Page 92 of Look on the Bright Side

“I was just passing by,” Joy said. “I have a home in Wellfleet, but maybe I wanted to check this place out. You know.”

“Of course!” said the woman. “Let me get Vicki for you. And hello, handsome! What’s your name?”

“Connery. Like Sean,” Joy said. The girl looked blank, and Joy sighed. Kids today.

A moment later, a woman about Joy’s age came out of an office. She was dressed to kill—beige suit that looked amazing against her brown skin, but which would’ve made Joy look washed out. She had close-cropped gray curls, tortoiseshell glasses, high heels…supersophisticated.

“I’m Vicki Simpson, the manager here,” she said.

“Joy Deveaux. And this is Connery.”

“Hello, Connery! I’d be more than happy to show you around. Our sales director is off today, but we’re thrilled you’re here. Are you looking for yourself or someone else?” They walked down the hall, Connery practically skipping alongside them.

“Possibly my mother,” Joy said, though she’d stab herself in the face before bringing her mother within a thousand miles of her. “She’s quite senile.” If only that were true. Mama had turned meaner in her old age and loved nothing more than to bring up Joy’s failings as a daughter, starting from when Joy was around three and didn’t fit into an Easter dress Mama had made. Another unpleasant topic was how wonderful Daddy had been. Joy would say, “Was it wonderful when he broke your arm?” or “Like that Christmas when he knocked out two of your teeth?” and Mama would hang up on her. It was proof of life, at least.

Bayview was swanky, that was for sure. There was a media room with plush recliners and a big screen, a game room, art room, music room. A dining hall that was quite attractive, overlooking the golf course. A library with a big fireplace.

“As you can see, our residents really enjoy the space,” Vicki said. It seemed true…everyone who saw them smiled, and one guy winked at Joy. His wife glared at her, as if Joy was the one at fault. Lady, please, she thought. I could do a lot better than your husband.

They went into the model home. Yep. Staged. There was a rather ugly modern light fixture over the dining table, a navy blue couch in the living room, big candles in the fireplace. Some boring-looking books on the built-in shelves. Meh. She could definitely add a little flair. For some reason, there was a bowl of real lemons on the marble counter. At least a dozen.

“Don’t those rot?” Joy asked.

“Oh, um…I imagine someone comes in and takes care of that. Have you thought about your own housing plans?” Vicki asked.

“I live on Chequessett Neck Road in Wellfleet,” she said, having learned that the address usually got some admiration.

“Very nice,” Vicki said. “And you’ll be able to stay there as you get older?”

“Mm-hmm.” She had no plans to get that much older. If the day came when she couldn’t make herself a gin and tonic and shop on the internet, she’d just swim out to the horizon or, more likely, toss back some sleeping pills with a vodka chaser. She looked down the hallway to a set of doors. “What’s down there?”

“That’s our Memory Care Unit,” Vicki said. “Alzheimer’s, dementia, folks who need closer supervision. Maybe that would be appropriate for your mother?”

Hell would be appropriate for her mother, but Joy said, “Possibly.”

This section was equally posh, but the residents were neither coming nor going. Many were in wheelchairs, and Joy’s immediate impression was…well…not to be too self-involved, but holy crap! She was young compared to these folks!

“Hello, beautiful lady,” said one little old man. “Would you like to date me?”

“Oh! No, but thanks,” Joy said. “I’m flattered.”

“Bob here is our resident flirt,” Vicki said. She closed the hallway door behind her. “You can see we have excellent security measures so no one wanders off,” she added in a lower voice. “Bob, how are you today?”

“I’m sad and bored,” he said. “Can I go home? Or would this beautiful lady like to date me?”

“A dog!” said one woman. “Is this my dog? Can I keep this dog?”

Over my dead body, Joy thought. “This is Connery.”

Connery put his gentle paws against the woman, who started to cry with happiness. “I love you,” she said. “Thank you! I can’t believe you’re here!”

“Florence loves animals,” Vicki said.

Connery moved to the next patient and nuzzled his leg, and the gentleman automatically reached down to pet him. Another resident came out of his room, moving slowly with his walker, to see Connery.

Vicki smiled and sighed simultaneously. “Sorry, we just lost an activities director and we haven’t filled the position yet. There’s not usually so many folks just…hanging around. We pride ourselves on keeping our residents engaged and active.”

“What kind of activities are there?” Joy asked as one woman opened her mouth wide, exposing a complete lack of teeth. Seriously, what kind of things could they do? Eat soft food? Nap? Cry?

---