“Vonetta! Omigod, hi! I’ve so been looking forward to meeting you.” It comes from the middle row, and a person with bronze skin, angular features, and an androgynous sense of style pops to their feet and waves. “To all the entrepreneurs who want to follow in your footsteps, what’s your biggest piece of advice?”
Quickly pivoting on my heel, I say, “Oh, it’s not time for questions yet,” my voice small and ineffective without the microphone.
I’m more worried about it flustering Vonetta than anything, but proving she’s still razor sharp—as well as made for the stage—Vonetta doesn’t miss a beat. “To be hungry when you’re starting, happy when your plate is full, and to know when it can’t hold any more. For most of my life, I prioritized work over everything else, and I lost out on many life experiences, particularly in my mid-twenties and thirties.”
Right when I’m wondering if that was directed at me, she takes a giant step backward and snags hold of my hand, so yes. Guess that’s what I get for not sitting down in time.
As I settle into a creaky folding chair off to the side of the stage, Vonetta launches into an impassioned speech on her original vision, the adversity she encountered along the way as a Black, female CEO in a male-dominated field, and how she kept believing and investing in herself when no one else would.
Claudia Caldwell from theHerald Sunis furiously scribbling notes, and I can see the two-page spread now. About how much good the Lakeview residents do, not only within their community, but also in those around them. Perhaps if I go over and do a little ego fluffing afterward, I could also plant the idea in her head of mentioning in her next article how many improvements we’ve made.
“So many people are afraid to fail,” Vonetta continues, “when it’s merely another steppingstone to success. Recognition of your hard work is wonderful, and yes, financial security vastly improves a person’s quality of life, yet it’s not enough to satisfy the human condition.” Vonetta clutches a hand to her bosom. “We think, we feel, we experience, we love—it’s wonderful.”
Again, not how I’d describe this long con called adulthood, but shiny optimism seems to spread from person to person in the audience. I’m so thrilled Vonetta’s speech is inspiring the crowd that it gives me a contact-happy-high, which is honestly the closest I get to feeling relaxed.
Any knowledge the attendees take home is a win, and Vonetta’s confidence radiates from her and fills the room as she winds down her speech. “Our bodies and souls are inextricably intertwined,” she continues, passion ringing through her voice, “and yet, we treat a fever without hesitation while continually neglecting the fire in our souls.”
Vonetta lets that statement hang in the air for an extra beat or two, and I find myself scooting to the edge of the chair, hungry for whatever advice she’s about to dole out.
“After five decades spent in the cutthroat, ever-changing business world, I’ve come to understand that true success is a constant interplay of yin and yang, work and play, action and rest.” Vonetta beams, her smile as luminescent as her dewy skin, and her confidence cranked to the next level. “My challenge for all of you is to go home tonight, look at yourself in the mirror, and ask your body and your soul what they each want for you. Then honor both of them more often going forward.”
Vonetta slowly lowers the mic to her side and bobs her head, a mini bow of sorts, and there’s nothing scattered about the resounding applause she receives. She waves and blows kisses at the crowd, eating up the attention, and a tingly sense of accomplishment pumps through me.
Hope even crooks a finger and calls to me, my lofty goals suddenly not feeling so unattainable after all.
I stand and announce we have fifteen minutes for Q&A, pleasantly surprised when I catch movement from the corner of my eye—an arm has shot up. In even more miraculous news, one of the few men in attendance wants to ask a question.
He stands, and the corners of my mouth quiver and fall as I catch what’s emblazoned in white across his navy T-shirt.hand sanitizer, with a large arrow pointing down, directly at his crotch.
“Yeah, I’ve got a question,” he says, as Idon’t think about the shirt,don’t think about the shirt,don’t think about the shirt. “Why won’t your friend Sophia go out with me anymore?”
Chapter Fifteen
A motorized whine alerts me Jan’s heading my way, the basket of her scooter coming into view a moment before she wheels through the open doorway and into my office. “Did you see it?”
There are a great many things I’ve seen during my month-long stay at Lakeview, so I’m going to need her to narrow it down a bit. “See what?”
She lifts a crinkled newspaper page off her lap, and my gut plummets to the beige Berber carpet.
All in all, the Body Positivity Presentation went well, which was what I told myself when I strolled over to the reporter afterward to thank her for coming and mention other exciting plans we had for the property. But when she was so fixated on the hand-sanitizer guy, her first question whether he’d giventhis Sophia person an STIand if it’d been at one of our notoriousoldies orgies, I completely lost my cool and kinda, sorta yelled at her.
More of a stern speaking to, honestly. It felt incredible to get off my chest, the ire I held for clickbait articles and the tabloids that hungrily leaped at the news about King EZ and the panties heard round the media world. Great, now I’m feeling guilt over helping him, even though the advice I gave could’ve been found through a simple Google search.
As for whatever article Claudia Caldwell chose to write, I’ve been alternating between hyperfixation and extreme avoidance, afraid I’d be fired as soon as it ran.
It’s why I gave in to the grannies, unplugging and fully experiencing the botanical gardens over the weekend. Thanks to a little peer pressure, I brazenly turned off my notifications and Google alerts to prove that I could, even though it’d made me twitchy. And hey, at least all the flowers made it easy to relive Noah down in the dirt, giving me an impromptu lesson on the pink rose mallow plant.
I hold my breath as Jan snaps the paper and reads aloud. “Mia Andrews, Public Relations Manager said, ‘At Lakeview, we take pride in actively combating ageism in all its forms. We firmly reject the notion that elder generations are too old for consent or intimacy. Not only are we committed to a more inclusive narrative, our programs also emphasize safe sex education and body positivity, right along with pickleball tournaments, craft nights, and highly competitive bingo. That’s what makes Lakeview Retirement Village the best place for seniors to be on vacation forever.’”
Jan rolls closer, fast enough I’m debating diving out of the way before I end up with tread marks across my shins. “That slogan is perfect! How’d you come up with it?”
My mouth falls open, but I just blink, as I’m instinctively sure I shouldn’t give the real, uncensored answer: I was pissed the reporter was turning our inhabitants into objects, the exactoppositeof the event’s purpose, and in that moment, I didn’t give a fuck.
So basically, I’m becoming the very thing I’ve been sent here to fix.
“I’m pleased as punch right now, hopeful in a way I haven’t been in a long time,” Jan says, rolling the paper in her palm and tapping my shoulder with it. “Must’ve been a good crowd. How soon do you think we’ll see a spike in residency?”
With the readership of theHerald Sundivided by the square root of retirees flying south for the winter, I have no earthly idea. “As stated in my publicity plan, we’ll predominately be focusing on turning around the reputation and polishing the image in this first stage.
