The 50-Plus Condo Collection

Chapter 4

“What? You said cats?” Rachel asked of the caller on the phone. “How can cats be noisy?”

Rachel listened to the explanation of how leaping cats can cause noise. Sometimes loud noises, it turned out, as if something had fallen. This wasn’t the first time she had received complaints about the pets Eneida had in her apartment. As an animal activist and shelter owner, Eneida had a tendency to bring home animals. Sometimes that exceeded the acceptable number in the condo rules. And sometimes the cats didn’t play nicely, or quietly.

“I’ll contact her today,” Rachel said. “I’m sure the situation will improve, Mrs. Donnelly.” This was not the morning she would have chosen to deal with this issue, because she felt hot and a touch dizzy when she stood. She knew that Eneida was never receptive when it came to criticism regarding her animals. But Rachel had to inform her of yet another complaint. She caught Eneida by cell phone on her lunch break, purchasing pet food on sale.

“That old bat has nothing better to do than complain,” Eneida said. “What she ought to do is get herself a cat. That would keep her busy and out of my hair.”

“How many cats do you have up there right now?” Rachel asked.

“Umm, four…”

Rachel knew that meant she probably had eight.

“Get the number back down to four, Eneida. Do it today,” Rachel said. “And how many dogs do you have?”

“Only one.”

That probably was the truth. Dogs were harder to conceal than cats. Rachel knew of the Retriever-Poodle mix. He was a big boy, complete with yellow fur that shed in big clumps everywhere. The dog was older, didn’t bark and loved everyone. The kind of dog that a burglar would be greeted by with slobbery kisses. He wasn’t the problem.

“Okay, so please take care of your cat situation, Eneida.”

“Okay.”

Rachel hung up the office phone and rolled her eyes. She hadn’t anticipated so much drama when she agreed to manage the condo. Everyone seems to be a character, with few exceptions, Rachel thought.

Everyone seems to be a character, with few exceptions,Then Ruby walked into the office.

The old lady placed her fists on either side of the red shorts she wore. With obvious annoyance, she pulled a non-revealing white top downward over her bony hips. Rachel was surprised to see Ruby dressed in ordinary clothes instead of her usual bathing suit.

“What’s wrong?” Rachel asked.

“It’s Penelope Hardwood again!”

“Now what’s she done?” Rachel didn’t believe Penelope had actually done anything wrong. Even before the woman opened her mouth, Rachel was convinced it was all Ruby, not Penelope, who was the problem.

“She’s out there telling everyone that I’m an embarrassment! Me?”

“Now, Ruby, I’m sure…”

“That old bat dresses like Nanook of the North in ninety degree temperatures, and I’m the embarrassment? Really!” After speaking, she assumed an indignant pose, her eyes flashing.

I’m“What is it with you two? Why can’t you just try to get along with each other?” Rachel said. “Penelope is a very nice lady, sweet, retiring. She wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

Ruby’s eyebrows rose.“You’re going to take her side again, aren’t you?”

“It’s not a matter of sides, it’s…”

“You always take her side, never mine.” Ruby turned to leave. “She’s a busybody and gossip. I guess you like those types.”

Ruby stomped from the office, slamming the door behind her.

Rachel rolled her eyes for the second time.

The next person to enter the office was predictable.

“Hi, Penelope,” Rachel said, pronouncing every syllable slowly.

Ruby had been right in her description of the old woman. There she stood, a gray haired, slightly plump woman of advanced years, dressed in a plain housedress and one of her many heavy sweaters.

“Good afternoon, dear. I wanted to tell you about Alfred, you know Alfred…”

“Yes, of course, Alfred lives on the eighth floor.”

“Well, he’s not feeling too good,” Penelope said. “I saw him weaving in the walkway and asked if he was okay. He said he was and went on his way, but I don’t believe he was telling the truth.”

Alfred Thorn was a very quiet man with barely any hair on his head. He usually wore a light- weight jacket, which gave him a formal appearance, at least for Florida. Given his proper appearance and manner, Rachel suspected Penelope was smitten with him.

“Oh, yes, Alfred…” Rachel started to say, but was interrupted. It seemed to be her day for interruptions.

“Of course, if Ruby hadn’t been flaunting herself at him in the first place, the whole situation may never have happened. I suppose it’s equally her fault,” Penelope said.

“Flaunting? Oh dear.” Rachel held her head between her hands as her elbows rested on the desk in front of her. “Ruby walks around like a mature former model. She wasn’t flaunting herself at Alfred. Have you ever been to a fashion show, Penelope?”

“No.”

“You might want to take one in sometime so you can observe how a professional model walks. It’s the same way Ruby moves her body from one end of a room to another,” Rachel said, looking up at the old lady. “She’s not flaunting, she’s gliding.”

