by Heather Hunt
“Now that’s a smart lady you have here, Jack Ellis,” Max said with a waggle of his generous eyebrows. “Ya’ll be sure to hang around for the music. We’ve got a little group starting up in about half an hour.” He grabbed up their menus and headed toward the kitchen.
“We’ll do,” Jack nodded. “You know, I believe he’s right.” Jack watched Grace with an approving stare.
“What do you mean by that?” she asked. “And stop staring, Jack Ellis,” Grace leveled him with her gaze. “You’re embarrassing me.”
“I can’t seem to help it,” he shook his head. “I was talking about you being a smart lady. I’m not so sure about the other part.”
“What do you mean?” Grace asked, a little confused.
“What you said about your tastes,” he explained. “I’m not sure I believe you when you say you have simple tastes.”
“You’re kidding, right?” she asked, her brow scrunched up in offense. “I’m about as low-maintenance as a woman can get.”
Jack watched as her fiery green eyes darkened to a deep jade. He could barely contain his amusement. Grace was so pretty when her feathers were ruffled, and he was starting to enjoy causing a little havoc in her safe, well-defined world.
“You? Low maintenance?” He could no longer hold in his amusement and let out a rumbling laugh which echoed in the spacious room. “Gracie Woodhouse, you’ve been nothing but work since you arrived!”
“I can’t help it that I broke my arm, Jack.” Her eyes filled with hurt. “You don’t have to keep carting me around, you know.”
“It’s not that, Princess.” He picked up her hand and squeezed her fingers. “Taking care of you has been the highlight of the job.”
“Then what do you mean?” Grace was itching to hear his explanation. She couldn’t fathom where he’d gotten the idea that she was high-maintenance.
“Well, I won’t say a thing about all those little outfits you wear, but as far as Mansfield Park, you’ve got some very high expectations.”
“First of all, my mother picked out those clothes,” Grace said before she thought. How ridiculous she must seem to him with that confession. For crying out loud! She was twenty-three years old! She quickly gained her composure and plunged on into the fray.
“And furthermore, the changes I’m making at Mansfield Park are necessary, Jack Ellis.” Her eyes were lit with fire by this time. “They’re not some wishy-washy whim of mine.”
He held up a hand as if to stave off her tirade, but she was beyond that point by this time.
“Those precious people have been living in practical squalor all because somebody wouldn’t stand up for them. Well, I’m here to tell you right now that I’m that person.” She took a fortifying gulp of tea and continued. “You must not think too poorly of the place. Your own grandfather is moving in next week!”
“Hold it a minute, Gracie,” Jack finally interrupted her. “I didn’t mean to make you mad. I was simply pointing out the fact that you have some grand ideas for the place. As the contractor, I have to make sure that your dream becomes reality.”
“You mean you don’t think I’m doing a sorry job?”
“On the contrary, Gracie.” He glanced toward the far end of the room where a small group was starting to set up for the music. “I’ll admit, I’ve had some reservations about your capabilities, but so far, you’re doing a great job. Now I only hope that I can live up to your expectations.”
Grace was now speechless. Didn’t he realize that he was worlds beyond her expectations...in every way she could imagine?
“Gracie?”
“Uh,” she paused. “Thank you, Jack. Your confidence really means a lot.”
“I’m glad, Gracie. I’m glad.”
A beautiful sound filled the room and Grace’s eyes moved toward the musical ensemble. A guitarist and fiddler had begun to accompany the woman playing an instrument Grace didn’t recognize. The sound was hauntingly beautiful.
“What is that?” she asked. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard anything quite like it.”
“It’s a hammer dulcimer,” Jack told her. “It’s pretty popular around here.”
“I can see why,” she said with a smile. “It’s lovely.”
“It really is,” he nodded. “The musicians around here try to keep the craft alive. It’s kind of a combination of bluegrass and Celtic tunes handed down from generation to generation.”
“I would love to learn how to play one of those,” she dragged her attention away from the musicians as a pretty college-aged girl arrived with their meal.
Jack moved his arms out of the way in order to make room for the steaming plate of food. He unwrapped Grace’s paper napkin from her silverware and handed her the fork.
“Take your time, Gracie,” he nodded toward her plate. “This is definitely something to be savored.”
“I think that I finally agree with you on something, Jack Ellis,” Grace acknowledged his comment, all the while wondering if he meant the food or their time together. As she took her first bite, she decided that she couldn’t possibly go wrong with either choice. With the beautiful music, great food, and intriguing company, there was no way she could imagine a better evening!
Chapter Four
Nurse North, Anger, and Abby
“Ladies and gentleman,” the quiet voice of Jenny, the center’s new receptionist, came across the sound system. “Kickboxing with Kira” will begin in five minutes in the Recreation Room. Everyone is invited to attend.”
In only eight weeks, Grace and her crew had made great headway toward changing the situation at Mansfield Park. The common areas were completely renovated, and one by one, the living quarters were being overhauled. New activities for the residents were in place, and her relationship with Jack seemed to be progressing nicely.
