The Time of Her Life by Jeanie London Page A

wouldn’t remember by now. Susanna must not be familiar with the extent
of Mrs. Harper’s dementia. There were a hundred and twenty residents here, each
with a unique set of circumstances and a debilitating disease that progressed
differently in each and every person. It would take time for Susanna to learn
the nuances of each resident.
    “Winnie calmed her down,” he said. “If her son calls, you could
explain to him. Might be a good opportunity to introduce yourself. I’d be
surprised if he called, though. He knows if there’s a real problem, I’ll let him
know.”
    Susanna’s big, blue eyes softened, and Jay thought she looked a
bit relieved.
    “So what does she do with all that bread?”
    “Feeds the ducks. That’s where she goes every morning after
breakfast before she says her rosary. Down to the lake.”
    “By herself?”
    While confusion was a standard state of affairs around here,
Jay only expected to encounter it in the residents.
    “I don’t think she has her own passcode, but if I find out
differently we’ll reprogram the system,” he said lightly.
    She made a face, clearly not amused. “Who goes with her?”
    “One of the staff takes her. Usually Tessa or Shirley while
everyone is at breakfast, but if they’re not available, then Amber takes her. Or
Walter. I’ve gone with her, too. We send whoever can be spared.”
    “Have you ever approached Mrs. Harper’s son about providing the
services of a personal aide like Winnie? Winnie herself might even be available
a few extra hours a week since she’s already here.”
    For a suspended moment, Jay simply looked at her. Then it
clicked. Susanna was worried about the payroll.
    He cut her off at the pass. “Mrs. Harper is ninety-three years
old. Half the time she can’t remember her own name let alone her son and
daughter-in-law’s. But she remembers to bring bread to those ducks every morning
because she knows they expect her. Not only is the exercise good for her, but
Liz doesn’t have to waste bread that doesn’t get eaten. From start to finish the
event takes thirty minutes at the most.”
    She frowned, but Jay wouldn’t back down on this one. Mrs.
Harper was more independent than most of the residents, and her family didn’t
need the added expense of an aide for one daily trip outdoors.
    Northstar was supposed to be in the business of upscale senior
living. The property administrator they’d sent should know The Arbors wasn’t in
the business of nickel and diming the residents. And a woman who ran a
memory-care facility shouldn’t need a lecture about what Alzheimer’s cost its
victims. Mrs. Harper had lost her family and friends, had lost herself on most days. Feeding the ducks was a big deal
to her, one that put a smile on her face and made her feel good.
    “I need a classification for the reports, Jay.”
    He detected a hint of annoyance in her tone. “Classify it as
physical therapy, then, but it’s really quality of life, Susanna. That’s what we
provide at The Arbors.”
    Period.
    * * *
    B Y THE TIME S USANNA had completed the financial review with
Walter, she was not only impressed by that dear gentleman’s skill at integrating
financial and operational measures, but at her own progress managing stress. To
be fair, her progress likely had to do with long hours spent analyzing Walter’s
performance measurement system and discussing how the acquisition would impact
the financial structuring of The Arbors.
    Walter possessed a lovely blend of modern and traditional
financial leadership skills, balancing complex tasks of management and
investment analysis while still acting as a conventional guardian and advocate
of good planning.
    Walter understood that certain things would change after the
acquisition by necessity. He also corroborated her own suspicion about Jay’s
concern about losing control.
    “Boy’s between a rock and a hard place,” Walter had told her.
“He’s alone running this place since his parents died,