“I call that slinking. And it’s unseemly behavior,” Penelope insisted.

“In your eyes,” Rachel said, trying to be patient with the woman. “Only yours. Everyone else thinks it’s kind of cute for an old lady. But now Ruby thinks you’re gossiping about her.”

“I do not gossip. Never!” the woman said, raising her chin and crossing her arms over her chest.

“Then go apologize to her. Tell her you weren’t gossiping behind her back.”

Silence followed.

“Well?”

She released her arms. “Okay, to please you, I’ll do it.”

“Don’t please me, please Ruby.”

Penelope let out a deep sigh. “Okay.” She turned toward the door. “But if she’d just not sway so much, maybe Alfred wouldn’t…”

“Penelope!” Rachel was convinced the old lady was jealous of Ruby. And she needed to get over it.

“Okay, all right. I’ll apologize. Good day.” She left the office, gently closing the door.

I’m supervising kindergarteners. Old kindergarteners!

I’m supervising kindergarteners. Old kindergarteners!“And how was your day?” Rachel asked as she ladled cauliflower cheddar soup into two bowls.

“Nothing special. Do you want me to get the bread out?” Joe asked, walking behind her into the narrow kitchen.

“If you want some, I don’t.”

Joe gathered the bread and margarine from the fridge and took both to the table in the dining room. Rachel carefully brought the two bowls of soup to the table, then returned to the kitchen for her iced tea.

“Did you finish with that sink issue?” she asked as she sat down with her drink, taking a sip, then adding copious amounts of sugar to the tea.

“Yeah. Alfred seems happy now.” Joe smelled his soup before he took a noisy slurp, then made a face when he found it was too hot. “He’s a character.”

“Only him? The whole place is full of characters.”

“Alfred’s a nice man.”

“Yes. I think Penelope is smitten with him.”

“Really? Senior romance.”

“Penelope told me today she thought he was ill. How did he seem to you?” Rachel stirred the soup around to cool it before tasting it.

“Okay, I guess. He barely got out of his chair,” Joe said. “The only thing wrong with him is he needs some exercise.”

Rachel grinned. “Eneida has too many cats again. I had another complaint today about the noise her menagerie was making.” She blew on a spoonful of soup.

“I’ll bet it stinks up there.” Joe shook out a slice of bread from the wrapper and pulled off the lid to the margarine.

“I shudder to think. I haven’t been in her place in a long time. We always meet at the clubhouse. Or here.” Rachel looked at her husband with a question in her eyes.

“What?” Joe stopped the movement of his spoon half way up to his mouth, returning her look.

“I don’t know. I just had a funny feeling.”

“She hasn’t had any maintenance problems, so I can’t go prowling around to see the condition of the unit.”

“I know. Don’t worry about it. Hopefully she’ll return a few cats to the shelter and peace will reign,” she said, spooning soup into her mouth.

Joe slurped his soup again and Rachel shook her head in response. That was such an annoying habit of his.

“How did Loretta’s place look when you were up there?”

“Oh, very clean, neat. It was perfect.”

“She has help come in to clean. Speaking of which, I wonder how the cleanup is going with the feuding Rogers?” Rachel put her spoon down at that thought and picked up the fan that was conveniently lying on the table. She began to vigorously move air toward her face. “You wouldn’t have believed the mess up there! Broken glass everywhere and gouges in the walls. Blood stains, too. And it stunk.”

it “I don’t like Marc. I don’t trust him.” Joe folded his bread in half before taking a bite.

“Me either. He’s mean. And I don’t know what to say about Lola.” Rachel continued to fan herself.

“How about that she’s stupid?”

“You got that right. I suspect she’s an equal party to the fighting. Marc looked beat up, too. She might egg him on for an excuse to land a few punches to his face. Who knows?”

Joe shot his wife an annoyed look. "Why are you fanning yourself at the dinner table?"

"I"m hot. I shouldn"t be eating soup. And it seems I have an issue with being overly warm lately." Rachel left it at that. Let him put two and two together. She was fifty-two.

"Hot flashes?"

"Yes," she reluctantly admitted. “It’s okay, I’ll just drink more tea.”

“Humph. I’ll try to be around the Rogers apartment tomorrow to see if I can catch any signs of cleanup,” Joe said, changing to a more comfortable subject.

“Good idea. The Morgans would be horrified if they saw their apartment in that condition.” Rachel put down the fan and picked up her spoon again. "I might have to inform them of the mess if that crazy couple doesn"t straighten out."

A burst of thunder suddenly rocked the table.

“Here we go again,” Joe said. “Right on time.”

“I’ll shut the computer down,” Rachel said, rising from her chair. She walked down the hallway to the second bedroom where her makeshift office was located. Most every evening a storm rolled through during hurricane season, right at this time. It never ceased to amaze Rachel how punctual the weather could be.