial run.

  “Sometimes I think you know our kids better than we do,” Pearl said regrettably.

  “I wouldn’t go that far but we seriously have to get out of this place.” Opal was frantic. “If we’re here, we’re in a controlled environment and I don’t like to be controlled.”

  “So our children had motive,” Pearl said, dragging a pink tube of lipstick from her skirt pocket. She puckered and dotted her lips. “I should’ve seen this. Catherine is only nice to me when she wants something.”

  “Let the kids have their moment of triumph. We’re mature enough to handle temporary defeat,” said Mary Louise.

  “Who are you calling defeated?”

  “I’m with Pearl on this one,” Opal said, rubbing her hands together excitedly. “Game on, kids. And the ball is in our court.”

  Chapter Three

  “Who knew captivity could be so inviting,” Pearl said, returning to the porch with a cup of oolong tea.

  She carefully placed the Wedgewood saucer on the wicker’s glass tabletop. She then straightened her beaded necklace, checked to see i
f the matching teardrop clip-style earrings were still in place, and tucked a lock of blue-blonde hair behind her ear.

  Thanks to her stylist, Pearl was the epitome of a little old lady. Frankly, her beautician was the pits. Pearl had barely begun to show her age when Deb the Destroyer insisted on a total makeover. Of course Pearl hadn’t needed such extremes, but Deb had casually mentioned gravity defiance, noticeable crow’s feet, and wrinkles and dimples in all the wrong places.

  The woman must’ve thought she housed magic in her fingertips. Perhaps she was even destined for a job as a miracle preacher. At the end of Pearl’s session, Deb had chanted, “Gone are the days of being a platinum blonde down to your roots and beyond!” That would’ve been enough for Mary Louise to swear off salon appointments.

  Unfortunately, Deb left poor Pearl under the hair dryer for two hours. Prior to her appointment, Pearl hadn’t looked a day over fifty-four. Three hours later, she looked her age and then some. Later the same evening, Mary Louise and Opal picked up their own boxes of blue-silver hair dye and helped out a friend. Thanks to natural wrinkles and faux color, they seemingly fit in well at Cozy Retirement Community.

  Sitting with her clasped hands in her lap, Pearl shifted her weight from one hip to the other, apparently debating a topic she didn’t know how to broach. “If we don’t stay here, where will we go? In Assisted Living 101: An Introduction to Life under the Watchful Eye of Another, the administrator said they want all families to be assured of their loved one’s security.”

  “If that were true, we wouldn’t have any privacy,” Mary Louise grumbled. “On a positive note, I haven’t noticed any Peeping Toms.”

  “On a negative one, Romantic Rob probably isn’t above it.” Opal slipped a finger over her brow, forcing its arch. “This place is dreadful.”

  “Says you,” Pearl grumbled. “If this had been your idea, you would’ve been chirping about how marvelous it is.”

  “Marvelous or not, I’m too old to worry about Peeping Paul or Curious Charles.”

  “I hear you,” Pearl said, fluffing the back of her hair. “I still sleep with my soft curlers. Still net them so they won’t have a lot of leeway.”