by Suzi Weinert
“We’ve arranged for Mom to live right across the street from our house in Virginia the first three months, while we find senior housing she really likes. She’ll have a break after the move before the apartment decision.”
“Feeling okay otherwise? No dizziness? No falls?” He checked her ankles. “No swelling. That’s good.” With his stethoscope, he listened to her heart and consulted her chart. “Looks like your mammograms are current. Also flu and pneumonia shots. Seems you weathered your ER visit surprisingly well. We’ll draw some blood for a check, but you look good and sound alert, Fran.” He turned to Jennifer. “If you’ll step out I’ll do a quick EKG to check her a-fib.”
While the nurse affixed the EKG leads on Frances, Jennifer followed Grantlan into the hall. “This is the first time I’ll be responsible for a senior. Anything I should watch for?”
Dr. Grantlan studied her a moment. “I actually see some elderly patients suffering from neglect, so I’m glad to help a daughter who wants to act responsibly. Knowing when to stop driving is important, but apparently, that’s solved for Frances. Many seniors don’t ask loved ones for help because they want to feel and act independent or they’re experiencing early dementia or they’re just plain stubborn.”
Jennifer chuckled. She knew about stubborn from her mother’s years of resisting a move north.
“Some don’t visit their doctor regularly because they forget or it’s too complicated to arrange transportation, so they miss flu and pneumonia shots and other prevention that could prolong health. Some are shy about admitting personal problems to health care providers—things like constipation or sexual and urinary difficulties.”
Jennifer nodded. “That could be true at other ages, as well.”
“Yes, but it can get serious fast for the elderly, as can jaw pain or stomach upsets. We need such information for correct diagnosis and treatment, but older folks don’t always volunteer all those puzzle pieces.”
“Why?”
“Maybe they’re embarrassed to admit they didn’t understand or can’t remember dosage instructions or timing of medications or other treatments. Or sometimes they understand well enough, but forget to do it. Sometimes they try to fight the appearance of aging like refusing hearing aids, or canes and walkers, or dentures and eyeglasses—all of which could improve their quality of life. So look for signs of new behavior or changing health. Try to find a geriatrician for her if you can.”
“A geriatrician?”
“Yes, a medical doctor trained to meet older folk’s special health needs. The elderly often have a number of health problems requiring several medications. Diseases and meds affect seniors differently. A geriatrician looks out for the whole person, not just treating one illness or another. They’re board certified plus take additional training for geriatric certification.”
“Are they easy to find?”
“Unfortunately, there’s a shortage of them now at the very time our older population needs even more. A third of seventy-four million Americans who will be over sixty-five in 2030 will have health problems a geriatrician could help best. My nurse can give you some computer links to look for one in your area.
“Thank you, Doctor, for taking extra time to explain this.”
The nurse opened the treatment room door. “We’re ready for the EKG, Doctor.”
Before starting the machine, he said, “Okay, Frances. Your daughter’s outside, giving us a few minutes to talk privately. Are you okay with this move?”
“It’s a big effort, but I think it’s the right choice. Of course, I don’t want to fold my tent and take it on the road, but at my age, anything could happen and eventually something will. I should live near Jen then, for her sake as well as mine.”
“No coercion? No intimidation?” She shook her head. “Any new physical problems? Anything you want to tell me.”
“No, but thanks for watching out for me all these years.” She patted his arm.
“Now stay quiet while I do the EKG.”
A few minutes later when he finished, she asked, “By the way, can you recommend a new doctor in McLean and should I take my medical records with me today?”
“I’ve suggested a geriatrician to your daughter and links to find one. Ask your new doctor to request your records from our office to avoid the per page charge you’d have now. Be sure Marilyn knows how to reach you up north.”
“Thank you and thanks again for your good care for so long a time.”
“My pleasure, Frances. Stay well.”
“May I give you a goodbye hug?”
After the embrace, he patted her arm and grinned. “You make the most of this new adventure in Virginia.”
In the car, Frances mused. “Such a nice man and a good doctor. After thirty years, he and his staff almost feel like family. And did you notice all the tall, healthy plants in his waiting room?”
Jennifer gave her mother a sharp look. “Ah…because?”
“Because Erma Bombeck says, ‘Never go to a doctor whose house plants have died.’”
Jennifer shot her a look and, seeing her mother was serious about this, choked back a laugh until her eyes watered. Though managing to retain her grip on the wheel, she couldn’t stifle a strangled-sounding cough.
“Are you all right, dear?”
“Yes, thanks,” Jennifer croaked, grateful to stop at a red light while she regained control.
The doctor’s plants she’d noticed were artificial.
CHAPTER 28
Jennifer waited at the bank while her mother and a teller entered the vault. Surprised at the bulge in the bag her mother toted when she emerged, Jennifer wondered about the contents. As they reached the car, her cellphone rang.
“Hi, Becca…. Okay, tonight…. Wait I need to copy this. Yes, I’ll wait in the cellphone lot. Call me when you’re outside the airport front door. Safe trip, sweetie, and thanks for doing this.”
Back at home she asked, “Do you want to go through these things now, Mom, or put the bag directly into the safe?”
