The Blind Date

“Be nice or I’ll let Riley introduce you to one up close and personal,” Arielle warns with an evil smile, coming up to the table to stand beside Viktor. She places her arm around him, resting her palm on his shoulder. It’s affectionate, but I know she’s also checking his breathing to see if he’s struggling or breathing too slow or fast. “How’s he treating you, Riley?”

“Let’s see . . . grumpy, snarky, a good dose of leering thrown in for good measure . . . all in all, a good day with Viktor,” I joke good-naturedly.

Viktor laughs but mumbles under his breath, “I don’t leer.”

“What? You do too!” I might as well be arguing with a brick wall for all the good it’ll do me, and I really don’t mind Viktor’s flirty ways because he’s as harmless as can be. He’s lonely and sweet and makes all the female residents feel like they’ve still got it going on despite the fact that they’re no longer young and beautiful the way they once were.

“I only leer because you two are like a candy shop, look but don’t touch!” Viktor whines, fighting to hide his smile. “Just one little touch, that’s all!” He wiggles his fingers toward Arielle but stays far enough back that we all know he’s not really going to touch her. He’s just messing with her because this is what they do for fun. And sport.

“You touch, and you’ll wake up tomorrow with mittens duct taped to your hands,” Arielle mock threatens. “Then what are you going to do? Besides, Riley here needs someone her own age.”

“Arielle!” I protest as Viktor guffaws loud enough to wake Mrs. Johnson in the corner.

“Sorry, Mrs. Johnson. Jeopardy’s not on for another hour,” Arielle tells the frowning woman who nods her chin once and drifts back off to sleep. As though the interaction never happened, Arielle turns back to Viktor and me. “What? It’s true, and you know it,” Arielle says, grabbing a chair and sitting down. Looking at Viktor, she confides, “Riley hasn’t had a date in so long, Mrs. Johnson could still remember it!”

Viktor frowns. “That’s a long time, missy. Mrs. Johnson don’t remember much past the Reagan days.”

“I wasn’t even alive during the Reagan days!” I hiss.

Viktor cocks his bushy white brows at me, offering, “You know, Riley, I might not be as young as I once was, but if you want, I’ll be your boyfriend. You too, Arielle. I know your dance card isn’t full because you hang out with us old folks all the time. When was the last time you took a day off?”

“Oh, please, Viktor, you know I can’t leave you for even a day.” He starts to preen, but she finishes with, “You don’t behave for any of the other staff.” Viktor smirks, and I suspect that’s the absolute truth. Arielle’s willing to play along with Viktor, though, and teases, “What could you do for us? Seriously.”

“You know, I wasn’t always the epitome of a silver fox you see seated before you today,” Viktor says, leaning back in his chair to puff out his bony chest. His flannel plaid shirt still hangs loosely on his thin frame. “Back in my prime in the eighties, I’d have been able to leave you both more than satisfied on my waterbed! It was all about the motion of the ocean.” He mimes a wave with his gnarled hand.

Arielle taps me on the shoulder to make sure I’m paying attention as she delivers her big blow. “Wow, Viktor!” she says with fake wide, innocent eyes, “I didn’t know they had water beds back in the eighteen eighties!”

“Ooh, elder abuse!” Viktor rasps, clutching a hand to his chest and grinning. “See what I have to put up with, Riley? Oliver Twist had it better than I do! Oh, the humanity!”

“I’m sure you give as good as you get, Viktor,” I tell him, and Viktor grins. “Maybe give more than you get, too.”

“Get me a couple of Viagra, and I’ll definitely give it,” Viktor says before narrowing his eyes at Arielle. “This girl won’t let me have any . . . stupid doctor’s orders.”

“Viktor, you try sneaking Viagra in here again and I really will tape your mittens on!” Arielle says with just enough seriousness to let Viktor know she isn’t quite joking. “You know what it’ll do to your heart, and though I’ll deny having said it, I happen to like having you around here!”

“Ah, you’re no fun,” Viktor says, but he’s smiling at the compliment. Getting back to the game, he picks up one of his checkers and hops three of my pieces. “And that, I believe, is how it’s done. King me, Riley.”

I look at the board, and I’m pretty sure that in all that discussion, he slid a piece on me. Still, I king his piece, losing a few minutes later when he traps my last piece with a nifty little snare maneuver. “Sharp as ever,” I tell him, offering a good sportsmanlike handshake. “Rematch next week, Viktor?”