New Phase 3: The Arrangement

Valley Inn

Sherman Oaks, California

March 27, 2010

1:23 PM

“Anyway…” Sharon going on “...I was becoming so lonely living in that small house that has so many memories, I began to toy with the idea of moving into one of those ‘senior citizens retirement apartments’. And that’s why I called you a couple of months ago, but I ‘really’ can’t see myself spending what’s left of my life in such a standardised, commercialised environment, and…” taking a long drink of martini, then looking from Mitchell to Marsha “...I miss the warmth of not having a man in my life.”

Once again, a glance passing between Marsha and Mitchell silently saying…

‘This is getting better all the time’.

The waiter returning with pad in hand.

“Oh, yes.” Looking at the menu. “I’ll have the Caesar salad with grilled chicken…” near draining her glass “...and another of these.”

“And, I’ll…” Marsha said “...have the ‘Kitchen Chopped Salad with Grilled Salmon’.”

“Me…?” Still studying the menu. “Ill have the ‘Prime Rib French Dip Sandwich’.” Figuring I’ll probably be the one driving home, passed on a second martini.

“So…” Marsha asked “... what do you plan on doing?”

“I ‘really’ hate leaving West Valley, where I know everyplace but…” sighing “...a friend told me about one of those ‘retirement’ places in ‘Brentwood’, so I called and, ‘wow’! Number one they want twenty-five hundred a month and they’ve a years waiting list, so I called another retirement place in Pasadena, but they’re expensive and booked up also, but I left my name in case they’ve a cancellation.”

Sharon’s second martini placed before her…

Carefully lifting the brimming glass to her moth, taking a sip and, apparently well able to hold old her liquor— at least so far.

I wouldn’t have the nerve to ask, but Marsha…

No sarcasm, a question simply asked by one old lady to another old lady. “And about finding a man to help keep you warm?”

The glass still at Sharon’s lips, taking another sip. “Guess…” sadly stated “... there'll be plenty of horny old guys wherever I end up.”

Licking a bit of salt from the rim of her glass. “Maybe we can help you with ‘the old man department’.”

Being a guy, and being me, I know that wrong words sometimes… ‘often’ come to mind then to mouth before I can stop them, and Marsha seemed to be doing pretty good, so I said nothing — so far.

Buttering the second half of the dinner roll, “How’s that? ‘Helping me with the old man department’?”

“Mitchie has been living in Westlake…”

“On the lakeside.”

Looking at me, Marsha went on. “He’s been living in Westlake for better than twenty-four years and his neighbour Milt…?

“Abrams.”

“Milt and Mitch have been best friends all that time…” sipping at her margarita “...and Milt’s wife passed away about twenty-years ago and now that Mitch and I are back together…”

“ ‘Back together’?” Intrigued, Sharon questioned. “That’s part of what you said is a ‘long story’?”

“Yes.”

The waiter returned holding a large tray containing our three lunches that he put onto a folding side table… Then placed the meals along with accompanying side dishes before each of the three.

Possibly due to being into her second martini, taking on a bit of a blush, becoming even more adorable… “So?” Sharon asked once the waiter had departed. “What’s with this guy…?”

“Milt.” I said. “First off Milt’s a really good guy that’s getting a bit lonely because… After all how far can a great friendship…” feeling my martini also “...with his next door neighbour go?”

Spearing a bit of salmon, placing it into her mouth, chewing, swallowing and giggling. “unless these two guys ‘really’ like each other…” salt clinging to her lips, drinking directly from the bell shaped glass “...know what I mean?”

“Oh, ‘please’…” biting into my prime rib sandwich “I like Milt, but not ‘that’ much and certainly not ‘that way’!”

Spearing a piece of grilled chicken along with a bit of lettuce and eating it. “So? Tell me already. What’s with your friend…” giggling “...that you like, but not ‘that’ much. That Milt guy, that I get the feeling you're trying to ‘fix me up with’.”

“Him and Mitch have been friends…”

“And neighbours for twenty-four years, doing ‘everything’ together.”

Finishing his martini. “Not ‘everything’ together!” Wanting another. “Think you could drive home, Marcie?”

“Not if I have another one of these.” Licking a couple grains of salt from her lips.

Eating the tender grilled chicken with a bit of tomato. “So what’s he look like, this ‘Milt’ that you want to fix me up with?”

