around well enough to go back home?'
Sophie hooked a thumb at Henry. 'I'm selling my place and shacking up with him. We're going to follow our muse and live in sin.'
Henry blushed. Given the quiet, straight-arrow image he'd always projected at our coffeehouse, I was relieved the top of his skull hadn't blown off.
Time--no, past time--to go. 'We'd love to hear more,' I said quickly, 'but Sarah has to pick up her Aunt Vi's things.'
Henry threw me a grateful look.
'Such a blasted shame that was,' Sophie said. 'She was about as lively as they come. In my Red Hat group. Went out every day.'
'Which was her undoing,' Henry contributed ominously.
'Why?' I turned to Sarah. 'How did your aunt die?'
'I told you,' Sarah said. 'Kornell dropped her off at a store and pulled away too quickly. She had her hand on the door handle and fell.'
'Broke her hip,' Sophie said. 'A week later, she was worm food.'
'Pneumonia,' Henry pronounced. 'The enemy of the elderly.'
'Right,' said Sarah. 'Can we please get going?'
Having been reminded of our mission, she seemed impatient to get it done. And us out.
'Be nice,' I hissed at her under my breath.
'Nah, don't bother,' Sophie said as Henry started to push the chair again. 'Nobody here is nice. We live this long, we figure we can say whatever damn well comes into our heads.'
And with a wave of her hand, the lovebirds departed.
Contrary to Sophie Daystrom's assessment, Mr Levitt, the Manor's social worker, seemed nice.
'Please sit a bit,' he said, waving us into the two visitors' chairs across the desk from his own.
He took off horned-rimmed glasses and set them on the calendar that covered the small portion of his desk not piled high with file folders. 'I'm glad you found your way over here. This place is a labyrinth, especially since we added the Sunrise Wing. We prefer to have everything on one floor--for the wheelchairs, you know--but that means the building has to sprawl a scosh.'
'A scosh,' Sarah echoed with a straight face.
I elbowed her. 'We met one of the wheelchairs on the way here. Candy-apple-red, motorized model?'
'Ah, yes. Clara Huseby. A charming woman.'
Great, Mr Levitt was both nice and delusional. I thought maybe I should set him straight before Klepto Clara added vehicular manslaughter to her Manor rap sheet.
'I'm certain she is,' I started. 'But with the speed of the wheelchair and that battering ram of a leg sticking out, she nearly flattened us coming around the corner.'
'Really?' Mr Levitt's face had changed from friendly to blank. That shade called 'wary of a lawsuit'.
'Really,' I said. 'I thought you'd want to know.' I considered telling him about the stealing, but I had that only via hearsay--and Sophie's hearsay, at that.
'She's a thief, too,' Sarah offered. 'Check her lap-robe sometime.'
'I'll do that,' Levitt said shortly. 'Now, though, back to your business?'
The placing of the emphasis on 'your' was nicely done, I thought. And fair as well.
'I'm so sorry about Mr Eisvogel,' Levitt continued. 'It's as if they couldn't live without each other. First, Vi went and then Kornell--what, a week later?'
'Let's call it a scosh,' Sarah said. This time I didn't elbow her. Let the social worker defend himself. 'My cousin Ronny said you had some of my Auntie Vi's things. He asked me to pick them up.'
'Yes. Yes, of course.' Levitt stood up and went to a closet behind his desk. When he opened the door, I saw that the shelves were lined with stuffed grocery bags, recycled from various area stores. Waste not, want not.
Levitt ran his finger along the top shelf, then the next, searching for just the right sack. On the third level, he found what he was looking for. An over-stuffed grocery bag from Schultz's Market.
'Ah, here it is.' Levitt set it on the desk.
I pointed at the closet. 'All personal effects?'
'Yes. Not everyone has a family member, or at least one who cares enough to claim them.' He shrugged.
'Lot of turnover, huh?' From Sarah, naturally.
