Chapter 8

“Oh. My. God, this thing is heavy.” Emma stifled a grunt as she wiped her forehead and tried to push an industrial recliner down the hallway to the library later that morning. The thing had to weigh five hundred pounds, and she couldn’t figure out how someone had gotten it out of the library in the first place. It had taken her ten minutes to move it just about that many feet, and she had about a mile and a half to go, from the looks of it.

In the past three hours, she’d met twelve different Shady Acres residents, and she was no closer to finding the elusive procedures manual. However, her feet hurt from all of the walking she’d done, and right now she was inviting a hernia by trying to heft this insufferable chair down the hallway in heels and a skirt.

“Emma?”

She straightened quickly, the vibrations of that voice shooting straight to regions of her body that had no business waking up right now, thank you very much.

“Hey, Jasper. Again.”

Did the man ever leave?

He looked at her quizzically. “Didn’t realize furniture-moving was in your job description.”

“Ha. Still trying to find my job description. I’m not sure Bette realized how long a hunt she was sending me on here.”

“She probably did.” He looked down. “How exactly has this chair become part of that hunt?”

“It’s not. Archie just told me it needs to go back to the library.”

“Huh.” Jasper studied the chair for a moment, then leaned down to peer under it. He stood back up. “Did he, now?”

He was biting the inside of his cheek. She could see him.

“Jasper?”

He cleared his throat, then motioned for her to follow him.

“But—the chair.”

“Leave it. Follow me.”

She looked back as she headed after him, and cringed when she realized the stupid thing was right in the middle of the hallway now. Great. Some poor soul was going to come wheeling around the corner, and ka-bam. Pancake.

But Jasper practically lived here, it seemed, and he wasn’t concerned, so for the moment, she’d follow him.

They entered the library, which was already destined to be her favorite spot at Shady Acres, and he paused. Tall arched windows faced west toward the mountains, and sun streamed into the room, making slanted pathways of light dance on their way to the carpeted floor. Bookshelves stretched only three feet tall and started a foot off the ground, and Emma realized they’d been constructed that way so residents in wheelchairs could easily reach them.

Around the edges of the room, soft sage-colored chairs were tucked into cubbies, and laptops rested on simple Shaker-style tables. There was an air of reverence and silence that a good library demanded, and Emma was pretty sure she could spend the next twelve weeks right in this room and be perfectly happy.

Jasper pointed to a far corner, where a bald, liver-spotted head peeked over the back of an armchair.

“Is that the Archie who asked you to move the chair?”

“Do we have more than one Archie?”

He nodded as he set off toward the corner, leaving her to follow. “Actually, yes. But only one who has the energy to play tricks on the new director.”

“Tricks? What?”

Emma felt her eyes narrow as they approached Archie, but seriously, Jasper had to be kidding. Was she being hazed by the elderly? Because that would definitely be a new low.

“Hey, old man.” Jasper leaned down and spoke directly into Archie’s ear, making the poor man jump.

Archie shook his head, blinking his eyes to look from Jasper to Emma and back. “Who you calling ‘old man’?”

“You, you old cuss.”

“Oh, now you’re swearing at me?” Archie straightened up, grinning. “What’d I do? And go easy on me. Ribs, you know.” He pointed at his right side.

“You broke your left one, Archie.” Jasper crossed his arms.

“Right. I know. It’s radiating pain.” Archie moved his hand to the other side. “It’s a thing—you know, like when people lose a limb?”

“That’s called phantom pain. And it doesn’t travel between your ribs.”

“Well, anyway. Be nice. What do you want? And don’t you ever go to work?”

Emma put her hand over her mouth to cover her smile. Her question exactly.

“I do. I get up at five o’clock in the morning, long before you haul your lazy ass out of your cushy bed. I’ve been at work for hours before you even have your morning coffee. So right now, I’m on break.”

“Fine.” Archie punched his shoulder. “I’m an old, useless guy taking government handouts and waiting to die.”

Emma sucked in a startled breath. Surely the poor man didn’t think—oh, my goodness. Did they have a psychiatrist on staff? And why was Jasper being so—mean?

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Jasper?”

Archie laughed as he looked her way. “Uh-oh, Jasp. You’re in trouble now. Harassing a poor old man like this—what’s this world coming to?”

