by Rita Lakin
“No, go away.” She won’t face us. “Leave me alone. I mean it. Go away!”
Ida gently pats her on the back. She winces. We leave her standing there.
Hours later, some of us are still there. We have been taking turns waiting. Irving had his way. He’s still with Millie. We’re sitting in a circle of chairs and couches. Ida, Bella, Mary, Enya, Yolie, Denny, and me. Enya leads us in prayer.
“The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want...”
Sophie still won’t join us. I feel terrible for her suffering. But I can see her lips moving with ours.
It is near midnight when Irving comes back to us. We’ve been sleeping or dozing or reading, but we are still there. He looks exhausted, but there is a small smile. We look to him expectantly.
“She is out of the coma. She will live.”
We all run to him and embrace him. He tells us to go home and rest, but he is staying.
As everyone picks up books and newspapers, sweaters, preparing to go home, Irving walks over to Sophie.
“I’m so sorry,” she sobs. She can’t look him in the face. “It’s all my fault. I’m so sorry.”
He puts his arms around her and holds her. “Please don’t blame yourself. Millie wouldn’t want you to.” He kisses her gently on the forehead.
We are all in a puddle of tears.
We stand outside for a few moments, breathing the cool nighttime air. Yolie and Denny tell us they will walk back home.
“Tell them, Denny.” Yolie insists, pulling at his shirt.
His head is bowed. “Yolanda wanted me to tell you about us taking Irving and Millie to that awful doctor. But I didn’t listen to her.” He cannot look at us.
Mary tries to comfort them. “Millie was in very bad shape. You knew that. She was near the end. Irving wanted to try anything—maybe it would have helped. But you mustn’t blame yourself.”
Yolie asks, “What happens to her now? Will she come home?”
Mary answers. “I doubt it. I believe she will have to go to an Alzheimer’s facility. She will need much more care than you can give her.”
“What about Mr. Irving?”
Ida answers that one. “He’ll need all the help all of us can give him. Maybe you’ll stay with him?”
She cries with joy. “I will never leave him alone.” Denny hugs her.
They walk on, clutching each other. Mary drives Enya home.
The rest of us pile into my car.
As we drive across the street to where we live, Sophie tells us she’s made a decision. “I’m gonna call the AMA and tell them about Dr. Friendly.” We nod, though in the dark of the car she can’t see that. It doesn’t matter. She knows we are on her side and support whatever she wants to do.
We continue to hold vigil most of Sunday. There is no change in Millie.
Finally, utterly exhausted, back in my apartment, I notice that I have a message on my cell phone. It’s from Hope Watson. Apparently the prodigals have just come home from their weekend trip. She thought I’d like to know that and maybe do something about my sister.
Monday afternoon I’m back at Wilmington House, yet again. I look around for her. Evvie is nowhere to be found. I make discreet inquiries, since everyone seems to be on an Evelyn and Philip watch. Not seen today at all. Not at lunch. Or breakfast. But, I am told with snickering, there are hints from kitchen staff that meals are being served by room service. In Philip’s room. Maids report there has been a Do Not Disturb sign on all day. Even the staff is in on the excitement. No wonder Hope gives me a dirty look as I pass her in the lobby. I move away quickly before she starts asking questions. I ponder what to do. Go upstairs and knock on his door? And make a fool of myself? No way.
I try Evvie’s apartment first. I knock, but no answer. I open our adjoining doors and enter, but there’s nothing to see but the usual spotlessly clean rooms left by the daily maid. I stand listlessly in the middle of her living room.
I don’t remember the last time I felt this unsure. What do I do now?
THIRTY-FIVE
NIGHT GAMES
“Hit me.” Evvie indicates her cards. She’s showing a three and a deuce.
Philip deals. It’s a ten. Evvie groans. She turns over her card. Also a ten. Phil singsongs, “Take it off. Take it off. ”
It’s midnight. They are in Philip’s apartment, straddling his king-size bed. Two bottles of champagne sit in their buckets, one empty, one with only a quarter left. They’re drunk and by now everything’s funny.
