Old Farts Marriage Parlor

Maggie felt the flush coming to her face once again, as it generally did every day around three in the afternoon. Her little Elf was back after finishing up her part-time route. “Mom, I am going to take a shower and then eat a late lunch. What do you have fixed for me?”

Instead of answering, Maggie rose swiftly from her chair and stomped past Marissa. Once again, her daughter stood in stupefied astonishment, hands on ample hips, wondering what she had done to offend her 100-year-old-mother. When the car was not moved anywhere, Marissa shrugged and then turned on the hot shower. Her mom was simply going over to Old Man Jagger’s house. Probably to vent. Over nothing as was her custom these days. Marissa could only hope she would not turn out that way in what was it-thirty years or so?

Maggie let herself in. She needed no key nor an invitation to enter Marvin Jagger’s home. She knew exactly where he would be at three in the afternoon, that is, unless he’d finally reached his croaking age at 103.

And there he was, right as rain. His old-timey stereo set played a song he’d no doubt sung at least a thousand times over the last twenty years. She knew because it was Maggie who had encouraged Marvin to buy it from Online Fortunes.

She plopped into the chair next to his recliner. “Hey, you old coot, listen close to me, ‘cause I’m only gonna say this once.”

Marvin’s hearing was almost perfect, but he turned down the stereo because of Maggie’s flushed look. And she was sitting as straight in the chair as General Jackson. It was a sure sign Marissa was getting Maggie’s last goat. Again.

“Marvin let’s get married. Like next week.”

“What are your terms?” He fixed steady green eyes upon his neighbor and best friend.

“We move into my house. Live on the first floor. I want to turn my second floor into some kind of business.”

“Anything else?” He set the headphones on the phone table.

“Don’t sell this house. Rent it out. To both our Elves. They could afford the rent if they went in together. This way, your precious Raymond can’t squall he would die being put out on the street. You’re not offering him that with my plan. So how about it? Shall we get married next week?”

“You got a deal Lucille.” He stuck out a firm but wrinkled hand. Maggie kissed it and bounced out the door.

A second later her head poked through, and she waved his way to get his attention again. “And do not tell Raymond. I won’t tell Marissa a thing. Not until after we’re married.”

Marvin laughed. “I’m sure your photographer will be around to capture that look on her face.”

Maggie cackled like an old hen. “And on Raymond’s face too. It’s gonna be a fun day. Let’s make it on Wednesday.”

He nodded and kept smiling. After all these years, he would finally get her. She was the only woman he’d ever known that commanded every secret thing, bad or good, that Marvin Jagger had ever done.

He grunted after a sudden thought.  He’d most likely take Marissa’s bedroom for himself. For now, Maggie’s bed would not be on his radar. He could not allow Maggie to see his ridiculous, shrunken pecker. Little pills to encourage any sudden length only gave him headaches.

This was one area that former President Hanburger’s awesome Medicare perks, did not breach. Of all the great things he, Maggie and millions of their generation had partaken in over the past fifteen years to make their bodies younger, fitter, and healthier, anything to do with rejeuvenation of sexual strength stayed a private expense.

Otherwise, Marvin’s generation, also called the Hundies, were not dying off in droves, but instead, they held their own with decent, if not stable health. Wonderful for them, not so great a thing for older children. Inheritance money dangled out of reach for them, so long as their super elderly parents kept to their ballroom schedules.

Maggie knew her little plot would work. Marissa was off on Wednesdays. On that day she slept late and piddled with this or that. But on that fateful chiming of noontide, something would be changing. Maggie would surely have her cell phone’s camera and gallery primed and ready to capture-that look.

When the day came, it was at 12:45 on Wednesday, and Maggie popped open her door and hollered, “Marissa dear, where are you?”

She had just removed herself from an unusually long session in the jacuzzi. She plodded through the living room, still dripping, one towel not enough to cover her body. “I think the stew in the crockpot is about ready. You eating some?”

“No Marissa. I’m too full of wedding cake for that.” She pulled her phone from a pocket.

Marissa stalled out suddenly at the kitchen island. “Oh, you don’t look dressed for having been to a wedding. Where was it?”

“Right next door at Marvin’s house.”

Marissa turned too suddenly. The towel fell away. Crap! How could Maggie take a photo now? Maybe she could figure out how to photoshop out those saggy breasts, but the look for the ages on her Elf’s face was only seconds away.

“You mean Raymond actually found somebody who wanted to marry him? Pretty unreal.” She grabbed the towel and wrenched it more sturdily around her frame. Good.

“No. It wasn’t Raymond. He wasn’t even there. It was Marvin.”

The big dipping spoon stopped midway between crockpot and eating bowl. “Marvin Jagger at age 103 has found a bride! I cannot imagine what she looks like!”

Maggie made her way to within five feet of her Elf. “Try looking at me. Then you will have a clue.” Snap. Snap, snap.

“What! Have you lost every bit of your freakin’ mind?” Click. Click, click.

“Be sure to have your extra- large butt sitting in that couch right there at six this evening. We are having a family pow-wow. Raymond will be in attendance. You two may be getting together after all.”

At six, Marvin still had not told Raymond anything. He was sitting very clueless on the couch with Marissa glaring his way. She did not know how to approach this. Was Raymond really this dumb? Or was the rumor about an Alzheimer’s diagnosis true for him?

Both Maggie and Marvin had their phone cameras primed to perfection. “Raymond son, I have important news for you just now.” He clicked a picture too soon but the bland look on his son’s flat, face would be endlessly compared to the picture coming up in a few seconds. Obviously, Marissa had not prepared him for the shock.

“Since Maggie and I were married today, we are choosing to live here. My house will be rented out. You and Marissa get first dibs on living there. But if you don’t want to, it’s ok, you can get your own digs.”

Lots of clicks and snaps. On both Marissa and Raymond. They glanced here and there but still barely looked at one another. They would soon have to get rid of this ridiculous animosity they’d always held for one another.

“I want my little Elf to pack up her things tomorrow and bring them over to Raymond’s house. If you don’t want to live there, then your things have to be hauled out by a mover to some place you can afford. I have no clue where that might be, so it looks like it will be at Raymond’s new house. Congratulations to both of you!”

Suddenly Raymond stood. He slammed a throw pillow to the carpeted floor. “No! No! I won’t stand for this. Not for another minute!”

“Stand for what?” Marvin’s voice dripped with a sweet tremble.

“First of all, since Maggie over there has been calling Marissa her Little Elf, you started doing the same thing to me. It makes me mad. I am angry at you Dad! And this situation! It’s bizarre. You are getting married to spite me. Shame on you Marvin.”

Marvin folded both arms over his chest. “Ok, let’s analyze this. First things first. What does an Elf do?”

The fumes venting from Raymond’s mouth were not exactly words, so Maggie finished off his cloudy fragments. “An Elf is a small person. You and Marissa are small people. Heaven knows not in body size, but in dignity. Neither of you worked enough to draw social security. Maybe you will get some at 75 if the new president you helped get elected has an ounce of sense. An Elf also is a Moocher. He mooches off Santa. For everything, especially his roof.” Maggie could not resist snapping and clicking again. Marissa had moved over to where Raymond was about to explode. She clucked this and that to calm him down. Priceless photos to come.