P.S. I Still Love You

Janette gives me a look like Girl, please. “And who’s going to put away all the tables and chairs?
You?”
“Well, me, and I’m sure I could round up some volunteers—”
“And have one of the residents put out their back and sue the home? No, gracias.”
“We wouldn’t need to put away all of the tables, just half. Couldn’t you get the staff to help?”
Janette’s already shaking her head when inspiration hits me. “Janette, I heard that Ferncliff might bus
over some of their residents. Ferncliff. They already call themselves the premier retirement
community of the Blue Ridge Mountains.”
“Oh my God, Ferncliff is a dump. The people who work at that place are garbage. I have a
master’s. ‘Premier retirement community of the Blue Ridge Mountains’? Ha! My ass.”
Now I just need to bring it home. “I’m telling you, Janette, if this dance isn’t up to par, it’s going to
make us look like fools. We can’t let that happen. I want those Ferncliff residents to walk or wheel
out of here wishing they were Belleview!”
“All right, all right. I’ll get the janitors to help set up the dining room.” Janette shakes her finger at
me. “You’re like a dog with a bone, girl.”
“You won’t regret it,” I promise her. “For the pictures alone. We’ll put them all over the website.
Everyone will want to be us!”
At this Janette’s eyes narrow with satisfaction, and I let out the breath I’ve been holding. This
party has to go right. It just has to. It is my one bright spot.