Aging with Gracie

by Heather Hunt

“Well, this afternoon, I’m helping Mrs. Elderman make fried apple pies for tomorrow’s Homecoming service at church,” she told him. “Her trees are covered with fruit, and she thought I might like learning something new.”

  “Fried apple pies,” Jack sighed. “I’m almost sure that the manna God sent to the Israelites had to have tasted something like Mrs. Elderman’s fried apple pies.”

  “You’re crazy, Jack Ellis.” Grace reached around and gave his arm a gentle shove. “It’s just flour and sugar and apples─”

  “─In the most wonderful combination that has ever hit your mouth,” Jack explained. “Just wait. You’ll see.”

  “I guess,” she shrugged. “So, I suppose you’ll be wanting one.”

  “One?” Jack seemed offended. “There’s no way a man can stop with eating only one of those apple pies. And the fresher the better.”

  Grace understood the hint.

  “So, I can also suppose that you might make a surprise appearance tonight about seven o’clock?”

  He pretended to think for a moment.

  “Yep,” he nodded. “Seven sounds about right.”

  “Jack Ellis, you’re going to drive me crazy, aren’t you?” she laughed.

  “Not nearly as crazy as you’re making me,” he responded.

  Before Grace could think of a comeback, Mr. Knightley started barking hysterically and pulled away from Jack’s loose grip. With leaves flying in his wake, he ran down the path and disappeared from sight around a large boulder.

  “Knightley!” Grace called. “You come back here!”

  “He’ll be fine,” Jack assured her. “We’re already a ways off from the edge. There’s really not much trouble he can find. Unless he comes upon a...”

  “A what?” Grace waited for an answer. Jack’s reticence was bringing her mothering instinct to a frantic level. “Jack, tell me. Unless he comes upon a what?”

  About that time, Mr. Knightley came back around the corner, whining and pawing at his pudgy face. His short little legs were beating a steady retreat. If he’d had hardly a tail at all, Jack decided it would’ve been between his legs. That dog had been taught a lesson, alright, and it had been a good one, too.

  “Oh, brother,” Jack held in a laugh. “Gracie, I think Mr. Knightley has tangled with a...”

  Before Jack could prevent her from doing so, Grace had lowered herself to her knees and opened her arms to the pitiful pooch. Mr. Knightley, seeing security in the face of his mistress, immediately picked up his pace and scurried toward the shelter of her arms.

  “Gracie,” Jack warned her. “If I were you, I’d not...”

  But it was too late. For Mr. Knightley...and for Grace.

  “What in the world is that smell?” She pushed Mr. Knightley away and wiped at the greasy texture on her hands. “Oh, it’s horrible!”

  “It’s skunk scent,” Jack told her.

  “A skunk?” Her voice became louder and more high-pitched with the realization. “Why in the world did you let me hold him?” She glared at Jack.

  “Gracie, I tried.”

  She walked toward him, but he skirted away and backed down the path, his eyes never leaving hers.

  “Keep your distance, Princess,” he warned her. “That stuff is toxic.”

  “You think I don’t realize that?” she huffed.

  The stench was indeed overwhelming. Grace’s nostrils were stinging, and her eyes were watering. She wiped at her nose with the sleeve of her shirt, but that only made it worse. Mr. Knightley had left his mark practically everywhere. She glanced down at the pup.

  “You naughty little fellow.” But the pooch was so pitiful that Grace couldn’t help feeling sorry for him. She puckered her lips and blew the dog a kiss. “You’ve gotten us into a mess, haven’t you?”

  Mr. Knightley pawed at his nose and whimpered in response. Grace reached down and patted his head. It was the least she could do. After all, she was already covered with the skunky odor. She might as well give Mr. Knightly some affection.

  She marched down the path after Jack. She wanted to be angry with him, but bless his heart, she couldn’t help but agree that he was smart to keep his distance.

  “So, how can we deal with this?” she called out the question. “Does it wash off?”

