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It sounded cold and maybe a little as if he was taking advantage, but truly, he wasn’t. People needed that time to let their emotions rage, he’d discovered. It wasn’t pretty, but it was all about processing those bad, messy feelings that came from the breakup of most relationships. And without that processing time, people simply couldn’t move on.
He gave them that time, at an outrageous sum per hour, as most attorneys did, and then when he felt they were ready, he got them to agree to the actual divorce.
Wyatt liked to think he provided a much-needed service to the miserably married public, that he gave his clients a nice balance of hand-holding, emotional venting opportunities and, in the end, closure. For that, he was incredibly well paid and had learned how to talk almost anyone into anything. A skill that he never imagined he’d need in such abundance in looking after his beloved but troublesome elderly uncle in the man’s waning years.
Problem was, certain things about uncle Leo showed no signs of waning. Most distressingly, his interest in women.
When they’d come to Remington Park, Wyatt had been at his most charming, most reassuring, pushing to seal the deal without ever seeming like he was pushing, seeming like a man with no troubles at all, when he convinced Ms. Steele to take uncle Leo.
“Kicked out of three retirement homes already!” Ms. Steele commented.
It wasn’t a question. She knew it was true. Damn. “Look, he just went a little…you know—”
“No, I don’t,” Ms. Steele said. “The man’s eighty-six, not sixteen!”
“He and my aunt Millicent were together for eleven years,” Wyatt explained.
Ms. Steele didn’t seem impressed at all with the number.
Wyatt frowned. “No one in my family’s ever stayed married that long. This was the marathon of marriages for the Gray family men—a record likely to stand for the ages if history is any guide—and uncle Leo was faithful to her the entire time. He swears it. But then, when she was gone…I mean, he was devastated. Truly, he was. But he also felt like…”
“He was running out of time?” she suggested.
Wyatt nodded. “I suppose.”
“Had to get everything while he still could?”
That sounded more selfish than he’d ever considered Leo to be, but still, Wyatt conceded, “It’s possible.”
“A little like a kid in a candy store, given the fact that there are so many more women than men at his age? Or even in the age group ten or twenty years younger than he is? So many lonely women with no one to talk to? No one to flatter them? Flirt with them? Hold them? Convince them to let him take care of certain physical needs they might have forgotten, that he can bring back to life, like magic?”
“Okay, yes. He likes women,” Wyatt admitted. “Always has. And they like him.”
“Don’t expect me to see this as some sort of public service he’s offering. Servicing—if you will—lonely women,” she said, looking every bit as dour and imposing as the last administrator who’d kicked uncle Leo out of her facility. “Because I certainly don’t see it that way.”
“And how do you see it?” Wyatt asked, thinking if he knew where she was coming from, surely he could fix this.
“Like he has caused women who’ve lived together happily, some of them for years in the same cottage, to now be at each other’s throats! Like they were in high school, fighting over a boy! I won’t have it. I can’t—”
“Look, he’s a flirt—”
She frowned down her upturned nose, holding a file folder in front of her. “He’s doing more than flirting.”
Damn, Wyatt thought. Leo’s still got it. At eighty-six! A part of him couldn’t help but feel a sense of admiration and reassurance about his own twilight years.
Eighty-six and still going.
On the other hand, he could really go for Leo moderately drugged and confined to a deliberately sabotaged wheelchair in an all-male home right now.
Did they have those? All-male homes? Wyatt would have to look into it, if he couldn’t salvage this situation.
“Look, these women…He swears he doesn’t make them any promises. No commitments. I told him he had to make that clear up front, so no one would get hurt.” He’d thought about actually drafting a release, spelling it out in writing. No expectations of any permanent arrangement. And getting them all to sign before Leo got too close. “I mean, surely women still aren’t looking for a long-term commitment in their eighties? Please tell me they’re not?”
Ms. Steele looked aghast.
“He can’t help it if women like him,” Wyatt said.
“The women here got along just fine with each other until he came,” Ms. Steele reiterated. “So I don’t think the women are the problem. He is. And if he causes any more of an uproar here, he’s gone. I mean it. And you’ll have to take him out of state to find him a new home. I won’t have him doing the same thing to anyone I know in this business.”
