Untitled by Unknown Author Read Free Book Online

Irving Weiss, standing in the shade outside Irving's apartment, three doors down from where my car is parked.
        Near them is Irving's wife, Millie, now in her third year of Alzheimer's, propped up in her wheelchair. Yolie—really Yolanda—the adorable young woman who is caring for Millie, croons Spanish lullabies softly in her ear, hoping to reach her somehow. Millie is going through a bad patch these days.
        Sol wiggles his fingers playfully at Evvie. Evvie, who can't stand him, doesn't wiggle back.
        Irving is small and thin, sweet and gentle. Sol is bulky and coarse and as sensitive as a slab of meat from his old butcher shop. The guys have been pals since they moved down here twenty years ago. Sol's wife, Clara, died three years ago.
        The guys have the horse racing form open while they plot their daily bets.
        We walk over to greet Millie, who no longer recognizes us. It breaks our hearts to see what has happened to our dear friend.
        Sol winks. "Hello, you dreamboat," he says to Evvie, trying to sound suave. He flirts, but he does it poorly.
        "Yeah, right, and why are you wearing two different color socks?" says Evvie, who can always find new ways to put him down.
        Sol changes the subject quickly. "So, what're the five luscious lady P.I.'s up to these days?"
        "None of your business," Evvie says unkindly.
        "How is she doing?" I ask Irving. I always ask and always get the same answer.
        "OK," he says. Irving is a man of very few words. And we know Millie is not OK; she never will be again. We know how much it takes out of him, always worrying about her, but he will never complain. Bless his heart.
        We each give Millie a kiss, say buenos días to Yolie, and go back to the car.
        Evvie punches my arm, laughing. "Don't you love the way Sol dresses?"
        "Uh-huh, the pink flamingo shirt really works well with the blue shorts with little crawling alligators."
        "And the mismatched socks look divine with the black wing-tip shoes." Then Evvie relents. "I do feel sorry for him. He seems so lonely under all that bad taste."
        Now the girls arrive with their books and dump them into my trunk, as well. We have to wait a few moments for Sophie to finish the last few pages of one of her novels. Then, done, she sighs, closes the book, and tosses it in the trunk with the others. "That was so satisfying," she says.
        Bella looks at her, puzzled. "Since when do you read the last page? You always read that first. So you know how it's going to end."
        Ida sneers at her. "I never heard of anyone who reads the last page of a book first. Only you."
        "What's so hard to understand? What if I die before the book ends? Then I'll never know what happened."
        Ida throws up her hands, showing her disgust. "I give up. You're hopeless."
        The books delivered, they take off for their mah-jongg game. Evvie leaves, as well, to polish her movie review. None of them ever wants to go to the library with me. And that's just fine. I enjoy this time on my own.
        I am about to get into the car when Hy Binder sidles up and pokes his face next to mine.
        "Hey, didja hear this one?" He never pauses to take a breath, so there's no stopping him. "How can a guy tell if his wife is dead?"
        "I really don't need to know, Hy," I say.
        "The sex is the same but the dishes pile up!" He guffaws.
        Lola, standing off to one side, carrying her dry cleaning, calls out to him. "Tell her already."
        "Yeah, didja hear? Peeping Tom in Phase Five!"
        At the expression of surprise on my face, Hy grins. "Gotcha!"

    My book bags are dragging my shoulders down as I lug them to the entrance of the Lauderdale Lakes library, one of my favorite places. It is a small brick building in a residential section. This branch is very bright and inviting. It is my weekly job to return all our finished