The Time of Her Life (22 page)

He’d felt surprised there were so many presents for him under
the tree, and not just from Drew and Walter. Brooke declared herself the gift
distributor and sat in her warm robe with her hair pulled up in a lopsided
ponytail, an organizer like her mom. She kept track of who hadn’t yet opened a
gift.

“No, no, Grandpa, hang on to that for a
second. Uncle Charles hasn’t opened the one from Mom yet.”

She read each tag aloud. “This one’s for Jay from Aunt Karan
and Uncle Charles.”

He glanced at the blond couple sitting close together on the
divan. “Appreciated, but not necessary.”

“Of course it was.” Karan waved a dismissive hand. “You’ve
opened your home to us, Jay. We’re having a lovely time.”

“I chose that gift, though, so you’re safe.” Charles pulled his
wife close to him and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “She wanted me to
pick you up a surgical sanitizing wand from one of my hospital suppliers.”

“I didn’t. I swear.” Karan laughed. “But it would be handy for
traveling.”

Smiling and aware that everyone watched him, Jay unwrapped a
wheeled leather travel bag that must have cost a small fortune. Designed to
carry essentials that met airline requirements, it was large enough to hold
items a traveler wouldn’t want to check, like a laptop.

“Now that is a handy gift.” Drew inspected the finely tooled
leather bag with approval. “Flying commercial nowadays with all that
security.”

“Appreciate it.” Jay meant it. “I’ll put it to good use.”

There were gifts from Susanna’s parents and her in-laws: a
practical travel pet-care kit and a necktie carrier. He liked the closeness of
this family, the generations that were all an active part of one another’s
lives.

When he watched the way everyone interacted with Charles and
Karan, he knew that Susanna understood the concept of family-by-love, as she
called it, the only family he had nowadays except for Drew.

But the running theme through all these gifts told him Susanna
had been the one to suggest them. All were useful for a man getting ready to cut
ties with everything he’d known. And she knew what that would entail
firsthand.

She obviously cared so much.

“Here’s Jay’s stocking stuffer,” Brooke announced. “From Mom,
Brandan and me.”

“Now when did you all find time to shop for me?” Jay asked.
“You haven’t stopped running since you got here.”

Brendan shook his head. “No clue, dude.”

Jay laughed.

Brooke scowled at her brother. “Come on, Jay. Open it.”

The box contained a travel coffee cup and a hefty supply of VIA
in several varieties.

“The coffee’s from Brandon.” Brooke scowled at her brother, who
shrugged.

“Caffeine no matter where I am. Thanks,” Jay said.

“So what was your contribution?” Brandon asked his sister. “You
tied the bow?”

“I took the photo, thank you very much.”

“Photo?” Jay inspected the travel cup and encased securely
behind hard plastic was indeed a photo that had been sized to fit around the
entire cup. A photo of tiny smiling faces.

The Arbors’ staff.

Walter came up beside him. “I’m there behind Tessa.”

Jay turned the cup and identified the faces of every one of his
staff. Administrators. R.N.s. LPNs. PCTs. Dietary. Aides. Housekeepers. Laundry.
The guys in maintenance and engineering huddled around Chester.

He was silent so long that when he did finally glance up, that
blush was back in Susanna’s cheeks, and she jumped to fill the quiet. “I know
it’s not as amazing as hosting my first Christmas in Charlotte in your
antebellum plantation. But I wanted you to take away something that will remind
you everything’s fine where you left it.”

God, how did he even respond to such caring?

“When did you get everyone together—” He stopped. “
How
did you manage to get everyone together?”

“We helped,” Drew said.

Charles nodded. “Each of us grabbed a radio and manned a
nurses’ station to hold down the fort. Staff on shift was gone maybe ten minutes
tops. You should have seen the stampede getting everyone back inside.”

As a doctor, Charles understood better than most what pulling
staff off the floor involved, but Jay had also been referring to the fact that
everyone off shift would have had to come in on their days off, before or after
their shifts, all to crowd together and smile for a ten-minute photo.