Okay, so…it wasn’t that bad yet? They still had a chance. What a relief!
“He’ll be great,” Wyatt vowed. “Quiet, kind—without being too kind. Friendly without being too friendly. A model resident. I promise.”
Bigger lies had seldom fallen from Wyatt’s lips, he feared.
He wrapped up his meeting with Ms. Steele and went to find his uncle.
Remington Park was actually a series of small cottages, each housing eight to ten residents who had their own bedrooms and shared a common kitchen, living room and dining room. Those cottages were set around larger, more traditional assisted living apartments and a nursing home facility for people who needed a higher level of care. Once they could no longer live in the cottages comfortably, they could move next door to assisted living or the nursing home, without leaving all the friends they’d made within the community.
The whole complex also had extensive walking trails, gardens, a few small shops, a pool, a rehab center and cafeteria, and boasted of the fitness and activity level of its residents.
Wyatt thought it seemed homey, those little cottages—kind of like old-fashioned boarding houses. Plus there were the more traditional care options. He hadn’t thought, as he clearly should have, that with the place being this big, there were bound to be tons of women.
As he walked down the path that led to Leo’s cottage, he saw them. Some of them frail-looking and hunched over, some of them glossy, white-haired, beauties-in-their-day women, bare arms pumping with each step, wearing walking shorts, their toned, tanned legs moving at a pace that might even leave Wyatt breathless as they went about their exercise.
As Leo liked to say, eighty was the new sixty.
Wyatt just shook his head and thought he had to get to the gym more. He could take out some of his frustrations over Leo there, and he wanted to be in good shape, still able to chase women if he wanted to when he was in his eighties.
He got to Leo’s cottage, then to Leo’s room, but seeing it was empty, went to the kitchen and asked the young woman in the cheery yellow polo shirt the staff wore where his uncle was. But she wasn’t sure.
“He doesn’t spend much time in his room,” she said, looking like she was trying to be diplomatic and maybe was a little scared.
Wyatt wondered if she was the one who had squealed on Leo to the dragon-lady administrator. Poor girl. She didn’t look like she was much past twenty and certainly no match for Leo at his most charming or most manipulative.
“Do you have any idea where he spends most of his time, if not in his room?” Wyatt tried.
“Well, he has a new lady friend,” she admitted. “I mean…at least one new one that I know of. It’s hard to keep up, you know?”
“I know,” Wyatt admitted.
“There’s a bench on a little hill in the formal gardens overlooking the outdoor pool. You know where the outdoor pool is?”
Wyatt nodded, remembering from the tour.
“I’ve heard him say how much he likes that spot.” She leaned in closer, whispering. “The view…of the ladies at the pool, sunbathing…You know what I mean?”
“Oh, yes.”
Bathing beauties had always done it for the Gray men.
“You might try there,” she offered.
Wyatt thanked her.
He found the gardens, followed the sound of low laughter and a faint blend of ‘40s big-band music to the little hill overlooking the outdoor pool.
There was the bench, but no Leo.
Then Wyatt heard giggling.
Leo had always had a knack for making the women laugh.
Around a bush, a cypress tree and a decorative rock wall, there was a more secluded bench and Leo with his arms around a lovely white-haired woman, her head laid back against his arm as she gazed up at him adoringly. He bent down to kiss her, his hands starting to wander.
“Leo,” she said, still giggly, pushing one wandering hand away. “We just met!”
Wyatt rolled his eyes and swore under his breath.
Leo copping a feel at eighty-six, just like a damn teenage boy with more hormones than functioning brain cells.
Was there some sort of anti-Viagra? Something they could slip into Leo’s nightly bourbon and Coke? Maybe that would do the trick.
Wyatt strode forward, calling out to his uncle as he did. The lady jumped up and away from Leo, blushing like an innocent young miss.
Leo got to his feet, too, smiling for all he was worth. “Wyatt, my boy. What are you doing here?”
“Oh, I think you know,” Wyatt said.
Chapter Two
“But, I know the pay for aides in a retirement community is not good.” Abysmal, actually. How could any woman live on that, and the workers here were primarily female, as the lowest-paid workers most usually were, Jane knew.
