wearing dark colors. I can't get used to it. My Evvie, my Florida Parrot, a woman of many bright colors. She's in mourning and I don't know what to do to get her out of it.
"How are you feeling?" I ask.
She shrugs. She beelines to the stove and pours herself a cup of coffee.
"Want to do something today? Maybe a movie? I happened to notice, one of the local movies is giving out prizes at Wednesday matinees. Should I find out which theater?" Evvie keeps ignoring me. I press on. "Something you might want to review? People keep asking when they'll see another edition of your newsletter."
"Later. I don't know. I'll see."
"Listen, I need help. Give me some advice." Hoping I can get her interested in something, anything, I grab a cup, too, and sit next to her at my tiny dinette table.
The room is so undersized that just sitting down, we are nearly rubbing shoulders. When each of us first moved into our apartments, our description of the kitchens was that it was almost like living in a motor home. One person in here is comfortable. Two, we have to take turns moving and changing places. Three is a crowd and four's a mob scene.
"It's the new case. I'm trying to reach this woman who will not answer her phone. All I get is her machine. How do I make her talk to me? I've already learned she lives behind a locked gate. I know she won't open the door to a stranger."
Evvie, not terribly interested, tosses out, "When all else fails, try honesty. Leave her a message that explains what you want. And just keep phoning until she picks up."
Evvie glances at my last Sunday's crossword puzzle, which stays on my table until it's finished. She picks up my pen and fills in one of the clues. "Nine down, 'state of pure pleasure,' is 'elated.'"
Suddenly, the word for me is elated, too. Evvie's actually showing a bit of animation. I look over her shoulder and take the pen and fill in another. "That gives me my across word. Thanks. And you know, what you just said is a good idea. I'm going to try it. We can take turns badgering her."
For a moment she hesitates, and then she smiles. "Include a turkey sandwich and you're on."
Without having to get up, I swivel around and open the fridge and take out sandwich stuff. Evvie gets up, walks three steps to the stove, and puts up another pot of coffee. I hold my breath. Please don't let her change her mind.
I pick up the cordless phone and dial again. Naturally, it's Dr. Silverstone's machine. While making her sandwich, Evvie nods her head, encouraging me.
"Linda, my name is Gladdy Gold. I am a private investigator. Your parents hired me to find out why you won't attend their anniversary party. They seem very concerned. Please pick up so we can talk. I will keep calling until you do. All I want is an answer and then I'll stop pestering you. Please." I wait, but nothing happens. Finally I hang up.
When Evvie finishes eating her sandwich she presses the redial button. "Hello, Linda, this is Evvie Markowitz, Gladdy's partner. We're actually sisters. We're really very nice people, and part of our job is to help others solve their problems and be happy. Please pick up." She waits awhile, and then hangs up, too.
"Well done," I say. "But we're taking a big risk. This may really get her mad. She might just turn the machine off."
Evvie shrugs. "Maybe she will and maybe she won't."
Evvie, still sitting, digs in the fridge and finds last night's leftover peach pie. I am near tears of happiness. This is the first time she's shown any interest in eating. And I'm so glad I gave into gluttony and bought it. "A la mode?" I ask as I reach up over her to the freezer and whip out the vanilla ice cream.
She smiles. "You are so bad. Of course I want it."
I dial again. "Hi, Linda, this is the annoying Gladdy Gold again. I tried reading your book last night. I didn't understand a lot of it, but if we ever meet, I want to ask you--do your father's techniques really work? Isn't denial of an illness a cop-out? I'll hold,
"How are you feeling?" I ask.
She shrugs. She beelines to the stove and pours herself a cup of coffee.
"Want to do something today? Maybe a movie? I happened to notice, one of the local movies is giving out prizes at Wednesday matinees. Should I find out which theater?" Evvie keeps ignoring me. I press on. "Something you might want to review? People keep asking when they'll see another edition of your newsletter."
"Later. I don't know. I'll see."
"Listen, I need help. Give me some advice." Hoping I can get her interested in something, anything, I grab a cup, too, and sit next to her at my tiny dinette table.
The room is so undersized that just sitting down, we are nearly rubbing shoulders. When each of us first moved into our apartments, our description of the kitchens was that it was almost like living in a motor home. One person in here is comfortable. Two, we have to take turns moving and changing places. Three is a crowd and four's a mob scene.
"It's the new case. I'm trying to reach this woman who will not answer her phone. All I get is her machine. How do I make her talk to me? I've already learned she lives behind a locked gate. I know she won't open the door to a stranger."
Evvie, not terribly interested, tosses out, "When all else fails, try honesty. Leave her a message that explains what you want. And just keep phoning until she picks up."
Evvie glances at my last Sunday's crossword puzzle, which stays on my table until it's finished. She picks up my pen and fills in one of the clues. "Nine down, 'state of pure pleasure,' is 'elated.'"
Suddenly, the word for me is elated, too. Evvie's actually showing a bit of animation. I look over her shoulder and take the pen and fill in another. "That gives me my across word. Thanks. And you know, what you just said is a good idea. I'm going to try it. We can take turns badgering her."
For a moment she hesitates, and then she smiles. "Include a turkey sandwich and you're on."
Without having to get up, I swivel around and open the fridge and take out sandwich stuff. Evvie gets up, walks three steps to the stove, and puts up another pot of coffee. I hold my breath. Please don't let her change her mind.
I pick up the cordless phone and dial again. Naturally, it's Dr. Silverstone's machine. While making her sandwich, Evvie nods her head, encouraging me.
"Linda, my name is Gladdy Gold. I am a private investigator. Your parents hired me to find out why you won't attend their anniversary party. They seem very concerned. Please pick up so we can talk. I will keep calling until you do. All I want is an answer and then I'll stop pestering you. Please." I wait, but nothing happens. Finally I hang up.
When Evvie finishes eating her sandwich she presses the redial button. "Hello, Linda, this is Evvie Markowitz, Gladdy's partner. We're actually sisters. We're really very nice people, and part of our job is to help others solve their problems and be happy. Please pick up." She waits awhile, and then hangs up, too.
"Well done," I say. "But we're taking a big risk. This may really get her mad. She might just turn the machine off."
Evvie shrugs. "Maybe she will and maybe she won't."
Evvie, still sitting, digs in the fridge and finds last night's leftover peach pie. I am near tears of happiness. This is the first time she's shown any interest in eating. And I'm so glad I gave into gluttony and bought it. "A la mode?" I ask as I reach up over her to the freezer and whip out the vanilla ice cream.
She smiles. "You are so bad. Of course I want it."
I dial again. "Hi, Linda, this is the annoying Gladdy Gold again. I tried reading your book last night. I didn't understand a lot of it, but if we ever meet, I want to ask you--do your father's techniques really work? Isn't denial of an illness a cop-out? I'll hold,
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