Rita Lakin_Gladdy Gold_01 Read Online Free Page A

would
forget.
    "Everybody report in by now?" This is Francie calling to
check up on whether everyone else checked in yet.
    "All present and accounted for."
    We both laugh at the daily absurdity of the phone calls.
We know that before they even made these calls to me, they'd already
talked to one another and gone through the exact same litany.
    And why do they all call
me
? Because I'm the
only one of the girls who can still drive and hasn't relinquished her
car. Denny has his mother's old Ford Fairlane, which we use as a taxi
occasionally. He also helps out by driving relatives to and from the
airport--for a fee which we set for him, or he'd be too shy to ask. Hy
Binder also drives, but no one in their right mind would get into a car
with him, except Lola, who has no choice. God help her--he thinks he's
racing the Daytona 500.
    Harriet works; that lets her out. And Francie gave up her
car when her car gave up on her.
    "Well," Francie says, winding up, "enjoy your chores, Ms.
Limo Driver."
    "Sure you don't want to come along?" There actually is
room for six in my old Chevy wagon, but it's a tight fit. "You can
always sit on Ida's lap."
    "What, and get stabbed by her quills!?"
    "Sophie?"
    "And get stabbed by her parasol?"
    "Coward."
    "Glutton for punishment."
    "What can I do? They
neeeeed
me." As if we
haven't enjoyed this conversation a hundred times.
    "Read my lips." And we recite it, singsong, together.
"Get a cab! Take a bus. Walk. Stay hoooome."
    I smile as I hang up. I love that wonderful woman. She is
my soul mate. What would I ever do without her?
----
5

    Going into Town, Or
Trying to
    G lad, can we please get going?
I'm dying from the heat already." Evvie has a right to complain. We've
been waiting forever, or so it seems, for everyone to get into my car.
The pavement is burning our feet.
    First, Bella, terrified of forgetting anything, left her
shopping list on the kitchen table, so she went scampering back for it.
Then Sophie, who would never let anyone break her record for lateness,
went back for her sunblock even though we'd only be walking outside
from the parking lot into the market.
    "We can always leave them behind," I say.
    "Then let's do it. Heckle and Jeckle are driving me up
one wall and down the other," agrees Evvie, the impatient organizer.
    "Bella! Sophie! Get down here already," screeches Ida,
who has less patience than anyone.
    Sophie waves gaily out her window. "I'm almost ready. I
got my head together, but the rest of me is falling apart."
    Ida is in a bad mood anyway. As usual, her mailbox was
empty this morning. She mailed an expensive birthday gift to one of her
grandchildren. (She'd never admit it's bribery.) No one has bothered to
thank her or even acknowledge receiving it.
    I try not to open my mailbox when she is around. I feel
guilty when I get so many wonderful letters from my grandchildren in
New York. I'm truly blessed. And genuinely sorry for Ida.
    Evvie is tapping her foot, a very bad sign. "I promised
Meyer I'd get my copy over to the newspaper before noon. Now, he won't
be there when I get there. I'm going to kill those two
shmegeggies
!"
    She's furious; she's never late with her copy.
    I've pulled the sunshade off the windshield, I've got all
the windows and doors open, and I'll put the air on as soon as I see
them coming. The car should be bearable enough to get in now. And we're
still waiting.
    Ida, trying to keep her temper in check, is now reading
the notices on the bulletin board next to the elevator. "Did you see
this, girls?" We turn.
    "There's another flyer warning us about this guy who's
killing older women. They say we should never go out alone at night, or
go into bad neighborhoods."
    "Well, we don't have to be concerned," Evvie says. "We're
always asleep by nine o'clock and, anyway, we never leave our
neighborhood."
    "They're worried about us being followed home," I comment
as I read over her shoulder. "This guy manages to get into women's
apartments without breaking