“Yes,” Amy admitted. “But all I have is my GED. You don’t make a lot of money with a GED.”
“Which is why going back to school is so important,” Jane said.
“And costs a ton of money. Where would I get the money?”
“There are programs to loan money to people who are furthering their education. I’ll bring the paperwork here. We can fill it out together.”
“And then what? Classes at night? Working all day? When am I going to see Max? I’m all he has. And I can’t afford to pay someone to take care of him all the time.” Amy looked tired suddenly, taking care of too many people for too long with no one to help her.
“Do it now, and you’ll be grateful for the rest of your life and Max’s. No more living paycheck to paycheck. Think about it. Job security, health insurance. You can do it. I know you can,” Jane promised, trying not to break into her basic speech on education and financial well-being with all the bells and whistles, the cheerleading, the chants, the whole bit.
She tended to do that, even when she wasn’t on the podium conducting a seminar, and it made some people uncomfortable.
“I’ll think about it,” Amy said. “But I just don’t see how I can make it work.”
“I do. I’ve helped thousands of women just like you get back to school and get good jobs—”
“Jane?” Gram said, as she and Gladdy came around the corner and into the kitchen. “Don’t nag, dear. Amy loves it here, and we can’t imagine this place without her.”
“Sorry, Amy.” Jane took a breath and hoped she truly did look sorry.
Gram thought Jane was too militant in her ways, crusading for women’s financial freedom and security.
Of course, Gram and Gladdy’s idea of financial security was a man, a well-to-do man. Jane had finally convinced them to at least ask for gold and diamonds as gifts from their various admirers. Gold and diamonds held their value quite well and could always be sold, if need be. Stock certificates and bonds in divorce settlements worked well, too. They’d been involved with enough men, by this age, to have accumulated smartly diverse and extensive investment portfolios, something of which Jane, who’d handled their finances for years, was very proud.
“Don’t worry.” Amy laid her hand on top of Jane’s. “It’s fine. And it’s nice to have someone who cares.”
“I do,” Jane promised. “If you ever decide to leave here, or they catch you bringing Max to work one day, promise to call me.”
“Jane!” Gram said again.
“You know the administrator would fire Amy if she ever caught Max here during Amy’s working hours,” Jane argued in her own defense.
“We love Max and Amy, and we are very good at hiding Max when necessary,” Aunt Gladdy said. “Plus, we have our eyes out for a nice young man for Amy. We’re going to find her someone fabulous!”
Jane groaned, then looked pleadingly at Amy. “A man is not the answer.”
“They are to some things,” Amy countered. “I’ve been alone a long time, if you know what I mean.”
“Okay, men have their uses,” Jane admitted. “Limited at best, but they are not the answer.”
“Well, I don’t know about that,” a lively older man claimed, smiling as he took his place by Gram’s side and leaned over to give her a little kiss on the cheek. “I’d have to say it depends on exactly what the question is.”
Though he looked younger, Jane would bet money he was at least eighty, maybe older, just because she knew men seemed to think they were entitled to a younger woman, the younger the better.
Her father had already married and divorced two women younger than Jane. Why was that, exactly, that they thought they were entitled to younger and younger women? Didn’t they know how ridiculous they looked? Running around with wives younger than their daughters?
Jane had never been able to figure that one out.
And she feared she disliked Leo Gray on sight.
Gram gave him a dazzling smile, which faded fast after Leo greeted her and then turned to give Gladdy the same treatment, little kiss on the cheek and all. Gladdy glowed for a moment, then caught Gram’s look and eased maybe an inch farther away from Leo.
So…Gladdy liked him, too?
Not good, Jane thought. Really not good.
She tried to comfort herself by remembering that in all their years together, Gram and Gladdy had never fought over a man. Surely they wouldn’t start now.
Gram put her hand on Leo’s arm and said, “Leo Gray, meet my favorite granddaughter, Jane Clayton. Jane, darling, this is Leo.”
Jane held out her hand, only to find Leo clasping it in both of his and slowly bringing it to his lips for the barest hint of a kiss. “Well, she is just as adorable as you said, Kathleen. I can see now what you must have looked like as a girl, you gorgeous thing.”
Adorable?