“Why don’t we do it together? Then you’ll know about the safe and the combination.”
Upstairs at home, Frances pulled out a file drawer. “We didn’t file it under “S” for Safe because a thief would look there first. We considered “W” for Wall-safe, but Dad said it’s too obvious. So we settled on…wait, what was it? Ah yes, “T” for This-and-That. Nobody would guess that one.”
Jennifer winced. “You’re right, Mom. Nobody would.” But a new worry pushed aside these otherwise amusing eccentricities. Her parents’ wacky filing system and weird hiding places complicated preparing belongings for the sale. Now she’d need to check inside and underneath every single item before “clearing” it. Thank goodness Becca would arrive soon.
“Could you please help me move this small bookcase, dear?” Behind it, Frances lifted away the large rectangle of wallboard, revealing the door of an imbedded safe the size of a dorm-size mini-fridge. “This came with the house when we bought it.” She pulled a slip of paper close to her eyes, squinted and read the combination’s numbers as Jennifer rotated the safe’s dial. “Should open now when you turn to the right.” The door swung forward. “Please put this card back in the filing cabinet before the combination gets lost.”
Stifling a giggle, Jennifer turned to the “T’s” and refiled the card. “Do you want to pour the lock-box stuff on the bed and put it in the safe piece-by-piece?”
“Do we have time before the first real estate visit?”
“No, it’s 2:45. The first one’s due in only fifteen minutes. Why don’t we use that time to clean up the money on the study floor?”
“Let’s put the bag in the safe first.”
Just as they pushed back the bookcase, the doorbell rang. Jennifer ran down the stairs, her mother close behind.
“Hello,” Jennifer said, opening the front door.
“Hello,” I’m Mona Giuseppe from Ferrero Real Estate. I’m early but I finished with another client sooner
than expected.”
“Well, I…” Jennifer thought of the money scattered on the study floor. ”I guess it’s okay. Come in. I’ll get my mother.”
When they assembled around the kitchen table, Mona opened her notebook. “First I’ll get the facts I need. Square footage?”
“5,000 square feet,” Grammy supplied, turned off by the agent’s ultra-high heels, plunging neckline, garish make-up and powerful perfume.
“How old is your house?”
“Forty years. I’ve lived here thirty of those years,” Frances supplied.
“Number of bedrooms and bathrooms?”
“Four bedrooms, four and a half bathrooms.”
“Den?” Grammy nodded. “Enclosed lanai?” Another nod. “Property size?”
“Half acre.”
“Type of heat?”
“Electric.”
“Garage?”
“Two car plus workshop.”
“Window treatments and chandeliers convey?” At Grammy’s nod, the agent snapped her notebook shut. “Okay, now give me a quick tour.”
Jennifer and her mother exchanged frowns at this agent’s appearance and her “it’s-all-about-me” attitude.
“You take her around, Jen. I’ll wait in the study.” She gave her daughter a meaningful look, which Jennifer deduced meant her mother would pick up the scattered money before they got there. She led the way upstairs, where the agent asked brisk questions while looking impatiently at her watch. They toured the downstairs and garage and returned to the kitchen table. The agent withdrew papers from her briefcase.
“Here’s our contract. Sign here…” She pointed. Jennifer and her mother stared at the woman.
“What price would you propose to put my house on the market?”
“Well, I’d have to check comparables at the office to give you a figure, but I guess around $500,000. Pricing it low is good for both of us because it sells quickly so you get your money and I get my commission.”
Frances tapped the pen on the contract. “Houses on this block are similar in age and size, and one is for sale down the street. Do you know what they’re asking?”
Mona shifted impatiently and snapped, “I told you I won’t know until I check comparables.”
“Where are you from?”
“Jersey.”
“How long have you been a real estate agent?”
“A year.”
“How many houses have you sold?”
Mona shifted uncomfortably. “What is this, Twenty Questions?”
“I want to know about you and your company to decide who to choose to sell my house.”
“Okay, okay. I sold two houses but I only worked part time for six months. So two houses in six months is pretty good, huh? Here’s where you sign.”
“You know, dear, turns out I may rethink selling the house. Sorry to have taken your time but I’m not ready to sign today.”
Mona stood, incensed. “As a matter of fact, you have wasted my time and I don’t appreciate it. I’ll let myself out.”
As the front door slammed, silence filled the kitchen. Finally, Jennifer chuckled, “Was that the real estate agent from hell?” They dissolved in laughter.
Through tears of mirth, Frances managed, “I don’t have your imagination, but even I can invent a ‘what’s-their-story?’ explanation about her.”
“Okay, let’s hear it.” Jennifer folded her arms across her chest.
“Her Mafia boyfriend from New Jersey started a new operation in Naples and brought her along. But lounging at the pool and shopping bored her so she badgered him to find something for her to do. To quiet her he said if she took the real estate test he’d provide her clients from his Mafia friends who moved here.” They both giggled. “She passed the real estate exam on the third try, but just barely. Now she’s loose in public and we were her first non-Mafia test.”