To her surprise, Grace had found a niche at the retirement home. She had become friends with Jenny and Sally and she had formed strong attachments with many of the residents. She had even become a mentor for her “Good Samaritan”, a girl named Abby Lewis.
Grace looked across her desk at Abby. The pre-teen was now a weekly volunteer at the center, and today, she was immersed in alphabetizing copies of the residents’ emergency charts.
The center’s computer system had extensive information on each resident, but Grace had decided to keep a special file on each person in the event the resident needed to be transported to the hospital or physician’s office. That way, the employee on duty could simply have a packet of pertinent information ready to send along with the ambulance crew instead of having them wait for a chart to print.
Nurse North had complained that Grace was being ridiculous, micro-managing things, but Grace knew that computers were not foolproof. There was also the probability of power outages during the ice and snow that the winter months were sure to inflict upon the tiny mountain town. The newly-installed generators would ensure that the residents’ basic needs were met, but computers and printers didn’t fall into the ‘needs’ category during emergency power outages.
“Hey, Miss Grace,” Abby asked as she looked up from a file. “Are you up for it yet?”
“What? Kickboxing?”
“Yeah.” Abby raised her arms up in a high stretch before plucking at the edge of her baby blue velour warm-up jacket. “If you’re all clear with your doctor, we could go to the class.”
“Do you enjoy kickboxing?” Grace asked. She hadn’t planned on attending the class, but if Abby was up for it, she wouldn’t complain. Both of them could use a little exercise.
“I don’t know. I’ve never really done any kind of exercise.” She looked down at the papers in front of her. “You can probably tell that from the way I look.”
“You look exactly like I did in the seventh grade, Abby,” Grace told her. “I’m not kidding. We could have been twins. Right down to the braids.” Grace nodded toward Abby’s hair and tugged on one of her own loose braids. Jack teased her when she wore them, but they kept he
r hair out of her face.
“You’re kidding!” Abby shook her head. “But you’re the bomb, Grace. You’re, like, so cool.” The girl chewed on her bubble gum for a few seconds before she continued. “There’s no way that you were ever fat.”
“Are you kidding me?” Grace stood up and performed a quick pirouette. “First of all, you’re not fat. Second, you might be surprised to know that some people think I’m fat now. My mother, for example.”
“Yours too?” Abby shook her head. “That’s all my Mom talks about. You would think that for once, she might appreciate the fact that I’m at least on the Honor Roll. Plus, I play the piano. My Dad is really cool about it, though. He just says I have big bones.”
“You’re preaching to the choir, girl,” Grace smiled at Abby as she walked around her desk. “It just happens that a kickboxing class is just what I could use right now. Nurse North has been on my case today, and I need to get rid of a little anger. I’ll just have to remember to punch with my right arm. I still have to pamper the left one.”
“Let’s get a move on then,” Abby giggled as she tossed her jacket onto the desk. “We can’t let the senior citizens show us up.”
Grace headed out of the office with Abby close behind.
“Uh, Miss Grace?”
“Yes, Abby?” Grace turned around to find the girl snickering, her hand held over her mouth. “What is it?”
“Did you know that you have a sign on your back?” The girl pointed to her back, and Grace craned her neck around to get a look.
“Here, let me,” Abby offered. She handed Grace the note which had been, unknown to Grace, attached to her shirt with a clothespin.
We need an ice cream parlor, the note read.
“Who in the world is leaving these things?” Grace let out an exasperated breath. “I’ve been finding them everywhere.”
“No idea,” Abby shrugged.
“Never mind,” Grace smiled. “Let’s go work off some steam. I’ll deal with this later.”
When they arrived at the class, Grace was surprised at the crowd. Sisters Elinor Clements and Marianne Brown were a given. Fitness fanatics that they were, Grace knew that the women wouldn’t be able to pass up the opportunity. Surprisingly, though, there were at least ten other residents in various stages of fitness...not to mention undress. Impressively, each one looked bound and determined to kick up whatever Kira had on the agenda.
This class is way past due, Grace thought to herself.
Bringing in experts from the community to start various classes had been one of the first things Grace had done once the renovations in the activity areas were complete. Many of the residents were clearly capable, not to mention interested, in maintaining active lifestyles. Their response to the kickboxing class had been proof of that. Although, as she looked around at some of the skimpier exercise outfits, Grace considered invoking a dress code. Spandex was simply not the best choice for some of the participants.
“Grace, dear!”
Grace turned her head to see Lola Littlefield, one of the younger residents at sixty years old, waving at her with a gold-handled cane. The woman’s beautiful smile was a stark contrast to a body crippled for the past twenty years by rheumatoid arthritis.
“You and your little helper come and stand by me!” Lola called.
Grace glanced around at several of the other residents to make sure that standing with Lola would not lead to hurt feelings, but the other women were already engrossed in their warm-up stretches. Grace had quickly learned that many of the residents were very territorial and greedy for attention...particularly hers. And after meeting them and seeing their living situation under Richard Watson, Grace had been only too happy to give them that much-deserved attention.
“Only if you get rid of the cane, Lola,” Grace said with a smile.
The woman cackled and handed her cane to Kira, the kickboxing instructor.