Evvie sits on her knees and struggles to unbutton her blouse. Too drunk to manage it, she tries to pull it over her head. It isn’t easy since she’s purposely put on as many pieces of clothing as she could. She can’t stop laughing. Neither can Philip. Alongside the deck of cards lay the already discarded, strip poker items. A sun hat—Evvie’s. Sunglasses—Evvie’s. One beach robe—Evvie’s. One sweatshirt—ditto. The only item on Philip’s pile are a pair of socks.
She mumbles, almost incoherently, “Not fair.” The blouse is now stuck over her nose. She giggles.
He reaches over. “And it’s also not fair you put on twice as many clothes as I did. Here, let me help you.” He gently tries to pull it off, but she keeps trying also, which causes them both to fall sideways as the blouse rips. She is down to a T-shirt and bra. For a moment they look intensely at each other, their faces very close. He reaches out and gently smooths her hair.
Her lips are close to his. She whispers, “You must be cheating.”
“How can I be cheating? You see what I deal.” His breath blows wisps of air into her ear. She shudders, deliciously.
They both manage to pull themselves back up. Evvie hiccups, and then giggles. “Well, you better not be.” She reaches for the cards and starts dealing, clumsily dropping many of the cards.
“So, go back to what you were telling me,” Philip urges.
“I was singing at this club in the village. It was my big chance. The joint was filled with servicemen on leave. I was good. I know I was.”
She deals him a six. He indicates wanting another. She deals him a king. He turns his card over. Another picture.
“Gotcha.” Evvie is gleeful.
Philip reaches for the tie that hangs lopsided around his neck. She leans over to help him pull it off. And falls against him. He holds on to her.
“I was good. I coulda been the next Doris Day. I know it.”
He nuzzles her hair. “I’m sure you could.” He moves her so she’ll be seated in his lap. Her face is in his neck; she makes little hiccupping sounds.
“So what happened, Evelyn dear?”
“I met a soldier that night. I was dumb enough to marry him and that was the end of my career.” She starts to cry.
He rocks her gently in his arms.
Her voice is slippery. “You coulda been a star, too, with your golden voice.”
“I dabbled a bit in the arts. I acted for a while.” That interests Evvie, but she is too immobile to respond with any energy. She mutters. “Would I know you? Where would I have seen you?”
He stops her with his lips and kisses her long and hard. He pulls away. “Not important.” He indicates the cards. “You lost again.”
She looks confused. “Were we playing?” She doesn’t remember the cards being dealt; they were all in a jumble.
“We never stopped, and you lost again,” he says as he lifts her T-shirt and slowly removes it. He looks at her. “You’re beautiful.” He pulls the straps of her bra down and gently kisses her breasts. She moans.
“Now help me.” He lifts her hands to help him take off his shirt. She stares at his naked chest.
“You’re beautiful, too.”
“Even the band is beautiful.”
She laughs, knowing the reference. “Cabaret.”
“Life is a cabaret, dearest Evelyn. And we shall live it to the fullest.”
He lays her down on the bed and lowers his body onto hers.
THIRTY-SIX
THE SH
OWDOWN
I had dozed off on Evvie’s couch. I’m wakened by the sound of the key turning in her lock. I glance at my watch. It’s four A.M. I stand and face the door as it opens. Evvie is startled to see me. Her face is blotchy, her hair and makeup a mess. For a moment neither one of us speaks.
Evvie drops the small overnight bag she’s carrying. “Run out of sugar?”
Uh-oh, she’s on the defensive. “More like run out of patience.”
She walks past me into her kitchen and puts some water in the kettle.
I follow her. “You might want to know that Millie nearly died last night.”
She has the decency to look upset. “Is she all right?”
“That’s a long conversation for another time, but I will say she’s never coming home again.”
She pales. I can see that Evvie is trying not to react. She seems determined to deal only with right now. Evvie puts cups out for both of us. “Join me in a cup of tea?”
“Whatever. You’ve avoided me long enough. We have to talk.”
“There’s nothing to talk about.”
