He swore under his breath when he took hold of Gran’s suitcase, and he even swore out loud when it was time to tackle Scarlett’s three suitcases. “What’s in here?” he asked. “Bricks?”
“Just some of my clothes,” said Scarlett sweetly. “Mind that you don’t drop that one,” she added, pointing to a particularly bulky specimen. “Those are my shoes.”
“Who are you?” asked Desmond, sweating at this point. “Imelda Marcos?”
“I happen to think it’s important that a girl takes care of herself,” said Scarlett.
The man’s eyes dipped down Scarlett’s vertiginous cleavage for a moment, and he went all googly-eyed and started to sway. Scarlett often has that effect on men. Before he toppled over like some felled mighty tree, he managed to drag his eyes away from Scarlett’s frontage long enough to lug that lady’s luggage into our new home.
“Good thing Gran didn’t bring those bags of kibble and litter she planned to take along with her,” said Dooley. “Or else that man would have popped a vessel.”
“Indeed he would have,” I said. This meant, of course, that we didn’t have kibble or litter, two essential ingredients in a cat’s life. Chase had promised he’d drop by later with a couple of bags, and some other stuff Gran said she couldn’t do without, like clean sheets—even though management had assured Marge she didn’t have to bring beddings—and some snacks—even though the cooking was supposed to be top-notch.
The room we had been assigned came furnished, and even though Gran caviled about the furnishings, and then caviled some more about the room being too hot for her taste, all in all it looked less austere than we had expected. Then again, at this point anything that looked a step up from Alcatraz was great.
And so while the humans checked cupboards and selected their beds—Gran and Scarlett were supposed to be two sisters named Janelle and Janette Corr—and Desmond finally finished the heavy lifting and let us settle in, a young man with a pleasant face popped his head in.
“Hi, there,” he said. “Anything I can help you guys with?”
“How do you switch this thing off?” asked Gran as she pointed to the radiator. “It’s like a sauna in here.”
“Our residents do like things toasty,” said the young man as he showed Gran how to work the thermostat. “My name is Isaac, by the way, and if there’s anything you need, just give me a holler. Or better yet, press that button over there.” He pointed to a button on the wall. “There’s also one in the bathroom, and one next to the beds.”
“Is this like room service?” asked Scarlett as she studied the button.
Isaac laughed.“Not exactly. It’s a panic button. In case a resident is in trouble they can push that button and a nurse will try to ascertain what’s going on, and in case of a medical emergency or some other problem, someone will be here within seconds.”
“Now isn’t that great?” said Gran, nodding approvingly. “I’ve always wanted one of these at home, but my son-in-law was dead set against it. Said he didn’t need the aggravation.”
“So where are you folks from?”
This is where Gran got a little cagey, and Scarlett directed her eyes to the ceiling, trying to remember the story she and Gran had rehearsed.“We’re two sisters from Iowa,” she said finally. “Where we’ve lived all of our lives. Um…”
“But we always said we wanted to retire near the ocean,” Gran jumped in. “And so here we are!”
“We organize regular excursions to the beach, and other places of interest,” said Isaac. “Just check the bulletin board in the cafeteria and sign up whenever you want. A lot of our residents love the excursions. “
“I bet they do,” said Scarlett as she eyed the young man with distinct interest. She placed a hand on his arm. “Say, are all the men in here as handsome as you, Isaac?”
Isaac’s face flushed, and he said in a husky voice, “I wouldn’t know about that, Mrs. Corr.”
“Miss Corr,” said Scarlett, a distinct purr in her voice now. “I never married. Never found a man who suited my needs. Are you married, Isaac?”
“Let’s leave Isaac be, sister,” said Gran, feeling that enough was enough. “We have a lot of unpacking to do.”
“We have?”
“Yes, we have,” said Gran, her tone brooking no contest.
“Well, too bad,” said Scarlett, reluctantly relinquishing her grip on the young male nursing assistant.
“Before you go,” said Gran. “By any chance do you know a man named Henry Kaur?”
“Oh, sure. He’s right across the corridor,” said Isaac, who seemed quietly relieved to be rid of Scarlett. “Why? Do you know Henry?”
“Not personally,” said Gran. “I guess you could say we have a mutual friend.” I could tell that Isaac’s expression had become a little clouded at the mention of Henry’s name, and Gran must have noticed the same thing, for she now asked, “Not a big fan of the guy, are you, Isaac?”
“Oh, I wouldn’t say that,” said Isaac, suddenly turning cautious. “I respect all residents,” he said diplomatically.
“So what about your boss?” asked Gran. “Brian whatshisface?”
“Brian Brooks,” said Isaac.
“What about him? Is he okay to work for?”