For him.

Humbled didn’t even begin to describe how he felt. He met
Susanna’s gaze, noticed the color high in her cheeks, wasn’t concerned who saw
how much he cared.

“Thank you.”

For caring enough to reassure him.

For giving him a Christmas filled with laughter.

For bringing him back to life.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

A
FTER
SPENDING
THE
better part of two weeks living in Jay’s house for the holidays,
Susanna was ready to head back to her cottage. Not because she didn’t love his
house. Living there had come too easily, if anything, as though once she’d cut
ties with her life in New York, she instinctively needed to set roots down
elsewhere. Jay’s house had been easy to fill with happy family memories. But the
holidays were over and everyone had gone home.

Jay would be leaving, too.

Northstar had been pushing to get the acquisition date on the
calendar, so they had a date in writing only eight weeks away. Gerald and VIPs
from the partners would be flying in to sign the final papers.

So, in self-defense, she sent her kids back to school, packed
her bags and told Jay it was time to go home.

He hadn’t asked her to stay.

Something had changed between them during the holidays,
something that had her clinging to whatever distance she could keep between
them, which wasn’t much. Not when they returned to doing everything
together—working, eating, making love, sleeping then awakening to start the
cycle all over again.

That
something
had the opposite
effect on Jay. He possessed their every second together as if afraid to miss
even one.

After work, anyway.

At work, he’d become even more of a handful.

Such as the day during the second week of the quarantine to
contain an airborne virus making the rounds through all three floors and turning
an active facility into a ghost town.

Jay encountered Nancy, a PCT scheduled in the north wing,
maneuvering Mr. Parrish from bed to wheelchair in the Hoyer lift. He showed up
in Susanna’s office, as handsome as always with his crisp shirt and tie at odds
with his scowl.

“Kimberly told me you sent Ryan home,” he said.

“I did.”

“He was scheduled seven to three today.”

She nodded. “He wanted to take his motorcycle to the
dealer.”

“That’s what days off the schedule are for.”

Susanna leaned back in her chair and steepled her hands before
her, racking her brain for the most diplomatic way to phrase an admission Jay
wouldn’t want to hear. She settled on, “The numbers were off on the
profit-and-loss report. Ryan was willing to work less than eight hours which
helped me shave a bit off the payroll variance.”

Jay stared, long and hard enough to give Susanna ample
opportunity to brace herself for the coming argument. And the way he bristled in
his neat sports jacket broadcasted loud and clear that an argument was
coming.

“Let me get this straight,” he said. “I don’t have a PCT on
first shift to help move Mr. Parrish so we can balance the profit-and-loss
report?”

“Cost overrun.”

“That’s only because we had extra expenditures with Christmas
and Mrs. Harper’s new wheelchair.”

Susanna spread her hands in entreaty. “I understand, but the
numbers were off. I have to rein them in the way I see best, otherwise Northstar
will dictate what to cut.”

“Christmas is over and Mrs. Harper won’t need another
wheelchair. The numbers will be on again this report.”

Susanna wished the resolution were so simple. Jay took a
liberal perspective on profit and loss. What didn’t balance one quarter would
balance the next. Northstar tended toward a more controlled perspective because
they reported to many partners.

“All three floors are quarantined with the virus. Ryan
appreciated the time, Jay. I made sure I wasn’t depriving him of hours.
Apparently the dealer isn’t open for service on Saturdays, and he has classes at
night so it’s almost impossible for him to get in for service after a
shift.”

“We schedule a man specifically to insure we have help with the
Hoyer lift.”

“Women can work it.”

“But the bigger men like Mr. Parrish and Mr. Wells don’t feel
comfortable with a woman. They don’t understand how the transfer equipment
works. All they see is the floor underneath them. They don’t want to break
anything. You understand that.”

“Of course I do.” No arguing Jay’s perspective with his focus
on individual residents. “But that’s what we’re here for—to help them understand
and reassure them. As I’m sure you did.”

