Getting Old Is Criminal (27 page)

Philip hesitates. “You got me. I forgot.”

“Robert Wagner. I win.”

“And this is your reward, Miss Smarty-pants.”

He kisses her, hard, leaving her breathless.

“We’re going to be arrested for indecent expo-sure. We’ll be disgraced in front of everybody.”

“Who cares. My turn.
A Place in the Sun.

Author.”

2 6 8 • R i t a L a k i n

“Theodore Dreiser.”

“Original title?”

“An American Tragedy.”

“Female lead?”

“Elizabeth Taylor.”

“Male lead?”

“Montgomery Clift.”

“Other female lead?”

“Shelley Winters.”

“Director?”

Evvie is stumped. “No fair, only four questions
allowed.”

“George Stevens. You lose. My pleasure.”

Evvie throws the rest of her popcorn at him.

“Come on.” He takes her hand and places it on
his knee.

“How come you only choose movies where innocent women are murdered?”

He moves her hand up his leg, slowly.

Evvie gets with it, teasing him with light
touches. He moans.

Suddenly, Philip pushes her away, his whole
body shaking as he cries out in pain.

“What is it? Are you all right?”

His hands move to his head.

“You look like you’re in pain. What is it?”

“It’s these damn migraines.” Philip presses his
left hand against his temple as if to push the pain
away. Then he reaches his other hand in his pocket
and pulls out his medication. He’s trembling so
hard, he can hardly open the container. Finally he
G e t t i n g O l d I s C r i m i n a l • 2 6 9

manages to shake out two pills. Evvie quickly pulls
the cap off their water bottle and hands it to him.

Philip leans his head back against the seat, his
eyes closed, his body shuddering. He moans quietly for a few minutes, then he opens his eyes
again.

“Are you all right, my darling?” She is frightened for him.

“Forgive me, Evelyn, my dearest. For a moment
I wasn’t myself.”

With that he closes his eyes again as Evvie gently wipes his sweating face.

FORTY-TWO

FRIENDS AND SISTERS

Ida tries to console me. I have been trying to reach Evvie ever since we got home from Barbi and Casey’s Gossip meeting. She doesn’t return my calls. Ida and I go for a walk to help me calm my nerves. When we get back there’s a message on the machine. From Evvie. For a moment, I have hope.

I listen, then rewind it and listen again.

“Stop calling. There is nothing you can say that I would want to hear. I am very happy. Leave me alone.”

I start to rewind again, but Ida takes my hand.

“Glad, enough. Stop torturing yourself.”

“I know. It’s just so hard to let her go.”

“In all the time I’ve known you two, I’ve never seen her like this before.”

“It’s because she hasn’t wanted anything badly G e t t i n g O l d I s C r i m i n a l • 2 7 1

enough. Believe me, when she really wants something she’ll do anything to have it. Like when she was a kid, she was always jealous of me. She couldn’t get it through her head I got things before her because I was the older one. When I got the two-wheeler bike first, she wanted one, too, and right away. Mom would tell her that in two years it would be her turn. She’d throw a tantrum. You can imagine how she behaved when I brought home my first boyfriend. She did everything she could to sabotage us.”

“Good old sibling rivalry. I only have a brother and we always hated each other’s guts, but we never wanted what the other one got.”

“My favorite memory is when Evvie found a dead mouse and put it under the couch where my boyfriend and I were sitting. The smell drove him home.”

Ida grins. And I do, too.

I can’t keep my eyes off the answering machine.

Ida shakes her head. “Don’t even think about it.”

“But she’s in real danger.”

“If you insist on trying to interfere with Evvie and her obsession with Philip, you’ll only make her dig deeper in. You can’t reach her that way. I know that for a fact.” Ida turns to the window, her back to me. “That’s how I lost my son. Andy was going with Sheila, and they broke up. I made the mistake of telling him I never liked her, and I listed all her awful qualities. When they made up again 2 7 2 • R i t a L a k i n

and got married, neither of them wanted anything more to do with me.”

It’s been years since Ida mentioned the rift in her family. But she never told me why they never write, why they don’t let her visit her grandchildren.

“I tried to apologize. They weren’t interested.

She turned my weak-willed son totally against me.”

I put my hand on her shoulder. “I’m so sorry.”

She nods, through tears. Her voice is hesitant, as if she’s choosing her words carefully. “I guess I’ve always wanted to tell somebody. It would have been you, but you and Evvie were so close . . .”

“I wish you had. How did you keep all this in without cracking?”

She smiles wryly. “Maybe by becoming a bitch?”

I reach out and hug her. I remember when Ida moved in. It was fifteen years ago or so. She came alone. She wasn’t interested in making friends and stayed by herself a lot. But slowly, I am guessing, when she felt safe, she started joining in the activities around here. She never spoke of her family except to mention her son and his family in California. But she said very little. And we were always aware she wrote them letters but they weren’t answered. She had no family pictures hanging anywhere in her apartment. But why do I feel she is still leaving something out?

Briskly, Ida changes the subject. “I know this is different. It could be a matter of life and death.”

“I have to warn Evvie.”

G e t t i n g O l d I s C r i m i n a l • 2 7 3

“She won’t believe you. But you can’t get through to her by bad-mouthing Philip. Not yet, anyway. We have to wait for the right opportunity.”