“He’s a good looking guy.” Marsha said, looking to her husband for confirmation.

“ ‘Yeah’. Milt’s about my height…”

“Maybe a bit taller.” Marsha said.

We’re pretty much about the same…” patting my stomach.

“Ehhh…” Moving her hand in a ‘maybe’ side to side motion.

Going along with their old time gag. “But I’ve much better hair.”

“That’s true !”

Taking a small sip, rationing what’s left of her second martini. How old is he?”

“Two years older than me…” I said “...seventy-eight.”

“From my viewpoint… From this old ladies viewpoint, Milt Abrams is a good looking older man.”

Becoming drunkenly interested. One year older than me, Sharon thought. “And if I say ‘yes’, what then? What If your best friend Milt and I don’t like each other?”

“You say ‘goodbye’ and that’s it.” I said.

“And if we really ‘hit it off, and do like each other?”

“Seeing you, and knowing Milt, I have no doubt about him liking you.”

“What do we do then? Hop into the sack?”

“I wouldn’t say immediately, but you and Milt are adults, after all.”

Thinking, What the hell. Finishing the last of the martini “Yeah! Old and maybe foolish adults.”

“ Sharon, look. Mitchell and me are into our mid -seventies, too, and we love each other and got married again after not seeing or speaking to each other for twenty-four years. Life is too fucking short..”

“Especially now at our age.” I said.

“...to not take a chance and to do something you wouldn’t have done forty years ago. Like Mitch said, ‘if you and Milt don’t care for each other...Well, ‘goodbye’!”

“But…” I said “... if for some, ‘God willing’, reason, you and Milt really ‘hit it off’…”

“You …” Marsha said “...can stop searching for one of those,‘institutionalised senior citizens retirement apartment’.”

“Because you’ll have that warm male body you say you want.” And… I though ...Milt won’t feel like a ‘third wheel.

Turning the stem of the empty martini glass, deciding. “Okay. When do you want to do this?”

“You name it. Whenever you’re ready.”

Eating the last of the grilled chicken. “Hell, Marsha. So long as we’ ‘are’ going to do it, one day for me is pretty much like any another, and I’m actually getting a little anxious to meet this ‘warm male body’.” Sensing a near forgotten itch deep within her vagina. “But what about Milt? Does he even know you two are cooking this up?”

“No. But knowing Milt, he’s always anxious to meet a pretty lady. And when he sees you…”

“An old broad.”

“ ‘Cut that out’!” Marsha said sternly. “You are one beautiful lady and ‘don’t’ you forget it’! And if Milt doesn’t see that…”

“Oh…” I added “...he will!”

The two martinis. Sharon’s need for intimacy. Trusting the judgement of Mitchell and Marsha...

“So…” truly becoming anxious “...when do I meet my ‘blind date’?”

“ Today’s Saturday the twenty-seventh. You want to shoot for…” anxious to see how this works out “... Hell! Tomorrow too soon for you Shelly?”

“Like I said, one day is pretty much the same as another.”

“I think we’re going to be able to change that.”

Finishing the last of my prime rib sandwich. “You okay on a small boat?”

“Never had a problem before. Why?”

“Milt and I both have electric party boats, but his is a couple of years newer that has a grill, so we can figure dinner a couple of was that we’ll leave up to you.”

“What ways?”

We can BBQ on the boat and eat on the boat, or we can put over to ‘The Landing’ and have dinner there.”

“Think I’d like to eat on the boat.”

“Glad you said that.” I said “By the way, Milt makes a g a fantastic martini.”

“How a ‘fantastic martini?” Marsha said. “Two, three ounces of gin and a couple drops of vermouth and ‘there you go’: a “fantastic martini’.”

“Don’t forget that shaking or stirring thing of James Bond’s.”

“Nah, Sherry. Milt makes his marines in and old aluminium coffee pot, so they’re always stirred... or shaken.”

“Sounds like my kind’a guy. Just remembered, I don’t drive, so someone will have to pick me up and take me home.”

“I like surprises, so think we’ll get your blind date to do that.” Marsha said. “What time should he be there?”

“Six would be good.”

“It gets cool on the lake after the sun goes down…” I said “...so best you bring a jacket.”