“Eh, you deserve it. And I’m pretty sure any sympathy she has for you right now will be heading straight out that window there when she hears that you’re hazing her.”

“Ah, hell.” Archie patted his ample stomach. “It was fun while it lasted.”

Emma put her hands on her hips, feeling heat rise to her cheeks. “What are we talking about, gentlemen?”

“Archie?” Jasper put his hands out, palms up. “You want to tell her why you took the procedures manual Bette gave you and put it under the hallway chair that hasn’t been moved in five years? Then asked her to move the damn thing all the way down here to the library?”

Em’s eyes were going to pop. “What?”

“Well, I didn’t think she’d do it.” Archie shrugged, still laughing. “That chair weighs a frigging ton. I figured she’d look under it for the brakes and she’d see the binder. It was inspired, really.”

“You’re an ass, Archie.” Jasper shook his head, but Emma knew it was taking a supreme effort for him not to laugh. “I can’t believe Bette made you the last stop on the getting-to-know-you tour.”

“Thank you, and she didn’t. Rosie had the binder, but I saw it on her bureau this morning, so I swiped it.”

“Because?”

“Because she would have just walked down to the office and handed it over by noon, like Bette’d told her to if Emma hadn’t found it yet. What fun is that?”

Jasper put his hands on his hips. “Seriously?”

“I would have given it to her in a while, but it was kind of fun watching her run around all morning trying to find it. Kept her out of the office, right?”

Emma swallowed, ashamed once again. Jeez, it was getting to be a habit, and she’d only been here for how long?

“Hey, Archie?” She finally spoke.

“Yeah?”

“What’s your favorite dessert?”

“Apple pie.”

“Okay. Good to know.”

His eyes narrowed. “Why?”

“Oh, no reason.” She shrugged nonchalantly as she turned. “Thought I saw it on the menu later this week. So I sure hope your dentures don’t go missing like my manual did. Might be hard to watch everybody else eat your pie.”

“Hey, sis. How’s the great white north treating you?”

Emma smiled as she put her phone to her ear Friday evening. “Not white yet, thank God. How’s my favorite sister?”

Lauren laughed. “I’m only your favorite because I haven’t shown you up with a Nobel Prize yet like Annabelle.”

“True, but you’re still my favorite. How are the kidlets?”

“Well, we’re two weeks into school, so we’ve got one ear infection, one case of strep, and one cold. Par for the course.”

“Ugh. Sorry.”

“It’s not so bad. I get to keep them home instead of sending them to school, so it’s sort of a win. Except that they feel horrible, and we haven’t slept in days. But still. All good.”

Emma smiled. “Your definition of good is a tad warped, sweetie.”

“Quite possibly.” Lauren covered the phone to say something to one of her kiddos, then came back. “I’ve got three baskets of clean laundry, and I told Mike I was going to disappear to fold clothes and talk to you. He promised me a half-hour of peace. Guess how much I’m getting?”

“Um, none?”

“All four kids are on my bed right now, in the clean laundry.”

Emma laughed, picturing the scene. “Well, at least not the dog.”

“Oh, the dog’s here, too.” Lauren laughed. “He’s in the towels.”

“And you envy Annabelle with her clean apartment and dry-cleaned clothes. Pshaw.”

Lauren was silent for a long moment. “No. I pretty much don’t envy her anything, actually.”

“Yeah, me neither.”

It was true…sort of. Emma definitely didn’t envy Annabelle’s mess-free apartment and humor-free attorney of a husband. She didn’t even envy her bank account or guaranteed retirement plan. And if she worked hard at it, she didn’t envy the twice-yearly tropical vacations Annabelle took with her college roommate.

She didn’t even envy her the body-by-Jacques that Annabelle rocked in her bikini-clad pics from those vacations.

Much.

But only if she was lying to herself would she say she didn’t envy the way Dad’s eyes lit up when he talked about Annabelle. His eyes had done that for her long ago, before…everything.

“Have you talked to her at all lately?” Lauren asked.

“Nope. I’ve left a few messages, but I guess she’s buried in her lab, curing cancer or something.”

“Selfish bitch.”

Emma laughed. “Lauren! The kids!”

“They just left. Mike banged on the mac-and-cheese pot, and the little Pavlovs went running.”

“Lock the door while you still can.”