“You can look me in the eye and say that? Evvie, your behavior with Philip has destroyed any possibility of keeping you on this case.” God, how stuffy I sound.
The kettle whistles. She pours the tea and looks straight at me. “See? I’m looking you in the eye. I don’t give a damn about this case. Call Ferguson and tell him: case solved. Phil is no murderer!”
“And how do you know this for sure?”
Her hand shakes as she lifts the cup. “Because I know how wonderful he is. Because I love him!”
I sigh. “Oh, Evvie.” I feel myself trembling. I didn’t expect this. “What happened to playing a role and getting at the truth?”
Now Evvie drops all pretense of wanting tea. Her eyes open wide. If she could breathe fire, she would. “I am telling you the truth. And don’t you ‘oh, Evvie’ me. Don’t you use that condescending tone. What do you think—you have a monopoly on falling in love?”
“You actually believe you fell in love at first sight?”
She mimics me. “Yes, I actually did. I fell madly in love with him the moment I saw him. And he fell for me as well.”
“Please let’s sit down and discuss this.” I can’t stop sounding stiff and formal, but this is an Evvie I don’t know anymore. I thought I knew my sister, but this throws me. All our years of closeness and I could read her as well as she could read me. All this time, I thought she was playacting. How could I have been so blind?
“No, I don’t want to. Your disappointment is like a black cloud fouling the room. I’m happy and I won’t have you raining on my parade.”
I try to say something but she won’t let me. “And don’t give me this bull about our case. I don’t give a damn about it.” She takes a sip of her tea, grimaces, and then pours it down the sink. “You know how many years I’ve waited for the right man to come along? Only all my life. I thought I might get a second chance after Joe dumped me. But what was out there? Drips.” She laughs.
“Drips—there’s an out-of-date word. How about losers. Deadbeats. Schmucks. I told myself it would never happen. All the good men were taken. Not that I had the right man in the first place. Joe was a dud. I fell in love with a soldier’s uniform and the romance of war. I married him because he came back alive. But he was never the one, Gladdy. You know that. You’ve seen me through all the pain of that marriage. Once the kids had come, the trap was sprung. No way out.”
I try to say something but she stops me with her hand. There’s a hell of a lot she’s got to get off her chest. I listen. What else can I do?
“Then you come down here to live near me and I think, this is good, we have each other. We’ll grow old together, we don’t really need men, and that’s that. But, no, you get to meet Jack. And both of you fall in love. You’d already had a great marriage the first time. Now you get a chance for another happy marriage. I will never have what you had twice. What will happen to me? I get to shrivel up all alone.”
All these sad years, I think. I thought we were close, but she never talked about this before. She kept it all in. And my happy marriage? The one that lasted eleven years before my husband was murdered and my life ruined. What’s happened to her sensitivity about that? “Evvie. We see a pattern in Philip. He goes from one retirement community to another and picks a woman—”
“Shut up! He’s a good man. He was kind to Esther Ferguson. He knew she’d die soon and he gave her comfort. He let her think it was love. He explained that to me.”
I hate to say it, but I have to. “He thinks you’re going to die soon. You told him that because you knew that would attract him.”
For a moment, Evvie stares at me. I feel the white heat of her rage. “You dare to think this is pity? This is different!”
“How is it different? He thinks you’re rich. He thinks you’ll die. He will comfort you, too. He’s out to get something from you. We don’t know what it is yet...”
“How little faith you have in me. How arrogant of you. You think you’re the only one who would recognize a good man? Well, Philip is a good man. You’re wrong about him. He’s kind and loving. The man I deserve to have.”
“Yes. He’s a saint.”
She runs out of the kitchen, toward her bedroom, shouting at me. “Get out of here. You just stay away from him!” With that, she shuts herself in.
I walk to her bedroom and stand there talking to a closed door. “Please, Evvie, don’t do this.”
She flings the door open. I haven’t seen her like this since she was a child having tantrums. Her face is livid. “You’re just jealous. You’ve lost Jack because of your stupid stubbornness. You won’t even sleep with him! You think I didn’t know what was going on? Or should I say what wasn’t going on? Well, I’m not making your mistake, sister dear. I know how to please a man even if you don’t! I am having the best and only good sex I’ve ever had in my entire life and I’m not going to let you spoil it for me. Now, get out of my apartment!”