Levitt
Sophie hooked a thumb at Henry. 'I'm selling my place and shacking up with him. We're going to follow our muse and live in sin.'
Henry blushed. Given the quiet, straight-arrow image he'd always projected at our coffeehouse, I was relieved the top of his skull hadn't blown off.
Time--no, past time--to go. 'We'd love to hear more,' I said quickly, 'but Sarah has to pick up her Aunt Vi's things.'
Henry threw me a grateful look.
'Such a blasted shame that was,' Sophie said. 'She was about as lively as they come. In my Red Hat group. Went out every day.'
'Which was her undoing,' Henry contributed ominously.
'Why?' I turned to Sarah. 'How did your aunt die?'
'I told you,' Sarah said. 'Kornell dropped her off at a store and pulled away too quickly. She had her hand on the door handle and fell.'
'Broke her hip,' Sophie said. 'A week later, she was worm food.'
'Pneumonia,' Henry pronounced. 'The enemy of the elderly.'
'Right,' said Sarah. 'Can we please get going?'
Having been reminded of our mission, she seemed impatient to get it done. And us out.
'Be nice,' I hissed at her under my breath.
'Nah, don't bother,' Sophie said as Henry started to push the chair again. 'Nobody here is nice. We live this long, we figure we can say whatever damn well comes into our heads.'
And with a wave of her hand, the lovebirds departed.
Contrary to Sophie Daystrom's assessment, Mr Levitt, the Manor's social worker, seemed nice.
'Please sit a bit,' he said, waving us into the two visitors' chairs across the desk from his own.
He took off horned-rimmed glasses and set them on the calendar that covered the small portion of his desk not piled high with file folders. 'I'm glad you found your way over here. This place is a labyrinth, especially since we added the Sunrise Wing. We prefer to have everything on one floor--for the wheelchairs, you know--but that means the building has to sprawl a scosh.'
'A scosh,' Sarah echoed with a straight face.
I elbowed her. 'We met one of the wheelchairs on the way here. Candy-apple-red, motorized model?'
'Ah, yes. Clara Huseby. A charming woman.'
Great, Mr Levitt was both nice and delusional. I thought maybe I should set him straight before Klepto Clara added vehicular manslaughter to her Manor rap sheet.
'I'm certain she is,' I started. 'But with the speed of the wheelchair and that battering ram of a leg sticking out, she nearly flattened us coming around the corner.'
'Really?' Mr Levitt's face had changed from friendly to blank. That shade called 'wary of a lawsuit'.
'Really,' I said. 'I thought you'd want to know.' I considered telling him about the stealing, but I had that only via hearsay--and Sophie's hearsay, at that.
'She's a thief, too,' Sarah offered. 'Check her lap-robe sometime.'
'I'll do that,' Levitt said shortly. 'Now, though, back to your business?'
The placing of the emphasis on 'your' was nicely done, I thought. And fair as well.
'I'm so sorry about Mr Eisvogel,' Levitt continued. 'It's as if they couldn't live without each other. First, Vi went and then Kornell--what, a week later?'
'Let's call it a scosh,' Sarah said. This time I didn't elbow her. Let the social worker defend himself. 'My cousin Ronny said you had some of my Auntie Vi's things. He asked me to pick them up.'
'Yes. Yes, of course.' Levitt stood up and went to a closet behind his desk. When he opened the door, I saw that the shelves were lined with stuffed grocery bags, recycled from various area stores. Waste not, want not.
Levitt ran his finger along the top shelf, then the next, searching for just the right sack. On the third level, he found what he was looking for. An over-stuffed grocery bag from Schultz's Market.
'Ah, here it is.' Levitt set it on the desk.
I pointed at the closet. 'All personal effects?'
'Yes. Not everyone has a family member, or at least one who cares enough to claim them.' He shrugged.
'Lot of turnover, huh?' From Sarah, naturally.
Levitt
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