The Time of Her Life

“This place was my mother’s.” Her hideaway from the world.

“She collected antiques?”

“Sort of. Stuff she picked up here and there. My place is filled to the brim. She has a collection of mantels. You’ll have to see them one day.”

Had he just invited Susanna to his place?

There was a hitch in her step as she slanted a curious gaze his way. “Mantels? As in fireplaces?”

“You got it. I’ve got mantels without fireplaces attached to them. She turned one into a bed frame. She was crazy for them. Doors and windows, too. Used to drag the family to pick through old buildings while most folks were doing yardwork or watching Saturday morning cartoons.”

“The mantel in my living room?”

“From a pre-Civil War cypress cottage near the coast. Took her a while to bring that one back to its original finish. It had taken a beating from being so close to the salt water.”

Susanna stepped up her pace again. “Humph. How imaginative. I would never have thought of anything so creative.”

“She was that.” Before Alzheimer’s claimed her, and all he had left of his loving, laughing and infinitely creative mother was a bunch of mantels, doorknobs and windowsills.

“I for one am very grateful,” Susanna said graciously. “Did she use this as the guest cottage?”

“Sometimes. When we had guests who didn’t want to stay in the house with us. She had some cousins who used to visit from Ireland. They were older and with my brother and I tearing around like wild boys... Well, let’s say they enjoyed a place where they could go for some quiet. My mother, too. She used the cottage for work. She liked to leave the house and have a place where she could concentrate without too many distractions.”

“Work?” Susanna’s interest piqued visibly. “Your mother didn’t work at The Arbors?”

“Everyone in my family worked at The Arbors.” Past tense. Wasn’t anyone left but him. Except for Drew, who didn’t count, but Jay wouldn’t dwell on something he couldn’t change. And he couldn’t change his brother. “My mother was a writer, too. Whenever she was on deadline, she liked to wrap her head around her work. Used to tell my brother and me not to show up unless we were bleeding.”

Susanna went to the passenger side of the golf cart. “I’ve said the same to my kids.”

Jay would take her word for it, since he hadn’t gotten to that part of his life yet. “Ever drive one of these before?”

Susanna shook her head, more glossy waves tumbling around her neck and shoulders in a display that was so feminine, so at odds with her ultra-businesslike appearance.

But not right now. Not when she was casually dressed, all tiny and curvy and tucking her waves behind her ears as she leaned eagerly toward the controls for instruction.

Circling the golf cart, he hopped in and explained the basics. He showed her how to disconnect the battery when she parked the vehicle then took her for a spin to the access road, with the dogs trotting beside him as they always did.

Then they swapped seats and she took him for a spin, starting off tentatively but increasing speed as she gained confidence.

“Not so close, Butters,” she shrieked while making a turn. “They won’t get too close and get hurt?”

“Not a chance. They keep up with me all the time. Have since they were pups. And if they don’t get out of the way of a moving vehicle they deserve what they get.”

He had to work to keep a straight face as he enjoyed her horrified expression. “They’ll move if you get too close.”

“Keep your distance, Butters. I’m serious.”

“That your mom voice?”

She scowled at him, and he lost the battle with a smile.

“So what did your mother write?” she asked after another lap around the cottage.

“Fiction. Literary stuff for magazines. Short stories mostly. Had a few anthology collections published.”

Slowing as she cornered the house yet again, she paid close attention to the dogs as she parked. “How interesting. I bet she got lots of inspiration from around here. From what I’ve seen so far, this place is another world.”

“Oh, it’s that. No question.”

She chuckled, taking the opportunity to ruffle Butters’s neck when he nuzzled up to her. “Keep out from under the tires. Promise me.”

The dog was so greedy for attention he would have promised to live forever. Jay escorted Susanna back to the porch before heading out with his dogs again, but she stopped short and said, “Where on earth did that come from?”

Taking the stairs with light steps, she made an attractive display as she leaned over the big basket propped in a rocking chair. Even in profile, he could see her expression soften as she inspected the gifts.

Perfect timing, Pete.

“Guess I should have had it waiting when you got here a week ago,” he admitted. “But I didn’t think about it until you said you hadn’t made it to the grocery. Welcome to The Arbors.”

“Oh, Jay, how kind. Thank you so much. This couldn’t be more perfect.” She looked as if she was going to pick up the basket, so Jay skipped up a few steps and took it from her.

“Tell me where.”

She held the door as he stepped through, or tried to, since the dogs bullied their way in first. “Kitchen, please.”

He scowled at Gatsby, who headed straight for the sofa. “Don’t even think about it.”

For once the dog obeyed.

“I’m so excited,” she said. “I won’t even have to fight my kids for the chocolate. That’ll be something new.”

The new director of The Arbors had a sweet tooth from the looks of it. She was rooting through the basket. “These pears are gorgeous. And caramel popcorn. Oh, I’m in for a good time.”

“Hope you enjoy it.”

She glanced up and met his gaze with pleasure deep in her blue eyes. “This was really sweet. Thank you. I couldn’t have asked for a better first week—work or home.”

She was making too big a deal out of his effort. All he’d done was text Pete to bring the same welcome basket they gave to all The Arbors’ new ALF residents.

But he was glad she liked everything.

Herding Butters and Gatsby outside, he let the dogs scamper down the steps and said to Susanna, “Enjoy your night.”

Then he headed in the direction of the shed to pick up the path to his house, resisting the urge to glance back to see if she was still there.

* * *

ANOTHER WEEK PASSED before Susanna managed to get the golf cart out of her shed. A frenzied week spent learning names and procedures and routines. A week spent observing medical assessments, intake meetings and care plan evaluations.