Jeanie London - The Time of Her Life

Mrs. Donaire had been a professor in France.

Mrs. Highsmith had eight children, eighteen grandchildren and four great-grandchildren.

Mrs. Munsell had an obsession with Elvis.

The collages would provide easy topics to chat with the residents about to help Susanna get to know everyone.

“Kimberly, who’s responsible for those biographical collages?” Susanna asked the head R.N. during a pause in the explanation how to chart patient information on the computerized system.

The Arbors used cutting-edge medical charting technology, which meant all resident contact was documented so all caregivers accessed only current information.

“Tessa, the activity director,” Kimberly said. “Did you meet her yesterday?”

Susanna nodded. “Amber looks a lot like her.”

“Except for that pretty dark hair. Amber gets that from her daddy.” Kimberly smiled. “The residents make those collages with Tessa’s help. It’s one of the ongoing activities around here—getting to know me.”

“I noticed that on the activities calendar and assumed it was some sort of meet and greet,” Susanna said. “So, so clever.”

“Tessa would appreciate knowing you think so. Mr. C. gave her all kinds of grief for putting nail holes in the walls when she hung up those frames.”

Susanna glanced at the frame beside Mr. Butterfield’s door. The man was a retired career naval officer. His work appeared to have had something to do with submarines. “I suppose we have to make sacrifices for a greater good.”

“Better not let Chester hear you say that,” a familiar voice said from a distance.

The sound of that voice brought Susanna up quickly, a flutter of breath in her throat as she found Jay looking morning fresh, cheeks pink from a recent shave and hair damp.

“Good morning,” he said with a throaty edge to his voice, a rough-silk sound, as if he wasn’t fully awake yet.

“Good morning.” All her predawn calm evaporated beneath a rush of adrenaline, so intense it surprised her.

“Only one person around here cared about those holes, Mr. C.” Kimberly rolled her eyes. “You know those collages are excellent memory prompts.”

“Only for the folks who can remember their names.”

Susanna stared. Joking about memory problems in a memory-care facility? That was about the last thing she expected.

Kimberly waved him off with a laughing “Pshaw.”

Susanna listened curiously, knowing Gerald, or any VIP from Northstar, would likely faint on the spot if they’d overheard this particular exchange. Corporate professionalism being what it was, anything that wasn’t politically correct was taboo.

“I didn’t realize the collages were memory prompts,” she said mildly.

Jay nodded. “To be fair, every effort to build memory helps, and the volunteers find them especially useful while they’re getting to know their way around.”

“New administrators, too,” she admitted.

“Guess they’re worth all the holes, then.”

He didn’t look convinced, but politely acquiesced for her benefit. Susanna wasn’t sure how to respond to that. She felt somehow robbed of her words, as if she couldn’t think clearly.

“No holes for the birthdays and death notices posted in the front lobby.” She filled the sudden awkward silence with a completely irrelevant observation.

“True,” Jay agreed, leveling a gaze her way, somehow the green of his eyes all the more vibrant for his freshly scrubbed appearance. “That information is handy. Not only to engage the residents who can remember those sorts of details but to remind the staff and volunteers.”

“Tessa briefs everyone in the mornings on special events,” Kimberly explained. “We provide balloons, and Liz serves cake at lunch so it’s a big party.”

“What a wonderful way to help the residents celebrate and feel special.” Susanna knew that keeping the residents engaged was a full-time job and an essential part of healthy senior living. “Tessa’s also responsible for decorating around here?”

Jay nodded.

“I have to admit I couldn’t imagine anyone outdoing the activity director at my last facility. But I’m impressed.”

Every foyer leading to a separate wing had been decked out with decorations to recreate Hawaiian beach scenes—palm trees and bright umbrellas and lawn chairs. A section near the first-floor activities area had been cordoned off and filled with sand while the wall was covered in a floor-to-ceiling digital image of a Pacific coastline.

“This is such a tough time of year to make exciting,” Susanna said. “Summer’s over. Labor Day is over. In New York, we can play up autumn, but here in Charlotte it seems a bit early.”

Kimberly brushed her fingers across the touch-screen display. “We won’t be in full leaf change for another month. It’s something to see if you haven’t already.”

“I think I’m in for quite a treat,” she agreed, then thanked Kimberly for taking the time to walk her through the CareCharter program and found herself alone with Jay.

“You got off to an early start today,” he said.

“Lots to accomplish.”

He nodded. “If you don’t mind, I need coffee. Walk with me to Dietary and tell me how your first night went.”

“Phone calls to let everyone know that I made it to Charlotte safely.” Phone calls to Brooke and Brandon before she’d passed out face-first on the big four-poster bed in the guest cottage. “Then I spent some time with the personnel files, refreshing myself on the staff. I’ve been through them before, but it was nice to put faces with the names.”

Jay beelined for the industrial coffee brewer in the kitchen and offered her a cup, which she accepted gratefully.

“Doesn’t sound as if you did much settling in.” He dispensed a cup for himself.

“I’ll have time to get organized this weekend.”

He took a long swallow and grimaced. “See what I mean?”

She met his gaze over the rim of the mug. “Not quite VIA, but not too bad.”

“That’s kind.” He swallowed another sip. “But it’s leaded, and that’s what’s important.”

Susanna chuckled. “Oh, I remember what I wanted to ask you, Jay. You have a lot of family members on staff. I’m curious. Is this a Southern thing or a private-facility thing?”

It certainly wasn’t a corporate thing when the legal department had clear-cut guidelines about what constituted conflict of interest.

Jay paused with the cup to his mouth. “I’ll go with the private facility. We’ve established The Arbors as a great place to work. Our five family members span three generations and four departments. Different last names.”

“Wow. And no conflict of interest?”

“None. In fact, it’s exactly the opposite. Lots of loyalty with the families.” He raised his cup in a salute. “But Northstar can conduct new hires how they see fit. My staff will be grandfathered in.”

No, Jay definitely wasn’t pulling any punches. Susanna inclined her head and sipped to avoid a reply, not wanting to engage in controversy so early on her second day.

Gerald had explained how rigid Jay had been regarding The Arbors’ employees. After the acquisition, there would have to be substantial cause and a fair bit of documentation to terminate any of the staff. She hoped he was right about the loyalty.

“The fact you have employees on staff for decades says a lot about the facility you run.”

“Something good, I hope.”

“Yes.” That was entirely honest. Northstar very much appreciated hardworking employees and worked equally hard to keep them. Susanna was a perfect example. She’d been with the company almost twenty years.

Jay seemed to appreciate the praise and smiled, which melted the hard lines of his face. Susanna was struck by how accessible he was. She’d only known him two days and it was so easy to talk with him. Personable. That’s exactly what he was, which was probably why everyone around here liked him so much.