“You’re a wise old owl,” I say, hugging her. We both shed a few tears and feel better. “Let’s try and concentrate on something happier. Like the up-coming Tessie-Sol marriage.”

Ida starts to laugh. “Did you see the expression on his face when Tessie saved his ass by proposing to him?”

“I had the feeling he’d rather have been hauled off to jail.” Now I’m laughing.

“I bet he’ll lose that sex urge for good the minute she gets naked.”

“And then he’ll have to go back to being the Peeper.”

Laughing hard feels so good.

*

*

*

I lie on the couch. Ida went home hours ago. I am so tired, but I can’t sleep. I miss my partner, my sister. She was always my other half. What I didn’t know, Evvie usually did. Her insights were sharp.

They complemented mine. If I saw something one way, she’d figure out the other angle. We should be sitting next to each other right now, excitedly firing away our thoughts. We’d put our heads together and come up with the solution. I still can’t believe she’s not here.

All along, even when I was worried about her 2 7 4 • R i t a L a k i n

playing the role of a widow, I felt she had good instincts about Philip. But that was before she fell under his spell.

I close my eyes and try to recall the things she said. My mind conjures up our first meeting with the Fergusons. When Evvie heard Philip’s name, what was her comment? After a few moments it comes to me. She said what a la-di-da name. As if he was already sounding phony.

I sit up. I’m getting excited. Evvie, dear, you were onto him and you didn’t know it. I try to remember the next comment she made about him.

But first, I raid the fridge. A few cookies with lots of sugar might help. Nervous eating is called for.

Then when Smythe made his grand entrance at Wilmington House, Evvie said he could play Dracula in summer stock. Even then he seemed un-real to her.

I think about the parking lot, the time we were giving the girls hell for sneaking in, pretending to take a tour. Philip drove up with those women in the car, and Evvie said—now I pace, trying to recall her words. Evvie said, “Talk about corny acting.”

Now I’m pacing faster, and stuffing more cookies down my throat. I’ll be sorry tomorrow. When she started dancing with him at the mixer, the first thing she said to him was, “Did anyone ever tell you that you look like a movie star?” I assumed she was handing him a line. She was. But there are G e t t i n g O l d I s C r i m i n a l • 2 7 5

a million other lines she could have used. Yet every time she’s commented about him . . . yes!

And when he interrupted the canasta game she was playing, he flirted with all the women, giving them all a line.

Evvie, you did it! You nailed him. You’ve seen just about every movie you possibly could, every TV show as well. You didn’t realize it at the time, but your subconscious recognized him. You’d seen him as an actor! An actor using a stage name. Not his real name at all.

So eleven years ago an actor took on his character’s name, Philip Smythe—and began a secret life.

Why?

Suddenly it’s as if a weight is lifted. Evvie and I are doing what we do best. Working together.

Figuring things out. As if she were sitting here with me right now, I can almost feel her presence in the room. Thanks, sis.

*

*

*

Now I’m anxious again. I called my friend Conchetta at home a while ago and filled her in on all the latest developments. She said she’d look up Philip Smythe’s name on her home computer.

A few minutes later, she calls back.

“Any luck?” I ask.

“No,” she answers. “I Googled the name but nothing came up. I assume if it was a famous character name, it would have appeared. I also tried theater, TV, and movies on the Internet Movie 2 7 6 • R i t a L a k i n

Database. If they don’t have it, it’s either nonexist-ent or not important enough to make the cut.

Sorry.”

I’m disappointed, but I try to hide it. “Well, thanks for trying. I know I interrupted you and your family’s evening entertainment.”

“Not to worry. We taped this week’s episode of
Lost;
our family’s hooked on it. I hope you can get Evvie out of there soon. Keep me informed.”

“I will. Thanks again, Conchetta. I’ll see you at the library soon, I hope. When we can get this thing wrapped up.”

*

*

*

More pacing. And thinking.

So not in movies, theater, or TV. Through my tears of frustration, I finally smile. Maybe not nighttime TV, but daytime? Who was it told me about a show where the characters all had stuffy names? Of course. Now I know just the person who might be able to tell me who played the part of Philip Smythe.

I can hardly wait until morning.

FORTY-THREE

DOR A KNOWS HER

SHOWBIZ

It is a beautiful September day, not a breeze in the air, just gentle warmth caressing the body.

Everything seems so different with Evvie being away. The girls step out of their doors this morning expecting we’d go back into exercise mode, now that I’m staying home for a while. I still can’t make up my mind. Remain here until I hear from Evvie, or go back to Wilmington House, where I can keep an eye on her even if I can’t protect her?

At the moment it feels right to stay. I can think better in my own surroundings. While we were away, Ida was trying to keep the girls on our usual schedule, but without us, it faltered. But even though the girls are expecting it, I’m not adhering to our old schedule. The girls are befuddled.

2 7 8 • R i t a L a k i n

They watch me walk away from my building.

Ida tentatively calls out, “Want company?”

I shake my head and continue on. I walk briskly to Phase Six. My head is full of last night’s realiza-tions. Was Evvie’s subconscious right? Am I correct in thinking so? It’s a long shot, but I’ll know soon enough.