His expression set in granite, which told her he had indeed
explained and reassured but didn’t want to admit it. He wasn’t backing down.
“What happens when I’m not here?”

Her heart would break all over again. That’s what would happen,
and Susanna had no one but herself to blame. Because she couldn’t enjoy a fling
like a normal person.

She’d given in to her attraction to this younger man, knowing
he was going off to sow his oats, and her one wild and crazy attempt to savor
the moment setting her up for heartbreak.

And failure. Because at the rate they were going, the final
acquisition may never happen. And if the acquisition didn’t happen, this man she
cared so deeply for would be miserable.

“Jay.” Susanna injected every shred of patience she possessed
into her voice. “I understand your concern. Ryan would have been best-case
scenario. But we have the proper equipment, the properly trained staff. When
you’re not here, I will be.”

But judging by his reaction, as if the top of his head might
blow off, he didn’t need the reminder. She kept her mouth shut and waited for
him to make the next move, for him to back down or to explode or to work through
whatever his issue was.

God, Susanna hated this. She’d been killing herself to control
the budget variance. Even Walter had complimented her in front of Jay for her
ingenuity in controlling the internal supplies variance. She gotten a local
church’s shawl club to contribute colored lap robes to match the flowers Mrs.
Selmon wore in her hair.

And the coffee...Jay himself admitted even the best blend
tasted terrible brewed in bulk, so coffee was a great place to trim more excess
so the effect wasn’t as noticeable.

Nothing she did was good enough. Not because of her efforts but
because Jay didn’t know what he wanted.

He half sat on her desk, folded his arms over his chest and
glanced down at her, clearly managing to rein in his reaction. “You saw an
opportunity to cut the numbers and took it. You weren’t invasive, so I should be
reassured, right?”

He was asking her? Crazy man. “Yes, you should.”

“All right. I should trust that you’re looking after the best
interests of this place and let you do your job.”

There was another question in there, a problem, too, but
Susanna wouldn’t point out what Jay was missing.

No, she tipped her face to his and stole a kiss before he
headed to therapy to insure everyone was making good use of the downtime during
the quarantine. The man was a complete control freak.

Therein lay the problem.

Jay was The Arbors. Susanna worked for Northstar. There would
always be a disconnect, a potential conflict, much in the way there was conflict
now.

Professionally, she needed to transform The Arbors into a
Northstar property.

Personally, she wanted to live up to Jay’s vision of the
personalized care for his residents.

Sometimes the two came hand in hand. Sometimes not.

Swinging her chair around with a sigh, she stared out into the
crisp wintry morning, so many winter branches bare, such a marked difference
from the explosion of autumn colors that had surrounded the lake when she’d
arrived.

She wished they could go back to that companionable working
relationship they’d had in the beginning. Jay had been so pleased with the skill
set she displayed before discovering her lack of memory-care experience. Before
they’d complicated everything by breaching professionalism and becoming
involved.

But Susanna also knew she hadn’t been implementing changes back
then. She’d been conducting performance evaluations of the staff and monitoring
variance information. Jay would have to know that she’d get to budget
justification. Walter had.

Yes, their relationship may have complicated the issues, but
their closeness had also given Susanna insight. The conflict originated with the
changes no matter how minute they were.

So why was Jay selling this property again?

There was much more to the answer than Jay had shared. So much
more than he knew, she suspected. But she hated watching him struggle this hard.
What he said about the sale and the way he behaved weren’t related. She didn’t
know why and would never get the chance to help.

Tearing her gaze from the window, she took action to tackle her
anxiety and keep his imminent departure a reality. The time had come to file her
official recommendation for his house.

The quarantine provided the perfect opportunity. The therapy
schedule and activities calendar had come to an abrupt stop as residents were
confined to their rooms to keep those who didn’t already have the virus from
contracting it.

Tessa and Shirley seized the opportunity to remove the last of
the holiday decorations. Maintenance and engineering were painting and rewiring
the dining rooms that normally couldn’t be out of commission for more than a few
hours between common meals. Susanna would complete this report without all the
usual distractions.

