Free Moving Can Be Murder by Susan Santangelo Page B

news.
You’re going to be so happy.”
    Jim was bouncing up and down on the balls of
his feet now.
    I swept some bubble wrap off a dining room
chair and gave him my complete attention. Lower your expectations,
I warned myself, having learned over the years that Jim’s idea of
great news (a five-cent drop in gas at the pump) and mine (I tried
on a Size 6 dress and actually zipped it up) were usually miles
apart.
    “Eden’s Grove had a full-page ad in this
morning’s paper. You remember that place, right?”
    Remember it? How could I forget it? The
active adult community that was so “active” I’d need pep pills to
keep up with the pace there. To say nothing of their single-pet
policy, which had completely turned me off.
    I felt a prickle of foreboding.
    “They’ve re-thought their marketing strategy
to be more competitive in the current real estate market,” My
Beloved continued. “The owners have figured out that multi-pet
families like ours could expand their potential buyer pool.
Especially since all the other active adult communities have a
single-pet policy. So they’re building a section of free-
    standing homes that’s pet-friendly. It’s
even going to have a fenced-in dog park. Isn’t that a great
idea?”
    I briefly wondered if the dogs would have
scheduled activities as frantic as the humans’.
    “Lucy and Ethel will love it there as much
as we will. I put down a deposit on a house this morning. All you
have to do is sign and we’ll be the first home owners in the new
section. They may even use us in their advertising to attract other
buyers.
    “So you don’t have to worry anymore about
where we’re going after we close on this house. It’s all set. Isn’t
that terrific?”
     
    Obviously Jim thought he’d pulled off a huge
coup. I wasn’t so sure. And I was plenty aggravated that he hadn’t
consulted me first before making such a major decision.
    Of course, I hadn’t consulted him when I
signed the listing agreement to sell our house, either. But I knew
he’d go along with it.
    Oh, what the heck. We were moving to a brand
new place with top-of-the-line everything and I could keep both
dogs.
    My Beloved would learn to play golf. We
would swim leisurely laps in the pool.
    And I could always lock the door and take a
long nap if the frantic pace of activities overwhelmed me.
    I hoped I’d at least be able to pick the
color scheme for our new digs.
     

 

Chapter 11
     
    Some people sweat. I’m so glam, I ooze
glitter.
     
    The last box had been packed and labeled.
The last closet had been emptied. Even the garage looked clean, for
the first time in twenty years.
    My Beloved and I walked through each room
hand in hand, our footsteps echoing in the now-empty house. I was
having trouble holding my emotions in check. Even Jim, who is
rarely emotional, had tears in his eyes, though he’d never admit
it.
    “Well, I guess it’s time to go,” he
said.
    “Goodbye house. We’ve loved every minute
here.”
    Hand-in-hand, we walked out the kitchen door
and locked it for the last time.
    And didn’t look back.

     
    I couldn’t sleep.
    It was a strange bed, with lots of lumps and
bumps. Or maybe the lumps and bumps were my aging body. Anyway,
this new apartment was going to take some getting used to. Thank
God it was only for a few months, until our Eden’s Woods house was
ready. Assuming it was completed on time, which, according to Nancy
was rare in the construction world.
    As if sleeping in a lumpy bed wasn’t bad
enough, I also was having hot flashes for the first time in years.
I figured the stress of moving must have activated my power surge
mechanism. Rats. Who needed this?
    My Beloved, of course, was having no trouble
sleeping. His rhythmic snores were a pleasant, familiar sound. Even
my tossing and turning didn’t disturb him. Lucy and Ethel had
adjusted pretty quickly to the new digs, too, each finding a
comfortable spot on the bedroom carpeting and zonking out. Ah, a
dog’s life