  “Some folks take a tomato bath, but usually, that doesn’t work. It’ll probably take a few days to wear off.”

  “Days?”

  “Afraid so.” He gave her a sympathetic nod. “Mountain folks usually mix up a batch of peroxide, baking soda, and dishwashing detergent. You’ve gotta’ keep it out of your eyes, but it’s pretty effective. It shouldn’t hurt Mr. Knightley, here, because he’s got white fur.” He eyed the dog. “Might just turn it a little yellow.”

  “But my hair is dark brown,” Grace whined. “What am I supposed to do?”

  “You can still use the stuff in a bath,” he told her. “Your hair should be fine unless you really let him wallow all over you. Which, knowing you, you probably did,” he added.

  “He needed some sympathy,” Grace defended her actions.

  Had she known the complete circumstances, she probably would have held Mr. Knightley at bay; however, she couldn’t harbor it against him. After all, he was just a miniature city slicker. He was totally out of his element in nature.

  Much like her.

  By this time, they’d reached Mrs. Elderman’s, and Jack called out to get the woman’s attention. A few seconds later, Mrs. Elderman came to the back door.

  “What’s all the ruckus about?” She wiped her hands on her apron.

  “Skunk,” Jack told her. He pointed toward the two guilty parties.

  “Well, I’ll not have that smell coming into my house.” She spread her knee-high-nylon-clad legs as if she were determined to defend her territory. “Grace, honey, you’ll just have to go down to the creek and wash.”

  “The creek!” Grace exclaimed. “It’s barely sixty degrees! I’ll freeze!”

  “Maybe she could scrub down in her clothes out here, then head on into her room,” Jack offered. “I could take care of the dog. Especially if someone offered me a fried apple pie or two.” He gave the older woman a wink and watched as she let out a cackle.

  Grace mellowed at Jack’s offer, even though she figured it was simply for Mrs. Elderman’s pies. “You’d do that for me? For Knightley?”

  “I’ve got a pair of long gloves in the truck,” he told her. “I should be fine as long as he doesn’t want to snuggle.”

  He gave Grace a pointed look, letting her know in no uncertain terms that “snuggling” with the pup was what had gotten her into the mess to begin with.

  “I can’t help it if I like to snuggle.” She gave him a pixie’s grin.

  “Well, in the future,” he drawled, “How about you save your snuggling for me?”

  “Knightley is much nicer,” Grace proclaimed with a haughty upward tilt of her chin. It was a sweet little challenge that Jack was more than willing to accept.

  “We’ll see about that, Sugar,” he told her. “You’ll just have to give me a little more time to make you see things my way.”

  With that, he ambled toward his truck, a vanquished Mr. Knightley following closely on his heels.

  Chapter Six

  Persuasion

  “I’ve never seen folks as happy as they’ve been since you arrived, Grace,” Sally told her as she handed Grace an application. One of their residents was moving to Charleston with his family, and several local townspeople were already vying for the vacant suite. One person had even sent a video application.

  Grace laughed. The transformation at Mansfield Park had been amazing, but she knew she couldn’t take full credit. Jack and his crew had kept on schedule with the renovations, and her new and improved staff was a wonder.

  Sally alone had been a lifesaver. A single mother who worked odd shifts in order to attend nursing school and support her teenage son, she had been an integral reason the transition had gone so smoothly.
Grace had already assured her that she would have a place on their nursing staff when she graduated from nursing school.

  “Things are definitely coming along.” Grace smiled at Sally and looked around the cluttered office.

  It was in obvious disarray. Cardboard boxes were stacked to the ceiling on one side of the room, and a small desk, in addition to Grace’s larger one, had been wedged into a far corner of the room. The two of them had arrived to the chaos only an hour ago, but they were already attacking their work like a line of ants at a picnic.

  “I knew that we would be sharing an office while they renovated yours, but I didn’t know you kept so much stuff in there.”

  “We have to keep manuals for each licensing organization, copies of various records, and a cartload of other books and pamphlets on hand,” Sally told her. “Once I have the new bookcases, I hope to have things more organized.”

