“And this is why we work as friends. It’s called balance.”
“Here, take this for her, she loves them.” Harper grabs a couple lemon cookies for Gran and puts them in a bag, then hands the bag to me. I don’t try to pay because I’m not in the mood to argue. I’ll put a big tip in the tip jar when she’s not looking.
“Thanks, Harp. I’m coming back after the lunch rush and we will absolutely be discussing the altercation with Mr. Vanderwell.”
“We will not.” She mutters.
I laugh because we absolutely will.
I take my coffee and the cookies and make my way out to the Lincoln. I frown at it. I have to admit, money has its perks. The Range Rover’s seats are heated and soft and the Lincoln is…free. The car is free, Janie! Focus.
I shiver in my beat up, hard,freeseat as I drive to Gran’s place, praying for another good morning. I breathe in the fresh air, freezing but smelling of, well, Juniper Falls. Juniper trees, spices, sugary treats and fireplaces.I take in the sparkling morning snow, the bright red decorations starting everywhere. I can admit it, it is a cheery, if completely unhinged, place.
I brace myself as I park, cross the parking lot and near the memory care center doors. I startle at the team of men stringing lights outside.
I huff as I scan my ID at the visitor pass kiosk tucked inside the inner entry doors.What, so they can spring for outdoor decorations that the residents will never even see? How does that make any sense?
I can’t wait to see the one measly tree that they—
“Wha—” The air leaves my lungs as my mouth falls open involuntarily.
Wait, What?
It’s a Christmas wonderland in here. Gran wasn’t here last year so I can’t be sure but since there was nothing but a few laminated turkeys taped up on the wall with visible Scotch tape just days ago, I’m guessing this is new.
And I can guess exactly where it all came from.
But…seriously?
I make one off-handed comment about decorations and he goes full billionaire?
My eyes start scanning, darting everywhere for a plaque, a sign, a logo. The Clark name has got to be around here somewhere. I stop a nurse passing by.
“Who donated all this?”
“We don’t know! Isn’t it wonderful?! Wait. Was it you, Mrs. Clark? It was, wasn’t it!”
I try to stop her, “No, no, it—”
“Betty! The Clarks did the decorations! Duh!”
“Of course they did! Who else could afford to get all this and secretly stage it as a surprise overnight?” Before she finishes her sentence, all the staff is buzzing, talking and then clapping.
I inhale and exhale. I try to smile but I’m sure it looks more like I’m in pain. And maybe I am. And maybe mad? But can I get mad at him for doing something anonymously? I pull out my phone.
Janie: Benedict.
Benedict: Janelle.
Janie: What did you do?!
Benedict: ?
Janie: I thought we agreed no going all billionaire
Benedict: Hm, I don’t remember reading that in the contract.
Janie: Ben!