2:28 PM

Motioning for, and paying the bill.

Standing, preparing to leave…

Cupping Sharon’s ear, “Show some cleavage,” Marsha whispered.

“I intend to.” Sharon whispered back.

2:35 PM

Minutes from home. “Think we ought to stop and pick up the steaks.”

“We need some groceries anyway — a ‘lot’ of groceries, so might as well do it.”

“You used to make great potato salad! ‘Always’ loved it! Remember how to make it?”

“Mitchie…” poking him with her elbow “...some things a lady ‘never’ forgets.” Thinking a moment. “But I think we can use some potatoes.”

“Think you could make that cold pea salad you used to make?”

Pulling into the markets parking lot. “Of course!”

“Between your potato and pea salads, what else could a guy ask for?”

Grabbing a shopping cart before entering the store. “I suppose one of those steaks would help.”

Picking up an ‘Iceberg’ lettuce as Mitchell choose a bunch of large radishes.

Then up and down, from aisle to aisle.

“Oh, yeah! Lets not forget that…?”

“That ‘what’? I asked.
“That gin she likes.”

Before leaving the store with a near top-heavy loaded shopping basket, a bottle of ‘Tanqueray’ gin had been added.

3:30 PM

After helping carry the last of the grocery bags in. Sitting at the desk...

“Milt!”

“Yeah, Mitch?”

“Hope you’re not busy tomorrow night.”

“Why’s that?”

“Marsha and me made a date for you.”

“Who with?”

“An old friend of hers.”

“How much of an ‘old’ friend?”

“Seventy-seven.”
“ ‘seventy-seven’! Jesus!”

“Younger than you!”

“Yeah? Well ‘everyone’s’ younger than me.”

“Nice lady. You’ll like her.”

“Ugly as dog shit, huh!”

“Why’d you say that?”

“You saying ‘nice lady’ tells me that’s all she’s got going for her. ‘A nice lady’!”

“Anyway, she asked for an evening cruse so we're taking your boat out ‘cause you’ve the grill.”

“You buy all the stuff?”

“Yeah, Marsha and me stopped on the way home and got everything.”

“Before Marsha came along, we’ve been blowing through my gin pretty good; or is this ‘nice lady’…” said fallaciously “... a wine drinker?”

“No, Sharon likes her martinis.”

“Well, so then there’s one good thing going for her.”

“Yeah. We picked up a bottle of ‘Tanqueray’, ‘cause she likes Tanqueray.”

“ ‘ Tanqueray’? So we’ll be going classy tomorrow?”

“I told her that you mix the martinis in an old aluminium coffee pot and serve ‘em in little old coffee mugs. So how classy can we be?”

“Least ways she ain’t a wine drinker, ‘cause then we got to worry about what colour to have aboard.”

“ ‘Course we could have a couple bottles aboard.”

“Wine drinkers are a pain in the ass.”
“Yeah. Then they want those fancy wine glasses.”

“Coffee cup’s not good enough for ‘em.”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, yeah, one more thing, Sharon doesn’t drive, so I guess it’ll be up to her date to pick her up.”

Playfully begrudgingly. “Okay. So where’s this Sharon live?”

“Encino.”

“Shit! All the way across the valley to Encino?”

“It’s not ‘all the way’ across the valley, it’s only half way across the valley.”

“Hope this old broad’s worth it!”

Watching Marsha stack some canned goods in the pantry, spoken barely above a whisper. “Oh, you’d be surprised.”

“What?”

“Milt, let me say this: Sharon is a nice lady and I don’t think you’ll be disappointed.”

Sighing, “There you go again with that ‘nice lady’ thing.”

“You’d rather she not be a ‘nice lady’?”

“Well, yeah. Least ways that way I don’t have to be such a nice guy.”

“You’re always a nice guy, Milt.”

“Bullshit! What time am I supposed to pick her up?”

“Six.”

“Got me right in traffic, huh?”

Looking at Marsha, motioning her to come to sit on his lap. “But only halfway through the valley.”

“Then there’s the other halfway back.”

“Give you time to get acquainted with Sharon.”

“Schmuck!”

This back and forth between the two friends, said ‘somewhat’ in jest.

“I’ll give you her address when I see you.”

“Okay.”

“Later, pal.”

Next: New Phase 4: Milt & Sherry