  “Hey, your cardboard box filing system is amazing in my opinion,” Grace laughed.

  “I know what you think, Grace, but I really can find just about everything I need the way I have things filed.”

  “That’s what I’m talking about, Sally,” Grace told her. “It’s unbelievable! I only hope one of those licensing agencies doesn’t show up on a day when you’re not working. I would be toast! You can do what you like with your system, but we also have to have everything in those boxes on our computers, too.”

  “Already working on it,” Sally laughed. “Anyway, Jack said they should be finished today. The cabinet guys are installing the bookcases as we speak.”

  “Thank goodness,” Grace brushed a hand across her brow. “As much as I love you, I can’t wait to get my office back.”

  “Me, too,” Sally agreed. “By the way, I really meant what I said earlier, about this place not being the same since you arrived.”

  Grace was a little self-conscious at the praise and felt her ears turning red.

  “It has taken all of us, Sally,” Grace reiterated.

  “It’s more than that, Grace.” Sally tucked a pencil behind her ear and began the task of changing the printer’s ink cartridge.

  “What do you mean?”

  “It’s way more than the superficial stuff,” she continued. “It’s the way people are acting. You can’t begin to comprehend what a weight you took off everyone when you gave Agatha the sack.”

  “I had a bad feeling about her from the beginning, but I didn’t realize she would turn out to be so bad.”

  “Not just bad. Evil was more like it.” Sally shook her head. “She didn’t care a fig about anyone here but herself.”

  Grace felt the sting of guilt as she realized that she might have been described in the same manner just a few months ago. The happiness of the residents had been her least concern when she’d made her way to Manhattan from Atlanta.

  “Well, I’m glad everything is working out. A lot of the success rests with you, you know.”

  “Don’t flatter me.” Sally turned her eyes back to the printer but not before Grace saw a flush creep into her cheeks.

  “I’m serious, Sally. You do an awesome job here.”

  “Do you really mean it?”

  “I certainly do. That’s why I’m giving you a raise.” Grace picked up a piece of paper and handed it to Sally. It was a memorandum Grace had typed up the previous day.

  “Well, thank you, Grace. This will sure come in handy, especially with Christmas just around the corner.” Sally, in her usual sweet manner, reached to give Grace a hug. She’d barely touched her boss when a puzzled look crossed her face. When she hesitated with the hug, Grace gave her an inquiring look.

  “Is something wrong?” Grace asked, trying to hold in her laughter. She knew that the smell was slowly dissipating, but she’d still been able to detect a trace of “eau de skunk” when she’d dressed that morning. “Is it my new perfume?”

  “Actually...” Sally paused.

  Grace let out a chuckle.

  “Sally, you’re hilarious!” Grace collapsed into her chair with a laugh. “I stink to high heaven! Knightley came upon a skunk this week-end and brought me right into the whole stinky situation. I’ve tried everything from Jack’s baking soda combination to vats of tomato juice, but I still smell like...”

  “A pile of stinky spaghetti?” Sally suggested.

  “That about covers it,” Grace sighed. “I smelled so bad yesterday that I couldn’t even go to church. The minister would have kicked me out for running off his congregation.”

  “You’ll have to be sure to make it to the service Tuesday night then,” Sally told her. “As you already know, the people around here are more tolerant of bad odors than most.”

  “At least some of them are.” Grace squinted her eyes at her employee.

  “Hey, even I have my limits,” Sally laughed. “So far, I haven’t read anything in my nursing books about skunks. I would like to say thank you for the raise, though.” Sally cut her eyes toward Grace. “I’ll just say it from a distance.”

  “I’ll remember that, Sally,” Grace warned her with a smile. “But despite your less-than-accommodating attitude, you’re welcome. Thank you for doing such a great job here.”

  “Excuse me, ladies.” Their conversation was cut short by the arrival of one of Jack’s crew members. He barely gave Grace a glance before turning his attention to Sally. “Jack wanted me to ask you to take a look at the tile in the salon.”

