SUNSET ROMANCE: 10) ESCALATION
My Saturday Evening Post
13.
Leonard Peabody had finished dinner, a barbeque for 30 at his ranch outside Los Olivos, behind the Santa Ynez Mountains, when he received the disturbing call from Rodney.
“You’re not going to believe this,” says Rodney. “Our mother has taken up with another man.”
Already into a third glass of wine, Leonard wasn’t sure he had heard his older brother right. “What did you say?”
“At this very moment mom is in bed with another man!”
Leonard laughs. “Very funny, Rod.”
“I’M NOT KIDDING!”
“C’mon, what the hell are you talking about?”
“I just got off the phone with Sunset. They say she met a man yesterday—and that he just moved into her bedroom!”
“That’s ridiculous,” says Leonard, more dumbfounded than outraged. “Are you serious?”
“Lenny, this is not April Fool’s Day. Don’t you get it? The Greasy Burger fortune is under siege!”
Leonard, slow on the uptake, generally, now understood what his brother was so alarmed about. “This isn’t good.”
“She’s lost her marbles!”
Leonard immediately clicks to the implication of this. “If that’s the case, we need to document it. Get over there as fast as possible.”
“Meet me there.”
“Can’t, Rod,” says Leonard, “we’re entertaining tonight. You’re closer. I’ll call Dr. Armstrong first thing in the morning.”
Dr. Armstrong was the family psychiatrist.
14.
Sunset Assisted Living is quiet at 8:32 p.m. when Rodney Peabody screeches up to the front entrance in a brand-new red Mini Cooper. At 61, Rodney had transformed mid-life crisis into second childhood. He bounds through the door and up to reception.
Carol-Ann had already left for the evening. But John Mulberry remained beyond his normal clock-out time, wisely assuming the situation over which he presided might escalate.
“Where’s my mother?” Rodney bellows over the night-shift receptionist through the open office door where Mulberry sits behind his desk.
Mulberry jumps up, steps forward. “Good evening, Mr. Peabody.”
“Is that what you call it, a good evening? What is this place…?” Rodney throws his arms up. “Headquarters for old-age Match-dot-com?”
“Calm down, Mr. Peabody.”
“Have you removed the gold-digger from my mother’s room?” Rodney’s eyes bulge from their sockets.
“No. We don’t have…”
“You mean they’re in there, right now?”
“Yes. Because…”
“Gimme the phone.” Rodney grabs the house phone on the reception counter. “What’s my mother’s extension?”
“Please lower your voice, Mr. Peabody. You’ll wake our residents.”
Mulberry recites the extension number, Rodney taps digits.
It rings and rings and rings.
“You sure she’s in her room?” snarls Rodney.
“I saw her go there myself.”
“With a man?”
Mulberry nods.
Rodney explodes. “What kind of cheap motel are you running here?!”
“Please, we need a calm environment for our residents.”
“Calm?” Rodney bangs the counter hard with his fist. “You want me to be calm while my 90 mother is having sex with a stranger?!”
“Mr. Peabody!”
Rodney abruptly turns and storms down the residential corridor.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Mulberry calls after him.
“To remove my mother from this… this… brothel!” Rodney hollers without looking back.
“Call security,” Mulberry instructs the night receptionist.
Security consists of a single male guard, a Hispanic named Sergio. He had just finished doing his rounds, a patrol through the facility to see if any of the living dead were still awake, and if so, to remind them of the late hour and their need for a good nights’ rest. As if to appear efficient, Sergio trots the last 50 yards after receiving a summons.
“Come with me,” snaps Mulberry.