Read Online Bingoed by Patricia Rockwell - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Patricia Rockwell
Tags: Humor, detective, cozy mystery, female sleuths, Amateur Sleuths, Mysteries, assisted living, elderly, seniors
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Essie.
“Then we need to ask Opal. She probably knows the second floor workers better than we do.”
“You’re right. I’m not going to bother her now, but we’ll ask her at supper.”
“But, Essie. I just don’t think it’s wise to do this. They put that security lock on Bob’s apartment for a reason. To keep people out—and that means you.”
“Marjorie, I’m trying to help Bob. They have that lock there to prevent theft. I’m not going to steal any of Bob’s prized possessions. I just want to look for something that might have upset him yesterday—upset him so much that he collapsed. You don’t really think that Violet or any of the aides or workers at Happy Haven would actually go to that extent to help Bob, do you?”
“No,” replied Marjorie, chewing on her small lower lip.
“Good,” Essie said, standing. “Now, I have to get to my room asap if I don’t want a major bladder event to happen right here in the family room. Need I say more?”
“No, actually, I’m in the same boat, Essie. I’ll see you at supper.” With that, the two women and their wheeled chargers maneuvered expertly out of the family room and back towards their own hallways and their own rooms. Essie arrived at her doorway and scooted into her bathroom just in time. Blessed relief, she thought. Hmmph! Field trip to the botanical gardens, forget it! It’s all I can do to get from the lobby to my own bathroom. What would I do if I had to find a toilet on the outdoor grounds of Reardon’s botanical gardens? It would be horrible—embarrassing and uncomfortable.
Sitting there in bliss, she looked up behind her at the shelving above her toilet. She couldn’t help but notice several boxes of products designed for such delicate situations. Her daughter Prudence kept bringing different brands of pads over for her to try. That’s why she had such a collection stacked up. There were thick ones and thin ones, short ones and long ones, scented ones and plain ones. There were pads that tucked and ones that didn’t. But it all boiled down to one thing. They were all diapers and she was not going to be caught dead wearing a diaper. Hell’s cowbells! she thought. The people who invented those things obviously didn’t use them. Who wanted to walk around all day with wet pants? Well, she wasn’t a baby and she didn’t plan on spending one single minute wearing a diaper. No, she’d get to her bathroom (or some bathroom) when nature called and that was all there was to it.
Luckily, now that she had her little wheeled walker, she could move like the wind. She remembered when she’d had a wheel-less walker years ago. It was much slower going. She loved her new, sleek, little red wheeled number. It was surely the Ferrari of walkers. She could go really fast in it—and at times—like now—she needed to do just that.
Finished with her task, Essie pulled up her comfy pants and trousers. After washing her hands, she headed out into her apartment with her trusty wheeled steed. She plopped herself down into her favorite armchair and—taking a cue from Fay—promptly fell asleep.
Chapter Nine
“Experience is simply the name we give our mistakes.”
—Oscar Wilde
“Residents!” sang out the intercom, prying Essie from her slumber. “Residents, don’t forget that after dinner tonight, our favorite ventriloquist Geoffrey George will be here with his pals Ducky and Doozy to perform for you in the lobby. You won’t want to miss the fun! Seven sharp. Also, don’t forget to sign up for the field trip to the botanical gardens at the front desk. Only three slots left. You won’t want to miss the beautiful roses in bloom. Also, anyone who might have seen Agnes Woolwhistle’s gold-handled cane, please report to the front desk.”
“Heavens to hollyhocks!” declared Essie, rousing from her nap. “Agnes Woolwhistle is always losing her cane. Someone ought to tie it around her neck.” Then, glancing at her
“Then we need to ask Opal. She probably knows the second floor workers better than we do.”
“You’re right. I’m not going to bother her now, but we’ll ask her at supper.”
“But, Essie. I just don’t think it’s wise to do this. They put that security lock on Bob’s apartment for a reason. To keep people out—and that means you.”
“Marjorie, I’m trying to help Bob. They have that lock there to prevent theft. I’m not going to steal any of Bob’s prized possessions. I just want to look for something that might have upset him yesterday—upset him so much that he collapsed. You don’t really think that Violet or any of the aides or workers at Happy Haven would actually go to that extent to help Bob, do you?”
“No,” replied Marjorie, chewing on her small lower lip.
“Good,” Essie said, standing. “Now, I have to get to my room asap if I don’t want a major bladder event to happen right here in the family room. Need I say more?”
“No, actually, I’m in the same boat, Essie. I’ll see you at supper.” With that, the two women and their wheeled chargers maneuvered expertly out of the family room and back towards their own hallways and their own rooms. Essie arrived at her doorway and scooted into her bathroom just in time. Blessed relief, she thought. Hmmph! Field trip to the botanical gardens, forget it! It’s all I can do to get from the lobby to my own bathroom. What would I do if I had to find a toilet on the outdoor grounds of Reardon’s botanical gardens? It would be horrible—embarrassing and uncomfortable.
Sitting there in bliss, she looked up behind her at the shelving above her toilet. She couldn’t help but notice several boxes of products designed for such delicate situations. Her daughter Prudence kept bringing different brands of pads over for her to try. That’s why she had such a collection stacked up. There were thick ones and thin ones, short ones and long ones, scented ones and plain ones. There were pads that tucked and ones that didn’t. But it all boiled down to one thing. They were all diapers and she was not going to be caught dead wearing a diaper. Hell’s cowbells! she thought. The people who invented those things obviously didn’t use them. Who wanted to walk around all day with wet pants? Well, she wasn’t a baby and she didn’t plan on spending one single minute wearing a diaper. No, she’d get to her bathroom (or some bathroom) when nature called and that was all there was to it.
Luckily, now that she had her little wheeled walker, she could move like the wind. She remembered when she’d had a wheel-less walker years ago. It was much slower going. She loved her new, sleek, little red wheeled number. It was surely the Ferrari of walkers. She could go really fast in it—and at times—like now—she needed to do just that.
Finished with her task, Essie pulled up her comfy pants and trousers. After washing her hands, she headed out into her apartment with her trusty wheeled steed. She plopped herself down into her favorite armchair and—taking a cue from Fay—promptly fell asleep.
Chapter Nine
“Experience is simply the name we give our mistakes.”
—Oscar Wilde
“Residents!” sang out the intercom, prying Essie from her slumber. “Residents, don’t forget that after dinner tonight, our favorite ventriloquist Geoffrey George will be here with his pals Ducky and Doozy to perform for you in the lobby. You won’t want to miss the fun! Seven sharp. Also, don’t forget to sign up for the field trip to the botanical gardens at the front desk. Only three slots left. You won’t want to miss the beautiful roses in bloom. Also, anyone who might have seen Agnes Woolwhistle’s gold-handled cane, please report to the front desk.”
“Heavens to hollyhocks!” declared Essie, rousing from her nap. “Agnes Woolwhistle is always losing her cane. Someone ought to tie it around her neck.” Then, glancing at her
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