They doubled over with laughter. Jennifer managed, “And the next agent’s due in ten minutes. What will happen then? As the Vikings say, ‘shields up.’” They giggled again.
CHAPTER 29
When the bell chimed, they both went to the door.
“Hello, I’m Joan Langley from Langley Properties,” said the professionally dressed woman. “Here for our 4:30 appointment.”
They introduced themselves and invited her in.
Joan smiled and glanced around. “Your home looks lovely, and this familiar neighborhood has many positive memories for me. Growing up, I often visited relatives living down the block. Did you know them? Scott and Wendey Langley?”
“Oh, the Langleys. Yes, we played bridge together in the old days. Small world.”
“That means you’ve lived here awhile. What’s changed your mind about staying in Florida?”
“In a few weeks I move north to settle near my daughter and her family.”
“A lot of folks do just that. Hard to leave Florida’s climate, but nearness to family is the right decision for many seniors. How might I help you accomplish this?”
“For starters, we’d like to know about you, your company and what price you suggest we ask.”
“Let’s talk about your second question first. I came prepared with a CMA–a comparative market analysis for your neighborhood. A house down the street, similar to yours, is priced at $925,000 and three have sold in the immediate area for $889,000, $909,000 and $913,000.” She showed them the printed page of information. “Notice how little the selling prices differ from the original asking price? You said you’ll move in a few weeks. Summer in Naples may be off-season, but many property-hunters come now to buy instead of the winter, to avoid the in-season crowds. You’re in a coveted location, right off US 41, so that’s a plus. I’ll have a better price idea after walking through your house. While other houses nearby are similar age and size, some have upgrades that others don’t.
“Now for your question about me. You might say I was born into the business because my last name is the same as my company’s name. I’ve been a licensed, full time agent for fifteen years. My primary area of expertise is Naples and Bonita Springs, although Langley Properties deals in multiple listings in Florida and around the country. If we decide to work together, Langley would advertise your property weekly on Craigslist plus newspapers in Naples, Ft. Myers and Marco Island. Also, real estate periodicals and direct mailings to people who’ve asked us to tell them about houses available in certain neighborhoods. I’ve sold thirty houses in the last twelve months and can offer you referral names. Other questions?”
Like Frances, Jennifer sat back, impressed at this jaw-dropping difference from their previous agent interview. Reaching for her list of questions, she found most already answered. At last she said, “What sets you apart from other agents? Why should we choose you?”
“A smart question. I know my job extremely well, work at it fulltime and have a proven track record of success for fifteen years. Having lived here most of my life, I know Naples. Making my clients happy and treating them fairly are my prime focus. Our company has references to title companies, closing attorneys and mortgage brokers for your buyer. We also have outreach to painting, plumbing and electrical contractors, carpenters, roofers, HVAC, movers, estate sale companies and landscape professionals.”
“Have you references?”
“The client names I’ll offer you I think will confirm I’m honest, capable, a good communicator and negotiator, quick to return calls or e-mails and committed to client satisfaction. If we decide to work together, please study my contract or run it past your lawyer. No need to sign it in haste, but I begin working for you once we have a signed agreement. Then I’d take still pictures of your house, inside and out, as well as recording a videoed on-line tour for prospective buyers.”
Jennifer glanced at her to-do list. “I’d appreciate your mover leads and estate sale company list.”
Frances added, “Maybe I’ll think of some questions while we tour the house. Jen, will you please lead the way?”
They
started upstairs, where Joan made positive observations about each room and asked a few questions. When they finished the tour Joan said, “Thanks for your time. I would be happy to sell your home. Let me know if you want to talk further.” She gathered her briefcase and turned to leave. “The housing market here recovers fast from national blips because Naples is a go-to destination—and not just for the climate or the Gulf. The medical community promotes Naples’ top-notch medical care plus a pleasant place to convalesce. And what attracted all those high-caliber doctors? The climate, the beauty and an endless supply of retirees for their patients. Here’s my business card. I hope to hear from you soon.”
Grinning, Frances stepped forward. “Joan, I think I’d like you to sell my house.”
Jennifer added quickly, “Yes, please leave us your contract and your client referral list.”
Frances said, “To speed things along, could you meet with us tomorrow or the next day to work out details?”
“If we give you an empty house in two to three weeks, can you work that fast?” Jennifer asked.
Joan consulted her calendar. “Yes, I can. How about tomorrow at 4:30? Will that give you time enough?”
They nodded in unison.
As they closed the front door, Frances answered the ringing phone. “Hello, this Flora Finney, your six o’clock real estate agent appointment. Someone just ran into my car at an intersection so may I reschedule?”
“Sorry, Flora, but I’ve just chosen an agent. Thanks anyway for your interest.” Hanging up, she turned to Jennifer and added with a pixie expression. “Was that fate at work?”
“Almost, Mom. Fate is what you’re given. Destiny is what you do with it.”
CHAPTER 30
“Mom, it’s almost 6:00. Becca arrives at 7:30 and the airport’s about thirty minutes away. She won’t have had dinner. Would you like to come with me to get her or stay here and rest? And shall we all go out to a late dinner or have something here?”
