Sweet Nothings

Darla slumped in her armchair, trying to regroup. The thirty-minute drive from the airport to her sister Trudy’s house had terrified her more than her seven-hour transatlantic flight. Her theory was that the petite Trudy made up for what she lacked in inches with aggression, especially when driving. Trudy looked concerned as she handed Darla a glass of wine.

“Are you okay? You look kind of peaky.”

“Jet lag. It might be nine in the evening here, but my body thinks it’s four in the morning. Anyway, fill me in on what’s going on with Dad. Just don’t expect any coherent thoughts until I’ve had some sleep. How did he end up in the hospital and how’s he doing?”

“He’s in stable condition. As to how he got there, I must back up. You know he sold the family home and moved?”

“He told me after the fact. It surprised me.”

“He's in a retirement community for gracious senior living, to quote the brochure. It has apartments and cottages for independent living, all the way to a nursing home for those who are waiting for God. A very elegant place, as it should be for what it costs. More wine?”

Darla, feeling pleasantly woozy, shrugged.

“Why not?”

“There’s a ratio of about five women to every man there. Dad’s still a good-looking dude. He has all his faculties and his own teeth. It wasn't long before he acquired a coterie of admiring ladies. I gather some of the other male residents don’t appreciate that.”

Darla shook her head.

“Oh, boy. Some things never change, as both your mother and my mother would attest. But the hospital?”

“I’m coming to that. He’s not been managing his diabetes well. One of his lady friends went to visit and found him passed out on the floor. Good thing she did, because his blood sugar was through the roof. He’s doing better now, but if he doesn't get his act together he's in for trouble.”

Darla yawned.

“Sorry, but I’m fading fast here.”

“You must be exhausted. Your room’s this way. We’ll visit him tomorrow,” said Trudy.

When they arrived at the hospital next morning, they found their father sitting up in a chair morosely surveying his breakfast. His face lit up as he saw them.

“Well, well, my two beautiful ladies, including the prodigal daughter. My heart is full,” he said, beaming. “Darla, how is Paris? I remember my honeymoon there like yesterday. Give me a hug, both of you.”

Darla laughed. He was indeed a handsome man, even in a hospital gown and robe. His silver hair was still thick and lustrous and his eyes a vivid blue.

“Which honeymoon, Dad? You’ve had several.”

“I lost count. Sit down, girls.”

He glanced around, leaned forward and whispered.

“Look at that slop they’re feeding me. Could you bring me something decent?”

“No way, Dad,” Trudy said. “How did your sugar get so high in the first place? I thought they only served healthy food at that place. Have your girlfriends been bringing you sweets?”

“Oh, you know, every now and then. It’s not my fault if they feel sorry for an old man and want to feed me up.”

“Dad, you’re incorrigible. The doctor said you have to talk to the dietician before they discharge you. She's coming today,” Trudy said with a sigh.

He pulled a face.

"I hope she's good looking."

“We’ll go by your place and pick up some clothes,” she said. “See you later. Now finish your oatmeal.”

Darla laughed at his expression.

“Behave yourself, Dad, unless you want to end up here again.”

After a short drive they arrived at the senior living community. The security guard at the entrance gates waved at Trudy.

“They know me by now,” she said, returning the greeting.

Darla looked around, impressed by the beautifully manicured grounds. They parked in front of a row of cottages.

“Very nice,” she said, as Trudy unlocked the door.

“It’s not bad. Do you want to make us a cup of coffee while I find some clothes for him?”

Darla was rummaging around in the kitchen when she heard footsteps behind her.

“Hey, Tru, where are the coffee filters?”

“My dear, you’ll find them in that cupboard,” said an unfamiliar voice.

Darla whirled around, startled. A sturdy lady with a mop of grey curls was standing in the kitchen, holding a carrier bag.

“I’m Gladys,” she said, holding out her hand. Her nails were manicured, and she wore several diamond rings.

“I'm Darla,” said Darla, bemused. "Where did you come from?"

