Beach Rental(33)
“How’s your arthritis?”
She held up her hands. The reddened knuckles were enlarged and the fingers were crooked. “About the same. You know, I try all sorts of things—anything that makes any kind of sense to try, but no help.”
Monster cat slinked down the back of the couch and moved onto Mrs. White’s lap. She dug her fingers into his fur and he purred like a freight train. He fixed his green eyes on Juli. Was it a dare? A taunt?
He’s a cat, Juli.
“How is it going with your friend? How is he? Is he better now?” Buster had maneuvered back into the living room and settled himself on top of Mrs. White’s feet.
“Well, actually, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” She took a sip of tea. “He’s about the same and I expect to stay away much longer.”
Mrs. White laid one finger alongside her cheek and asked, “What else, dear?”
Juli tilted her head to the side, wondering. She hadn’t planned to tell her about the marriage. “Like what?”
The old woman’s eyes twinkled. She reached over and grabbed a book from the end table. Her lap shifted with the movement and monster cat yowled.
“Oh, hush.”
She opened the book and pulled out a slip of paper. Juli stared. A newspaper clipping. Mrs. White extended her hand and Juli walked the few steps over to receive it.
“It was in the paper?”
“You’re a married lady now. No photo, though. You should’ve had a photo and a longer write-up, dear.” She leaned forward, catching monster cat in a vise between lap and bosom. “No need to hide it. Not from me.”
“Hide what?”
“Well, the usual reason for a hasty marriage.”
“Oh. No, it’s nothing like that.” She was aghast. “I was helping my friend and we—well, we decided it would be more convenient to marry.”
How silly did that sound? Likely, Mrs. White agreed because she looked happily unconvinced.
“Well, if you say so, dear. You’ll want to give up your apartment. I shall be sorry to lose you, both as a neighbor and a tenant.”
“I’d like to keep it another month to give me time to clear it and clean it.”
“You’re a thoughtful girl. I'll miss you. Frankie said you’d be moving, although he didn’t mention a wedding.”
“He told you I’d be moving?”
“He wanted a look at the apartment. I said to him, ‘now, you know I can’t climb those stairs.’ And he said, ‘no need, Mrs. W.’—that’s what he calls me—‘no need, loan me the keys for a few minutes and I’ll take a look myself.’”
“He’s seen my apartment many times.”
“Well, and that’s what I told him. I wouldn’t let someone go in there without your permission and unattended even if he is a friend of yours. Not the way to run a house.”
“I appreciate you telling him no. I’m surprised he asked.”
“That’s because you’re young, dear. People ask all sorts of strange things.” She picked up monster cat and dropped him to the floor. He hit Buster on the way down and rolled to a stop. No one seemed perturbed, least of all Buster. She shook her feet and the dog dislodged himself.
“I don’t know how I ended up with this menagerie. Sometimes things fall into your life and without you expecting it, they stick.”
“May I keep the clipping?”
“Certainly, dear. Thirty days, is it?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“I’ll mark it on my calendar. I’ll call you if someone wants to see it, if you wouldn’t mind meeting them here to show it for me?”
“I’m happy to. Let me know when you get some interest.”
“Perhaps you could even bring your young man by to meet this old woman?”
“I’ll see what I can do.” She hugged Mrs. White and left. She didn’t try Frankie’s door again, but went straight out the front and around to her entrance at the back. She paused outside the door to read the clipping. It was small, only about an inch of text. It gave their names and the date of their marriage. Cooke-Bradshaw Nuptials. A ceremony on the beach, it said. The header was almost bigger than the article. She tucked it carefully into her wallet.
Who else had seen it? Maybe some of her old co-workers at Singers? Co-workers from other jobs, too, if they read newspapers, and if they remembered her name. No one would care.
Why did Frankie want to get into her apartment? Curiosity? Information?
In the pit of her stomach, she knew he wasn’t done. He’d be back.
Today’s effort to discourage him had been futile, but what could she do?