The Time of Her Life (2 page)

Gran had learned all she could about Alzheimer’s care and kept
up with the research. Her tiny ALF had grown from one bed in the main house to
one hundred and twenty beds in a new three-story facility with a nursing center
on the ground floor. The Arbors had become an A-list memory-care community with
a long waiting list for admission.

Would this around-forty widow with college kids have the
compassion and ability to carry on Gran’s legacy? Northstar Management had
promised to send the perfect person to replace him so he could get on with
living his life. Finally.

He’d given so much to this place that, if he didn’t get out
soon, there would be nothing left of him. This place was sucking him dry.

“And you really won’t close the deal if you’re unhappy
with—what’s her name again?” Walter asked.

“Ms. Adams. Ms. Susanna Adams.”

“If you’re unhappy with
Ms. Susanna
Adams?
” Everything about Walter, from the creased white eyebrows to
the hard stare in his eyes, which still read between the lines, broadcast his
doubt.

“Really, Walter? You’re questioning my integrity?”

He shook his head. “Just your ability to see clearly.”

The same could be said about Walter and his stubborn refusal to
even consider a future with Northstar. He’d seized any chance to talk some sense
into Jay, had been rallying the troops to his side at every opportunity.

Fortunately, the troops knew who signed the paychecks and
didn’t have Walter’s personal family ties to risk the potential consequences of
a mutiny. Jay had shocked them all with his decision to sell. Now he was a wild
card, and no one was sure how hard they could push him. Jay knew that as well as
he knew everyone in The Arbors. If he hadn’t hired an employee personally, his
mom, dad, gran or granddad had.

“I’ve covered all the bases, Walter. You know how many hours I
spent with the attorneys creating the contracts. I know you didn’t forget
because they billed
you.
And Alzheimer’s isn’t
contagious. Not even with as many years as you’ve been here.”

Walter folded his arms over his chest, rocked back on his
saddle shoes with his mouth compressed into a tight line. He’d promised Gran to
look after the place until his dying breath, and he meant to do exactly that.
Did all this stubborn resistance stem from worry that the new owners might force
him to retire because of his age?

Jay hadn’t considered that before. “The very last thing I want
is for the residents to sacrifice standard of care or my employees their
jobs.”

“
Former
employees.”

“Not yet they’re not. And not until I’m sure everything is
moving in the right direction.” The twenty-first century, to be exact. “I’ll
never expand The Arbors as a private company the way Northstar can with Fortune
500 financial backing. They’re top-notch in senior care. The absolute best in
the nation. We need to stay on the cutting edge with research so we can continue
to provide the care Gran wanted.”

“You’re on the cutting edge. Your grandmother single-handedly
got the Alzheimer’s Association to fund the research at University of North
Carolina at Chapel Hill. She’d have talked them into conducting it right here in
Charlotte if UNC had been outfitted to handle the clinical trials.”

“Seven years ago.” Before everything had changed. Before his
mom had wound up a resident in the facility she’d once help run. Before Gran had
died. Before his dad had died. Before Mom had died. Before everything had become
Jay’s responsibility.

“Don’t see why you can’t do the same, Jay.”

Jay was not going to defend himself, not standing in the
hallway whispering. Walter was dead wrong on this, whether or not he admitted
it. Gran had had Granddad to help, and income from the farm to foot the bills
while she devoted herself to her Alzheimer’s crusade. She’d had Mom to help
before she’d had to care for Mom, and Dad to help after Mom couldn’t. After Dad
had died, Gran had Jay.

Jay didn’t have anyone. Well, there was Drew, of course.
Major
Drew Canady, Jay’s older brother who’d been
smart enough to run off and join the Marines. He’d seen the handwriting on the
wall and had made sure he wouldn’t be around to get stuck running the family
business.

Now Drew had a life when Jay couldn’t even remember the last
time he’d done anything but spend every waking moment dealing with the
never-ending demands of this place. Dementia care frightened off most women
fast, and he didn’t have time for his friends anymore.