“You must be his daughter,” she said, smiling sweetly. “Don… I hope you don’t mind me calling him that…gave me a key. In case of emergency, of course. I think being in the hospital is an emergency, don’t you?”

“Uh, er, yes, well, I suppose it is,” said Darla.

Trudy entered at that moment and stopped in her tracks.

“Trudy, this is Gladys,” said Darla. “Gladys, my sister Trudy. Would you like some coffee?”

“Coffee would be nice,” said Gladys, sitting down at the kitchen counter. “I brought him something.”

She took a large box of chocolates out of her bag and set it down.

“He does love his little treat in the evening when we watch television.”

Trudy and Darla exchanged glances.

“About that…” Darla began, just as the front door opened.

“What is going on?” said Trudy, as another elderly lady, with stylishly bobbed silver hair, wearing a colorful velour jogging suit, appeared at the kitchen door.

“Who are you and how did you get in?” said Darla.

“I’m Vivienne. Don gave me a key. I saw the cars and thought he might be home. I just thought I’d pop over and see if he needed anything. Oh, and I brought him this.”

She plonked a large cake box on the counter and glared at Gladys, who returned a frosty stare.

“Would you like some coffee?” Darla said.

“Yes, I would, thank you,” Vivienne said.

Everyone jumped as there was a rapping at the window.

“Yoohoo, Donny! Are you there? It’s me, Maggie.”

Gladys and Vivienne stared with narrowed eyes as the back door opened and a chubby little woman with rosy cheeks bounded in and halted in surprise.

“Oh, my goodness, I didn’t mean to intrude. I thought Donny had come home from the hospital. I made some of those double chocolate chip brownies he loves.”

She brandished a large Tupperware container.

“Don’t tell me…he gave you a key?” said Darla.

Maggie looked affronted.

“Of course. I wouldn’t break and enter.”

Trudy drew herself up.

“Ladies, I have to say…”

She broke off abruptly as Darla shook her head.

“Ladies. Let’s all go into the sitting room, and I’ll bring the coffee.”

Eyeing each other suspiciously, the ladies trooped off to the sitting room.

“What are you doing?” hissed Trudy as Darla handed her a tray of mugs.

Darla grinned.

“Here. Take the coffee pot and pour.”

She followed a few moments later with a platter of brownies, cake and chocolates. When everyone had been served, she cleared her throat.

“Ladies, this is awkward. Trudy and I love our father very much. He's a good man, but he has a couple of weaknesses. Ladies and sweets. His diabetes is out of control because of the sweets. His attraction to the ladies has left a trail of ex-wives and broken hearts. I don't think the leopard is going to change his spots at this age."

There was a long silence as the ladies considered this. Gladys suddenly burst out laughing.

“Look at us. We're old enough to have known better. Falling for that old Casanova. He's had us clucking over him like a bunch of hens. Giving each of us a key indeed. I propose we take excellent care of him. Kale salad three times a week. I’ll make the first batch.”

Vivienne smiled mischievously.

“We can show up to walk with him every morning.”

“Boiled chicken and low-fat cottage cheese,” said Maggie, giggling.

"Vegan apple cake. My granddaughter gave me the recipe," said Gladys.

Vivienne turned to Darla and Trudy and winked.

"I have a feeling your father's going to be following doctor's orders from now on."

Two weeks later, Darla called Trudy from Paris.

“Hi, there, Tru. How’s Dad?”

Trudy guffawed.

“Very perplexed. He can’t understand why his lady friends have turned into health freaks, as he calls them. Those three girls have become good buddies."

Darla chuckled.

"That must be the first time in his life that he hasn't had at least one woman hanging on his every word and pandering to his every whim."

"I know. It's great," said Trudy. " They keep an eagle eye on his diet and have him walking every day. Despite his grumbling, he likes bragging about his improved blood sugar numbers. The girls are going on a casino trip together next week and I'll be checking on him. That means he's out of the frying pan into the fire in his opinion. They've already handed me his list of menus and activities for the week."

“When the girls return from the trip, I’m sending you a ticket to Paris,” said Darla. “You and I are going out on the town. You’ve earned it.”