“Tempting, believe me.” Lauren sighed. “So tell me everything. How is it, actually running the place?”

“Terrifying.”

The word was out before Emma even knew it was true, and she pulled back into her chair at the little outdoor café downtown, hoping nobody could hear her.

“Aw. First days are hard.”

“First weeks are, too.”

“How’s the staff?”

“They’re…fine. Wary of me, of course, because I’m from the big, bad home office, but they’ve been…polite.”

“So they’re not talking to you?”

“Not unless they can’t avoid it.”

And they weren’t. Not really. Save for Brandy and Katrina, most of them would answer direct questions if she asked them. And they would ask her questions if they needed something from her, but other than that, it had pretty much been radio silence.

When she was in the office, it was deserted except for a part-time receptionist who kept her earbuds in whether there was anyone on the phone or not. And when she went out onto the floors, everyone suddenly seemed to find ways to be very, very busy. She should have expected it, maybe, but it was still awkward.

“Oh, Em. I’m sorry. It’ll improve. Once they get used to you, and realize you’re not there with a hatchet or something, it’ll be better, right?”

“I have no idea. It occurred to me this afternoon that the last time they had a visit from the central office, it was part of the great staff-trimming exercise of 2014.”

“Oh. Well, that completely sucks, then. You’ll win them over, I’m sure. How are the patients?”

“The ones I’ve met are pretty great, for the most part.”

“Well, that’s good, then. You can focus on them instead, right? I mean, if you have time. I don’t know what you do all day.”

“You and me both, hon.” Emma sighed. She’d brought the ten-pound manual home with her tonight, determined to wade through it this weekend. It was currently open on the table beside her water glass.

“I honestly can’t believe they can just send in a substitute to run an entire nursing home.”

“I appreciate your vote of confidence, Annabelle.”

Lauren laughed. “Don’t call me that. I’m serious, though. It feels like it would take you three months to even figure out that job, but they’ve basically dumped you on your head there.”

“I know. But in their defense, they’re doing a lot of the legwork from Florida so I don’t have to worry about the financials or anything like that. I’m basically just a figurehead at this point.”

“Less pressure, right? Isn’t that a good thing?”

“I suppose, yes.”

“You worried that someone else is going to swoop in and steal your promotion while you’re gone?”

Emma sighed. “It’s hard not to. Galway’s a huge conglomerate. They’ve got a lot of people to choose from. I’ve always felt like I have an in because I sit right downstairs from the decision-makers, but then they sent me to Timbuktu here, so there goes my geographical advantage.”

“Just for three months. Not forever.” Lauren coughed. “Oh, no. The plague. She shared it with me.”

“How you’re ever healthy in a house full of children boggles my mind. You and Ari are a perfect pair.”

“I’m never healthy. So distract me with single-girl observations. How are the men out there in Big Sky?”

“Old and wrinkly, with a side of liver spots.”

Lauren laughed. “The men who are not residents of your facility.”

“Well, I can’t say I’ve met more than a couple.”

“And?”

Emma was silent, picturing Jasper the way she’d seen him this morning when he hadn’t known anyone was looking. She’d walked by his father’s room, then backed up guiltily when she’d spotted him. His dad had fallen asleep in his wheelchair, but instead of leaving him for the nurses to manage, Jasper had bent over and lifted him ever so carefully out of the chair, then laid him in his bed. Then he’d pulled a folded blanket from the bottom of the bed and tucked it around his dad’s shoulders and feet, pulling his glasses carefully off his face and setting them on the bedside table.

“Em?”

“Hm?”

“The men?”

“Oh. Right.” Emma shook her head. “They’re—fine. You know. Just—men.”

Lauren snorted. “And yet you’re rendered speechless?”

“Wasn’t speechless. The waitress came.” Emma rolled her eyes at her own lame lie.

“Uh-huh. So hey. Guess what I found?”

“Your left shoe?”

“No. But don’t think I’m not still mad that one of these urchins probably fed it to the dog. I was checking out Carefree earlier, just to see what’s out there, and you’ll never believe what I found.”

“Do tell.”

“Have you seen a ranch? Whisper Creek Ranch?”

“All I’ve seen is the nursing home and my hotel room, though tonight I finally discovered downtown Carefree, which is actually really, really pretty.”

