asked for my advice, Susanna, but I’m going
to give it, anyway. Make a point to get off the property. There’s a lot going on
in town, and it’s good to get away. The Arbors has a way of commandeering time.
We call it Standard Arbor Time and it’s nonstop, around the clock.”
“I think I’ve seen a glimpse of that this week.” She sounded
charmed by the idea.
Jay supposed he shouldn’t be surprised, with the way she worked
from sunup to sundown. But something told him busy was exactly the way she
wanted to be right now. Funny how life had them in exactly the opposite places.
She’d reared her family and wanted to be busy. He wanted to get busy rearing a
family and filling his days with something other than dementia care.
He wondered how long ago her husband had died. Had his death
been unexpected? Jay didn’t ask. Her personal life was none of his business even
if there had been some tactful way to ask about a dead spouse. There wasn’t.
Leaning against the arch separating living room from dining
room, she folded her arms over her chest. “Amber mentioned a mall by the
racetrack. And I read about a historic plantation I’d like to visit that’s not
far from here.”
“That’s a start.” And then they were staring at each other
across the expanse of newly polished floors and overly friendly dogs. He might
have kept standing and staring except Butters sidled toward the wall shelves,
knocking some sense into Jay.
“The golf cart?” he prompted, forcing himself to stop enjoying
the view. “It’s easy to operate, but you need to know about the battery. Chester
will keep his eye on it. You let him know when it needs to be fueled.”
“I can park it near the maintenance and engineering shed where
you keep yours?”
He nodded.
“Please show me whatever you think I need to know. I didn’t
mean to keep you. You were kind to offer your help.”
Pushing away from the wall, she breezed past him with that same
breathless energy and graceful motion he noticed every time he looked at her.
She headed outside and he moved to follow, but the dogs cut him off, nearly
knocking him over in their haste to trail her. Sorry beasts.
Jay headed after them, making sure he didn’t pay attention to
the gentle sway of Susanna’s hips as she took the stairs with light steps or to
the dark curls bouncing on her shoulders. She chatted the whole way as if she
didn’t want to hear any more silence between them, either.
“I understand from Gerald that your grandmother is responsible
for building the main facility. What about this cottage? There are so many
antiques.”
“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
to give it, anyway. Make a point to get off the property. There’s a lot going on
in town, and it’s good to get away. The Arbors has a way of commandeering time.
We call it Standard Arbor Time and it’s nonstop, around the clock.”
“I think I’ve seen a glimpse of that this week.” She sounded
charmed by the idea.
Jay supposed he shouldn’t be surprised, with the way she worked
from sunup to sundown. But something told him busy was exactly the way she
wanted to be right now. Funny how life had them in exactly the opposite places.
She’d reared her family and wanted to be busy. He wanted to get busy rearing a
family and filling his days with something other than dementia care.
He wondered how long ago her husband had died. Had his death
been unexpected? Jay didn’t ask. Her personal life was none of his business even
if there had been some tactful way to ask about a dead spouse. There wasn’t.
Leaning against the arch separating living room from dining
room, she folded her arms over her chest. “Amber mentioned a mall by the
racetrack. And I read about a historic plantation I’d like to visit that’s not
far from here.”
“That’s a start.” And then they were staring at each other
across the expanse of newly polished floors and overly friendly dogs. He might
have kept standing and staring except Butters sidled toward the wall shelves,
knocking some sense into Jay.
“The golf cart?” he prompted, forcing himself to stop enjoying
the view. “It’s easy to operate, but you need to know about the battery. Chester
will keep his eye on it. You let him know when it needs to be fueled.”
“I can park it near the maintenance and engineering shed where
you keep yours?”
He nodded.
“Please show me whatever you think I need to know. I didn’t
mean to keep you. You were kind to offer your help.”
Pushing away from the wall, she breezed past him with that same
breathless energy and graceful motion he noticed every time he looked at her.
She headed outside and he moved to follow, but the dogs cut him off, nearly
knocking him over in their haste to trail her. Sorry beasts.
Jay headed after them, making sure he didn’t pay attention to
the gentle sway of Susanna’s hips as she took the stairs with light steps or to
the dark curls bouncing on her shoulders. She chatted the whole way as if she
didn’t want to hear any more silence between them, either.
“I understand from Gerald that your grandmother is responsible
for building the main facility. What about this cottage? There are so many
antiques.”
“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
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