I drag my weary way through our adjoining doors back to my own apartment. For a moment I stand unmoving, as if I’ve lost my bearings.
My sister hates me. I no longer have a sister.
Philip is almost asleep when he hears the frantic knocking. He opens the door slightly so as not to reveal his nakedness.
Evvie stands in the hallway, sobbing. He pulls her inside. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
“I had a fight. A terrible fight.”
“With whom? Where did you meet someone at this hour to fight with?”
Evvie’s eyes widen and she steps back from him. “It was my next-door neighbor. She saw me coming in late, looking disheveled. She called me names—”
“Who is it? I’ll go now.” He reaches for his robe.
She grabs his arms. “It’s not important.” Evvie suddenly realizes he has nothing on. She stops, startled. Sober now.
He pulls her close to him. She trembles from the bareness of his skin against her.
“Stay with me. All night.”
“I shouldn’t.”
“Of course you should. I’ll protect you.”
He wraps her arms around his nude body. “Stay with me forever. Evelyn, I’ve waited for you all my life, dearest love.”
His skin feels hot to her touch. Yet she shivers. “When was the last time you felt like this?”
She moans. “Never.”
He lifts her up and carries her to the bed. Evvie feels as if she were sinking into a golden pool of quicksand.
THIRTY-SEVEN
AFTERMATH
I hear noise coming from somewhere close. It wakes me. My head aches. Another dreadful night. I didn’t drop off until about seven A.M. I am beginning to feel sleep-deprived. I lift my head and look at the clock. Eleven-thirty A.M. Dragging my sluggish self out of bed, I get into the shower and pour water, as hot as I can stand it, over my aching body.
Evvie’s words have reverberated in my head all ni
ght. In her hurt, my sister called me a failure. My fault that Jack left me. Those words said in anger will hurt forever. She says she’s in love, so why does she have so much rage? Because she doesn’t want me to spoil her happiness? But she knows I would always want her to be happy. Because another part of her knows she is wrong? And she is in denial?
Or am I wrong? I am no longer sure of what I feel or what I think. My head spins and I feel a throbbing headache coming on.
I get dressed to go downstairs. But what for? What’s the point of my being here now? Should I call Alvin Ferguson and give up the case? It’s tainted now.
As I walk out into the hall, I see Evvie’s front door is open. People are moving about inside. This is odd. Usually there is only the one daily maid. I glance in and see Evvie’s suitcase on a trolley. Along with clothes on hangers on a rack. A porter is about to wheel everything out.
“What’s going on?” I ask.
The porter reaches me. “Mrs. Markowitz will be residing in another apartment. She has given up this apartment.” I can see by his smirk that he’s up on the gossip, too.
I’m stunned. She’s moving in with Philip. So fast? Because of our fight? Things are happening too quickly. She musn’t move in with him. What if he is a killer! Is there any way to stop this? But how?
I am going back to Lanai Gardens. I have to tell the girls what’s happening. Oh, how I wish Jack was here. I need his level head.
When I reach the main lobby I see the backs of a large group of people. They’re laughing at something. I walk over, curious.
Evvie and Philip are standing in front of this large assembly of avid listeners. Evvie is reading as Philip, at her side, gazes adoringly at her. What is she saying? I move closer. Feeling like an idiot, I use the large palm trees as cover and I listen in.
Then I realize what she’s doing. Evvie is reading her new review of the movie they played here, Adam’s Rib.
“And so the lines are drawn. Kate Hepburn has taken on Judy Holliday’s case. And Spencer defends the ugly husband. And every night they fight over it and always nearby is that silly neighbor. I can still hear that song he writes for Kate, called ‘Farewell, Amanda.’ He is always trying to break up their love, but love always conquers all. This is a romance and romance is always wonderful.” Here she glows at Philip. “And, of course, they live happily ever after.”