It was. It reminded her of the time they’d gone up to Vermont for a ski vacation, but Mom had played sick till Dad and Annabelle were on the slopes. Then she’d dragged Emma and Lauren to the little downtown area and forced them to endure shop after shop after shop, with the promise of hot cocoa and whipped cream if they were really, really good.

They hadn’t quite lived up to her mother’s expectations, but then, they never really did. After Emma had knocked over a mannequin—because she’d been so tired she’d leaned on it, not because she’d been goofing around—and Lauren had fallen asleep under a clothing rack, Mom had finally dragged them out of the store and back to the car, fuming the entire way about behavior and embarrassing and Annabelle would never.

Story of their lives, really.

She shook her head. That was then, this was now, and all that garbage.

“Ooh! What’s downtown like? And then I’ll tell you about the ranch you have to go find.”

Emma laughed. “It kind of looks like a 1950s movie set that got left here, and the locals just decided to go with it.”

“My kind of place!”

“It is. The shops all have big windows and pretty signs, and there are whiskey barrels full of flowers, and benches every ten feet. There’s even a park right in the middle of downtown, and it’s got a bandstand in the center.”

“Wow. You’ve entered a time warp.”

“Yeah, but it’s the good kind. The pace is just—I don’t know—slower. And people just look…happy.”

Emma paused, realizing it was true. Sure, she lived in the land of sunshine, and people from all over the US and Canada came to soak up the Florida rays when it got too frigid to stand being up North. They were happy, too, but it was different. Temporary. A vacation-ish kind of happy.

But as she’d sat here at her little table people-watching for the past hour, she’d been greeted by no fewer than ten people, and they’d seemed genuine, like they didn’t recognize her but wanted her to feel welcome.

It was odd.

Good odd, but odd, nonetheless.

“Well, happy’s great, right? You could use a good dose of happy.”

Emma sighed. “I’m perfectly happy, thank you.”

“Of course you are. Smiles for miles, and all that.”

“Shut up, Lauren. I am.”

“But could you be happier?”

“Everybody could be happier. Even you, oh blissed-out, sleepless mommy-chick.”

“I am living the dream.” Lauren laughed. “Which currently includes—let me see—twenty-six individual socks with no matches. How is that even possible?”

“You’re raising octopi?”

“They eat enough. Maybe.” Emma pulled the phone away as it clattered loudly to the floor. A colorful stream of expletives followed it down. “Sorry. Roo tried to eat you.”

“Nice.” Emma pushed her plate away, trying to picture Lauren as she’d been eight years ago, a starry-eyed grad student with four job offers and the world at her feet.

Then, kids.

Now she spent her days chasing and driving and wiping and sneezing while her law degree grew mold in the basement.

“So, because I’m living vicariously, you need to head out to Whisper Creek and sign yourself up for a horseback-riding lesson one of these weekends. Go check out the website when you get back to the hotel.”

“Pretty sure me getting on a horse will have the opposite effect you’re after here.”

“You used to ride all the time.”

“Emphasis on ‘used to.’ It wouldn’t be pretty.”

“Well, the cowboys there are definitely pretty. They would give you all the impetus you need to become a real cowgirl. Think of it as part of the adventure, okay? I hereby forbid you to camp out in a dismal hotel room for the next twelve weeks.”

“I’m down to eleven. And in my defense, I’m here for a job, not an adventure.”

Lauren cleared her throat. “Yes, and if it were up to you, you’d spend every waking hour at that nursing home, hoping someone would notice your immense dedication to Galway Health and promote you to the vice president of something-or-other as compensation.”

“And that’s a bad thing? I am dedicated. I’ve been dedicated for ten years now.”

“Exactly. And as a result, you’ve had no life outside of that company. And no men.”

“Met one this week, thank you very much.”

“Under eighty?”

“I love you, Lauren. And oh gosh, the waitress is here again. I should go.”

“Busy little thing, isn’t she?”

“Ooh, signal breaking up. So sorry!”

Lauren laughed. “Fine. You don’t want to talk about men.”

“You think?”

“Yes. Just promise me you’ll at least check out the website.”

“Okay, I’ll check out the website.”

“And Em? If you see that site and aren’t intrigued enough to call or go out there, promise me you’ll have someone check your pulse.”