After staying in the house, she was recommending providing
another level of service of limited support for couples where one spouse was
demonstrating the beginning stages of Alzheimer’s. Northstar could staff the
house minimally and provide access to the ALF when the residents needed step-up
care. Of course, that option would mean significant renovations to bring the
house up to code, combining charming bedrooms with their whimsical mantels into
suites and eliminating the glorious winding staircase to provide elevator
access.

And that would be such a loss.

But that was only personal reluctance from the woman who’d
brought her family into Jay’s home to share a wonderful holiday.

The professional businesswoman couldn’t be concerned with
antique mantels or staircases from another era. Not when there would be
underutilized square footage on the property.

Her problem was a division of loyalties.

She would do everything in her power to uphold Jay’s ideal, but
when push came to shove, her loyalties must be to the company that paid her
salary and provided health-care coverage for herself and her kids.

Not to the man who held her during the night.

* * *

W
HEN
M
RS
. H
ARPER
’
S
family asked Jay to arrange for a local priest to
visit, he wasn’t surprised. Mrs. Harper hadn’t gotten out of bed for the past
few days. She wasn’t sick, just winding down, as his grandmother used to say.
Another of those euphemisms to sugarcoat reality.

The active woman who’d been acquainted with every duck on the
property looked so tiny in her bed. Jay went to kneel beside her, gently
awakened her to announce her visitor.

“Father’s here to visit,” Jay said, not knowing if Mrs. Harper
would comprehend. She was weak and her memory was hit or miss on a good day. The
progression of Alzheimer’s hadn’t outpaced her declining health. She’d been
lucky in that regard.

She opened her eyes with effort and when her lips moved dryly,
he reached for the moistener on the side table. But Susanna was already there,
tearing open the packaging, extracting the swab to moisten Mrs. Harper’s
lips.

Jay had to lean close when she asked, “My rosary beads.”

A good day.

He reached for the top drawer of the nightstand, where he knew
she kept the case, but again Susanna was there, handing him the strand of blue
glass beads.

Pressing them into Mrs. Harper’s fragile hands, Jay gave a
reassuring squeeze then stood and stepped aside.

The priest took things from there, providing the Sacrament of
the Sick then praying with Mrs. Harper while Jay and Susanna stood behind him,
joining in the prayers they knew, sharing in the “Amen” when they didn’t.

Mrs. Harper clung to the priest’s hands and seemed strengthened
when she whispered loud enough for them to hear, “Thank you, Father. God has
been so good to me.”

A miracle that she remembered God. Susanna apparently thought
so, too, because Jay glanced down to find her expression cast in marble, her
blue eyes glinting suspiciously as she fought back tears.

He wanted to slip his arm around her, to comfort her from this
rare display of emotion. But he had no right to touch her in the one place they
spent more time than any other.

Theirs was not a public relationship, but a private one, and as
such he had to curb his need and allow the priest to be the one to gently touch
Susanna’s shoulder and say, “She’ll be in good hands. I promise.”

* * *

S
USANNA
AWOKE
IN
THE
dark of late night and
instinctively bolted across the bedroom before sleep cleared and her brain
finally caught up.

Nausea. Big-time.

She made it to the bathroom, and by the time she was curled up
in a fetal ball on the bathroom rug, she knew she’d rather die than have to drag
herself up and be sick one more time.

She lay there shivering, too weak to reach up and grab a towel
to cover her, would rather freeze than move. Some vague place in her memory
remembered what it felt like to be alone and miserable. She’d had a life before
Skip had gotten sick, before every minute of every day had become urgent, a
lesson in not letting a precious moment pass unlived while surviving on one
income, with one car, with one parent trying to be in three places at once with
two children who needed two parents.

Even through her sick haze, she knew life hadn’t always been
that way. She hadn’t always been alone. Once upon a time she’d been part of a
happy family, when the kids had been little and their days full of caring for
each other, enjoying each other, living and loving and
living...