The Time of Her Life. Jeanie LondonЧитать онлайн книгу.

      CHAPTER THREE

      JAY SPUN AROUND WHEN he heard shuffling footsteps. Sure enough, Walter bore down on him with a curious expression.

      “What are you doing in the bushes— Oh, I see,” he said in his deaf-old-man voice that carried halfway down the hall.

      There was no missing the view from this prime spot behind a majestic palm in the dayroom entrance. Susanna stood beside the CareTracker, a touch-screen computer that protruded from the wall. Kimberly, the shift R.N., appeared to be explaining how to work the charting system.

      “One might think you don’t trust the new administrator,” Walter said.

      “I don’t know her, so how can I trust her?”

      “Think spying is the way to go, do you?”

      “You sound like Amber. I am not spying.” Jay spent his every waking moment with Walter and everyone else around here. How could they possibly think he was doing anything but hiding from them? Jay grabbed precious seconds alone with both hands and would continue to do so for six more months. Then he wouldn’t have to hide again.

      “Have some faith, Walter. Why would I need to spy on Susanna? Look at her handling Kimberly. Professional. Friendly. Pleasant smile. Great legs.”

      Great legs?

      Jay tried again. “At least she won’t scare the residents. I think we should at least give her a chance, don’t you?”

      “You want me to lurk in the bushes, too?”

      “Just taking a minute to catch my breath.”

      “And enjoy the view.” An accusation.

      Jay couldn’t exactly deny it now, could he? “Don’t give away all my good hiding places.”

      That got a reaction. Walter rolled his gaze heavenward, no doubt sending up a prayer to Gran for divine intervention. “You need to get a life, boy.”

      “Um, yeah. That’s kind of the point of selling this place.” Jay stepped from behind the palm and headed down the hallway, dodging the lecture he sensed forthcoming.

      Walter would not piss in Jay’s cereal today. Not when his plan was getting underway. He’d gotten Susanna settled in the cottage last night, and had arrived to find that she’d preceded him onto the property this morning. Imagine that. There was hope this plan might actually work, and he didn’t want to jinx anything by listening to Walter’s negativity.

      * * *

      SUSANNA’S SECOND DAY WAS all about understanding routines at The Arbors. She got to work before the third shift ended, before the morning routines got into full swing when the residents awoke. Touring the first-floor halls, where residents required hospital-type care in the nursing center, she chatted with staff who were closing out the shift with quiet efficiency.

      Her day was off to a more relaxed, albeit earlier, start today, for which she was grateful. She needed to get her feet under her as an administrator, and starting the day on her own, without Jay running interference, did much to soothe her nerves.

      She discussed individual cases with the LPNs, tried to commit resident names to memory and found that someone very generously put scrapbooking skills to good use. Personalized collages of biographical data, hobbies and a photo hung beside each door. She’d noticed them yesterday, but took the time today to appreciate the effective genius of the collages. Putting faces to names made the learning curve so much simpler.

      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