  Grace smiled. It looked as if there were more romantic notions going around than simply the ones in her own head.

  “Oh, of course,” Sally said with a blush.

  The women followed the worker through a cordoned off area and into the space designated for the salon.

  “Wow!” Sally was the first to speak, and her assessment was right on the money.

  Grace nodded her agreement. The crew had done a great job. The room, with its black and white tiles, had an Art Deco feel that would appeal to the ladies at Mansfield Park. Combined with the mirrored walls, recessed lighting, and accent wall sconces, the area was stunning.

  “Sally’s right, Dave. The room looks great.”

  “Well, I’m glad you like it ma’am. Jack’s been on us hard to get things in order,” he grinned at Sally. “Boss said something about the princess and her court needing a place to doll themselves up every once in a while.”

  “He did, did he?” Grace chewed on the inside of her jaw as she digested the information.

  “Yes, ma’am, he did.”

  “And where might Mr. Ellis be at the present time, Dave?”

  “I reckon he’s in that whirlpool room.” He thought for a moment. “I mean, the Hydrotherapy Center, ma’am.”

  Grace looked at Sally, and it was all they could do to keep from cracking up at his attempt to use the correct medical terminology. The physical therapist who visited the residence every day had encouraged the staff to use the proper terms, but Grace hadn’t known the man had cornered the construction crew as well with his demands. She was sure to get an earful from Jack.

  “Thank you, Dave.” She smiled. “If you’re not busy, do you mind accompanying Sally to take a look at her office? From what we hear, it’s almost complete. Then, maybe the two of you could stop in the dining room for a cup of coffee. It’s all I can do to get her to take a break.”

  “But I’ve only been here...”

  “Sure thing, ma’am,” Grace heard Dave answer as she made the turn toward the recreation area. Sally was sure to kill her later, but Grace couldn’t help but dabble in a little matchmaking while she was there. After all, her mother hadn’t named her Emma Woodhouse for just any old reason.

  •∞•∞•

  As Dave had predicted, Grace found Jack leaning over the new whirlpool adjusting one of the jets. His tee-shirt had soaked up some of the spray and clung to his arms and chest. She swallowed hard and walked toward him.

  “The salon looks great.”

  He turned at the sound of her voice.

  “Thanks.”
He sat back on his heels and wiped his wet brow with a dingy-looking bandana. “I’m not so sure that I would have chosen those colors, but it turned out pretty well. The tile guys did an excellent job.”

  “I’m sure the women here will love it,” Grace told him. “I’ve already had to let them draw numbers from one of Ellie’s hats just to keep them from stampeding the place once we get it open.”

  “So you’ve got someone to run it?”

  “There’s a local woman who already works with many of the women. She’s simply been coming to their rooms. The salon will make things much easier for her now.”

  “I’m sure,” Jack nodded his head.

  “She and an assistant are planning to come in on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Of course, they’ll give the residents a huge discount, so it will be more like volunteering.”

  “Still, she must enjoy it.” Jack stood up and pulled the wet shirt away from his chest. “God has obviously given her a heart to help.”

  “Absolutely,” Grace agreed. She could barely talk with Jack looking so gorgeous. “And I’m ecstatic about it. The women certainly don’t want me trying to fix their hair-dos. I can barely tackle my own.”

  Grace’s previously tamed hair was already curling around her face from the steam in the room. She blew back a dark ringlet from her face with an exasperated puff.

  Jack walked forward and captured a curl between his fingers.

  “I don’t know.” He pulled the curl straight and found that her hair was actually quite long, past her shoulders even. “I’d say that I’m pretty impressed with it.”

  “It’s a mess.” Grace brushed his hand away and took a step back in an attempt to regain some composure.

  Her emotions went haywire every time he fixed his gaze on her, so she avoided his eyes and instead, walked away to look around the room. She tried counting to a hundred in an effort to calm her nerves, but she’d barely gotten to ten when Jack’s voice interrupted her.