So when in hell was Jay supposed to make time to lobby the
state legislature or Alzheimer’s Association or pharmaceutical corporations or
private medical research facilities
and
run The
Arbors with its endless assessments, intakes, evaluations and treatment
plans?

There were two hundred and fifty employees. There were one
hundred and twenty residents, and most came with families who needed to be
reassured, educated, informed and answered to about quality of care. There were
volunteers and private companions and churches and all the outside resources
that ministered to the residents to provide quality of life.

And quality of death. How many nights had Jay hoofed it here in
the dark to meet funeral directors and deal with grieving families after a
resident died?

Walter knew better than anyone what running this place
entailed, and he’d heard all these arguments before. He might not want to retire
until he was wheeled out of his office on a gurney, but he wouldn’t live
forever.

Neither would Jay, and he had no intention of spending the rest
of his life without actually living. And life wouldn’t start until he left The
Arbors.

* * *

S
USANNA
SMILED
AT
THE
young woman
behind the reception desk, who didn’t appear much older than Brooke.

“Good morning,” the girl said, the lilt to her voice all
Southern charm and novelty to a born-and-bred Yankee.

“Good morning.” Susanna handed a business card to the young
woman whose engraved badge identified her as Amber.

Susanna had already reviewed personnel files, so this young
woman must be...

Amber Snelling, first-shift
receptionist.

Currently working on her BSc in Operations
Management.

Daughter of the Activity
Director.

Amber glanced at the business card, eyes widening. “Ms. Adams!”
She was on her feet instantly, extending a hand. “Welcome to The Arbors. We knew
you were coming in today, but Mr. C. didn’t tell us when.”

Mr. C. would be Jay Canady, administrator and owner. The man
hadn’t told his staff when she would arrive, which meant he couldn’t be too
worried about them being on their best behavior. That said something about Mr.
C.’s confidence in his employees.

“I came from Raleigh and wasn’t exactly sure how long the drive
would take.”

“Raleigh. Wow.” Amber said. “I hope Mr. C. brought you through
Asheboro so you didn’t deal with the traffic on 85.”

Mr. C. hadn’t brought her through Asheboro because Susanna had
let her GPS lead the way. “I’m happy to report the traffic wasn’t bad at
all.”

Of course, traffic was relative, and Susanna only had New York
to compare.

“What time did you leave?” Amber asked.

“Around five.”

She glanced at her computer display. “Hmm. Not too bad. Mr. C.
told everyone you’re from New York—as if I couldn’t tell from your accent. Have
you been to Charlotte before?”

Susanna shook her head.

“Well, make sure you ask about shortcuts while you’re learning
your way around. Of course, if you’re anything like Mr. C., you probably won’t
get off the property all that much. But be aware that some shortcuts are better
than others. Someone around here is bound to know which is which.”

“Thanks, Amber. I’ll remember that.”

Amber glanced in the direction of the administrative offices
then surprised Susanna by continuing the conversation. “When you do manage to
get out of here, visit Concord Mills. It’s a huge shopping mall by the Charlotte
Speedway, so when you go make sure you plan to spend the whole day.”

“Then I’ll have to bring my daughter when she comes to visit.
Shopping is one of her favorite things to do.” When Mom was swiping the plastic,
anyway.

“Your daughter doesn’t live with you?”

“Only in between semesters. She’s in her third year at William
and Mary.”

“I’m in my third year, too. At UNC. But I’m probably older than
your daughter. I work here full-time, so I never take more than three classes.
My degree is taking forever.”

Susanna wasn’t sure how to reply and went the philosophical
route. “I’m sure when all is said and done you’ll look back and think school
took exactly as long as it should have.”

“I hope you’re right.”

Did The Arbors encourage staff to be so friendly, and chatty,
or was Susanna sampling real Southern hospitality? She didn’t want to cut off
the conversation rudely, but she needed to let the owner know she was here, so
she didn’t appear late.

When she opened her mouth to prompt Amber, a man suddenly
appeared with an older gentleman in step behind him.

