Page 14 of Fluffed and Folded

“Yes, Mrs. Mankowitz?”

“Hello,” she said, beaming.

“Hello,” he returned, also smiling. “How are you?”

“I can’t complain,” she returned, which was heartily untrue. She had been knocked down by a mugger and sustained a broken hip. The hip hadn’t healed well, confining her to the assistance facility until they tried to get her back on her feet, quite literally. The longer she stayed, the less likely she would ever go home, and yet every time he saw her she smiled, pain or no pain.

“Now, I’ve been thinking,” she continued, reaching out her fingers to latch on to his arm.

“Yes?”

“The word around here is that you recently had your heart broken by some girl.”

“Oh,” he drawled, trying to calculate the odds that they were talking about Josie, and also who had leaked that information. There were probably too many leakers to track, however. The facilities tended to be a gossip fest. “I didn’t, actually. We’re still friends, it just didn’t work out.”

“There’s no shame in it. I remember when a girl broke up with my son. He cried like a baby and started wetting the bed again.”

“Oh, I…” Eli glanced around, dearly hoping no one was nearby to overhear and start new rumors. It could seriously put a cramp in his managerial style if people believed he had to use rubber sheets.

“Anyway, I have the perfect girl for you.” She beamed, her face going radiant with delight.

“Oh?” he said, trying hard to feign enthusiasm. Was a fix up worse than a computer-assisted blind date? Somehow, yes.

“She’s just like you—sweet and cute as a button.”

“Oh,” Eli said, still stalling. One thing he’d learned from working with the elderly was that they had different ideas of what constituted “cute.” On the other hand, she’d called him cute, so how far could he extend his skepticism before he insulted himself? Somehow she’d backed him into a conundrum of cuteness. And, really, could her date be worse than the ones he’d already had?

“Sure,” he heard himself agree. Probably nothing would come of it anyway. He’d move on and she would forget; out of sight, out of mind.

“Goody. Let me text her a picture.” She snapped a photo of him, mouth gaping and tilted in shock, as if he was in the middle of a Rocky impression.Yo, Adrian!Her phone chirped immediately with a response. “She thinks you’re cute.”

His cheeks warmed. “She does?” For that matter, who was she?

“Mm, hmm, are you busy tonight?”

“Oh, I um…” Why couldn’t he be busy tonight?

“Because she is free, and I suggested you two meet atRay’sfor dinner at six.”

“Oh, I…okay.”

“Her name is Sheena, and she’ll be waiting at the restaurant.” She patted his hand and moved on, rolling over his toes with her walker on her way past. Somehow it felt like a metaphor for the entire conversation. How had he been so easily bamboozled by an old lady?

He put the entire encounter, plus the pending date, along with the conversation with Darby, far from his mind. At this point his brain was so busy trying to suppress and forget things, it was a wonder he remembered to wear pants. Unless…

He glanced down, not taking chances.Fully dressed, yes!His fist pumped, adding an exclamation to his mental victory. A patient in a nearby wheelchair startled and glared at him.

“I’m wearing pants,” he explained which, in retrospect, wasn’t much of an explanation.

“No need to brag about it,” the man said, and that was when Eli noticed the hospital gown the patient wore.

“No, I didn’t mean…I would never…” He paused and released a breath. At this point he could admit the conversation was beyond redemption, possibly the entire day. Resolved, he gave the man a nod and moved on.

Ray’swas exactly the sort of place an octogenarian would select for a blind date. The most prominent piece of artwork was a signed photo of Bob Barker, reminding everyone to spay or neuter their pets, and the diningroom was already starting to empty out after the evening’s early bird special. Tonight’s selection consisted of sliced turkey, mashed potatoes and gravy, and creamed corn. Sheena was easy to spot, both because she was the only person who sat alone and also the only person under seventy in the room.

She stood at his approach and jutted her hand, giving his a little shake that felt more like he was about to interview for a job than go on the date. He didn’t hate it, though, and she wasn’t bad to look at. Not pretty, exactly, certainly not Plushy level, but she had the kind of features that would continue to get better with age, and she was well cared for—nails painted, minimal makeup carefully applied, hair tidily arranged.No red flags yet,Eli noted. His guard remained up, however. He’d already learned the hard way that sometimes the crazy was really good at hiding.

“So, how do you know my great Aunt Louisa?” Sheena asked.

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