“I suppose I could be hazardous to someone’s health with that thing,” she nodded her head. “Don’t suppose I’ll need it anyway. My knee isn’t acting up as much today as it normally does.”
“I’m glad, Lola,” Grace smiled, understanding in a small way the aches Lola must suffer with her condition. Before she commented further, she heard a clap.
“Welcome to our class!” As the woman called out the greeting in a loud voice, everyone began to form some semblance of two rows. “Most of you know me by now, but for those of you who don’t, my name is Kira, and I will be your instructor.”
Kira was a friend of Sally’s, but Grace had never met her. She trusted Sally’s judgment, though, and if Sally thought Kira would have a positive impact on the residents, then Grace was all for her being there. If only she looked a little different, Grace thought. It was hard not to be self-conscious about one tiny ounce of body fat...not to mention more than a few extra pounds...when Kira was around. Grace was a size eight on a good day, but she had more than a few curves. Kira, on the other hand, had one of those rock-hard bodies featured in commercials for exercise equipment.
Grace knew that Kira owned the local gym which probably accounted for her great shape. She definitely had an intimidating presence. Not only that, but she was drop-dead gorgeous. Grace brushed back a curl that had escaped her braid and watched as Kira spoke to the class, her spiky platinum hair reflecting in the mirror.
“I have a question, dear,” Elinor interrupted Kira’s explanation of the day’s activities. “How in the world will this low-impact crap, pardon my French, help us prepare for the Peachtree Road Race?”
“You’re running in the Peachtree?” Kira asked with disbelief.
Big mistake! Grace wanted to shout a warning to the unsuspecting instructor. When it came to accomplishments, Grace had learned that the women of Mansfield Park had their younger counterparts more than outnumbered.
Grace braced herself for the battle that was bound to erupt. Kira might look tough, but Grace knew from personal experience that Elinor Clements was a scrapper when it came to verbal warfare. Right now, she seemed to be playing nice with the “dear” stuff, but when she had something on her mind, a person was better off hightailing it to the hills than engaging in a battle with the tiny little woman.
“Well, my pace might not be the fastest, but I’m certainly not going to be one of the simpering volunteers who hand out those minuscule cups of water.”
Grace watched in awe as Elinor raised her head in the regal way only she could manage...to just the right level where she could look down her dainty little nose at the person with whom she happened to be speaking. Grace had been practicing the look since the first time Elinor had leveled it on her, but she hadn’t quite gotten it down...yet. There was always hope, though. Grace had already learned more about human interaction in the past two months than she had the entire time she’d been in college.
“You can bet that tight little tush of yours that I will be participating in the race. So, if you’re going to have us sticking to this pansy stuff, Sister and I will simply have to head back to the treadmills for our endurance work-out.”
“I’m sure that I can tailor something to prepare you for your race,” Kira finally responded. “All of the exercises can become more or less intense by simply modifying them. That way, everyone in the class will benefit.”
“Hmm,” Elinor sniffed. “I suppose we can give you a chance. Is that okay with you, Sister?” She looked toward Marianne who was watching the entire interaction with amusement.
“It’s fine, Ellie,” Marianne nodded her head in a similar regal manner. “Now can we just get on with it?”
“That’s the spirit,” Grace chimed in. She walked over and gave each sister a hug.
Over the next thirty minutes, Grace understood exactly what Kira had been talking about. Her exercises could, indeed, be tailored for everyone in the room. From the low-impact work-out she had Lola and several of the others involved in to the more intense aerobic regimen she called out for Elinor and Marianne, Kira involved ev
eryone.
When the workout ended, Kira talked everyone through a series of cool-down, yoga-based stretches. As Grace struggled with a pose, she looked toward Elinor to find the older woman’s legs perfectly crossed. Grace caught her eye and stuck out her tongue. Elinor simply smiled in return and closed her eyes.
As Grace listened to the long, smooth breaths echoing across the short spaces between the students, she tried to mimic their postures and clear her mind; however, Grace couldn’t get past trying to estimate the number of minutes before they would get to her favorite yoga pose. She didn’t know its name yet since she’d never had a yoga class, but she felt sure that there had to be one that would allow her to lie down flat on her belly and rest for a few minutes. She figured that she could more than handle that pose.
Unfortunately, just when she thought relief was near, Kira mumbled something about a sun and stood to her feet. Grace opened her eyes and grumbled to herself. As the others stood to their feet and spread their arms in a series of wide arcs, Grace realized that her work had just begun. She wiped the perspiration from her brow and took a deep, cleansing breath.
•∞•∞•
“Man,” Abby huffed on the way back to the office thirty minutes later. “Those old fogies kicked our butts.”
“They were amazing, weren’t they?”
“You’re not lying,” Abby shook her head. “Old people are awesome!”
“I couldn’t have said it better myself,” Grace grinned.
“Whoa, there, ladies,” a deep voice stopped them in their tracks.
They’d been so engrossed in conversation that they hadn’t noticed the ladder in the middle of the hallway or the colorful collection of wiring hanging through a hole in the ceiling.