“Mr. C., Mr. Higgins. Guess who’s here?” Amber announced.

“I see.” The younger of the two gentlemen inclined his head to
acknowledge the receptionist. Then his gaze fixed on Susanna as he strode toward
her, all broad shoulders and quick energy. His smile was wide and fast. “Jay
Canady, Ms. Adams. Welcome to The Arbors. Walter Higgins, our CFO.”

For a moment, Susanna stared.
That voice.
Deep-throated, like honey melted in whiskey, not a drawl, but soft,
stretching vowels that made every syllable distinctive. It took another moment
to realize he was waiting for a reply. She’d stopped breathing. Literally.

What on earth was wrong with her?

“A pleasure to meet you, gentlemen,” she managed. Then she was
shaking hands and making more chitchat while distracting herself with memory
associations so she wouldn’t forget names.

Walter Higgins, dapper elderly chap with a
bow tie. CFO, my old job.

Jay Canady, aka Mr. C. The man who wants
to sell off this gorgeous facility.

Not that she would need a memory prompt to remember him.

Susanna had reviewed the man’s biographical data. Although she
knew he was thirty-two years old and the third generation to run this facility,
Jay Canady wasn’t what she’d expected.

He was all chiseled lines and ruthless masculinity. Neatly
trimmed blond hair contrasted sun-scorched skin that suggested he spent time
outdoors, a fact reinforced by his toned physique. And his eyes were the
greenest green she’d ever seen.

Susanna wasn’t sure what she expected a man who ran a
memory-care facility to look like, but she hadn’t expected hints of David
Beckham and Eomer from
The
Lord of the Rings.

“Northstar promised to send us the perfect property director,
and here you are,” Jay said.

“Perfect for The Arbors, anyway,” she said quickly. “I can’t
imagine any place lovelier. The drive from the gate was breathtaking.”

“You should see the arbors in spring bloom,” Walter said.

“She will,” Jay said. “But not until spring. Now let’s get you
settled before the parade begins. Everyone wants to meet you. I’ll take you to
your new office so you can settle in before I give you the dime tour.”

The dime tour? How charming. With a polite hand on her elbow,
Jay whisked her from the lobby and down a corridor of administrative
offices.

“Welcome to The Arbors, Ms. Adams,” Walter said about halfway
down the hall. “Say the word when you’re ready to tour the financial offices. We
run a tight ship. You’ll be pleased.”

“I’m sure I will, Walter. It was a pleasure meeting you.”

“The same.” If Walter had been wearing a hat, he would have
tipped it. He was such a dashing gentleman.

“I understand Walter’s been an employee since the beginning,”
she said after he vanished into an office, leaving her alone with Jay.

“Before, actually. My grandmother hired him before she ever
broke ground on this place.”

“That continuity of staff says a lot about your facility. It’s
not common nowadays.”

“Has plusses. Minuses, too. Our out-of-house tax attorney was
around since the start, too, but he didn’t trust computers, so he wrote
everything by hand.”

“That must have presented some challenges,” she said
diplomatically.

Jay pulled a face. “He finally retired. We hired a new firm
that conducts twenty-first-century business. But I suspect Northstar will
reassign those out-of-house duties.”

She liked that he put business practices immediately on the
table. “Once we start going through everything, I’ll be able to tell you for
certain. One of our partners is Rockport Investment Banking. I think you’ll
approve their caliber of service.”

Jay didn’t reply before they reached the office at the end of
the hall labeled with a simple gold plate: Administrator.

Pushing the door wide, he allowed her to precede him.

The office must have cornered the building because two walls
were nothing but floor-to-ceiling windows. The view beyond only proved The
Arbors was heaven on earth. Beyond the manicured slope of lawn stretched a lake,
calmly reflecting the arbors that circled the far end and the towering forest
that hid most of the main house from sight.

She recognized pines and fir but there were other trees in
glorious autumn bloom, bright splashes of color that hinted at how spectacular
this view would be a little further into the season when the leaves really
started to change.

“What are those red trees?” she asked. “I’ve never seen
anything like them.”