Medicine Cup (3 page)

No one should have to live out the last years of his or her life as a throwaway.

As she headed off the expressway and onto the scenic roads of eastern Vermont, she thought of her Nana. Although she was long-since gone, there were plenty of others who needed an advocate.

Her first assignment was Harbor View, an upscale facility with a solid reputation. Their record was spotless. The former inspector had given them the highest rating possible. A feat not easily accomplished in the health care industry, today.

Jennie did find one thing that stood out. Harbor View had not had a single admission in over twenty years.

Nor a single death.

P
aul was busy introducing himself to the residents when Phillip Baxter walked up.

“Paul, good morning. How’d you sleep?”

“Restless. You know, first day of work and all.”

Baxter smiled. “Yes, I understand. I’m sure in a few days, you’ll settle in. By the way, I wanted to let you know, the state inspector is due here today. I forgot to mention it yesterday. They have to come once a year to make sure we’re taking good care of our people.”

“Is there anything I need to do?”

“I think your predecessor left you in pretty good shape actually. You’ll just need to show her around. Margaret will be there to help you.”

“That’s comforting. I barely know my own way around. By the way, what happened to the nurse who was here before me? I found some of her things in my apartment. I could send them to her.”

Baxter exhaled silently. “Oh, I’m sorry. Our custodian, Mr. Cregg was supposed to clean the apartment out. You’ll have to forgive him. He’s getting along in years.”

Paul shrugged. “It’s no big deal. There were some papers there she might need, though.”

“If you would be kind enough to bring them by the office, I’ll have Margaret take care of them.”

“Did she go to another job?” Paul asked, still wondering about the nurse.

Baxter stiffened. “Excuse me, Paul. I just realized what time it is. I have to go to a meeting. Enjoy your day.”

Paul resumed his introductions, but soon realized his mind was on Baxter and Margaret. Their evasive responses to any questions he posed were troubling.

“You must be the new guy,” a small wiry woman said to Paul. “I’m Sadie. Been here forty years.”

“Forty years!”
Paul said.

*   *   *

Phillip Baxter stormed into his office and slammed his palm on the intercom button. “Margaret, get in here now!”

A second later, a worried looking Margaret Melvin hurried into the office.

Baxter sat, drumming his fingers on the desk.

“What’s the matter?” Margaret asked.

“It’s that fool Cregg. He’s screwed up again.”

J
ennie Bradford flipped open her compact and gave herself a quick once-over in the tiny mirror. She licked her fingers and pushed her bangs to one side, finishing up the instant hairdo by blowing on the loose strands to fluff them up. It was a habit she had learned from her older sister. Jennie thought of herself as pretty in a boyish sort of way. Her Dorothy Hamill hairstyle had gone out of vogue years before but she kept it anyway, even as her friends all wore longer, more stylish cuts. Besides, Jennie was a triathlete and she found it much easier to get a swim cap on without a mountain of hair to cram under it.

She closed the compact and gazed out the car window at Harbor View. It was as impressive as she’d imagined. The building was a huge Victorian castle surrounded by massive oak trees and mazes of English Boxwood. Story had it, the building was originally owned by Charles Baxter, an eccentric doctor who had died in the Amazon in the 1930’s. By the looks of the place, he was definitely not into self-denial. His son Phillip Baxter had inherited it sometime later and turned it into a nursing home.

As Jennie gathered up her briefcase, she noticed a fit, well-tanned couple in white tennis garb. They were laughing and smiling as they walked toward the clay court just ahead of them. They waved to Jennie as they passed. They looked to be in their middle fifties. Jennie waved back and continued to look.

There was something odd.

Then she looked again and realized what it was. The woman was wearing a bonnet like her grandmother used to wear when she was a girl. Jennie had seen it in photographs Nana showed her, when she would reminisce about her youth. Jennie was surprised that they’d come back in style.

The lady looked like she’d stepped right out of
1900!

P
aul Grant stared in awe of the huge pipe organ in the basement of Harbor View. If the room itself was magnificent, which it was, with walls of stone ten feet thick and thirty feet high, the organ was unbelievable. It appeared to be built directly into the architecture, with huge pipes soaring toward the ceiling. Paul had never seen anything like it. It was as much a work of art as it was an instrument. One of the residents had told him about it and he had to see for himself.

“That’s amazing.”

Paul wheeled around and immediately felt himself flush. A petite blond woman was standing behind him.

“It is beautiful, isn’t it?” he said.

The woman smiled. “Hello, I’m Jennie Bradford.”

“I’m sorry. Paul Grant. Do you work here?”

“In a manner of speaking. I’m the state inspector.”

Paul stifled his surprise. He had expected an elderly woman or a librarian type. This girl was anything but. She had an olive complexion with mischievous violet-blue eyes that peered out under brown bangs. She wore a sleeveless shell top, khakis and white Nike running shoes. Her compact physique had a muscular femininity to it. Solid, yet with soft lines.
Maybe a runner?

“We’ve been expecting you,” Paul said. “I’m the staff nurse here.”

She frowned. “
The
staff nurse? You mean, there’s only one?”

Paul nodded. “So far. But believe me, it’s not a problem. Most of these people are healthier than I am.”

“What do you mean--so far?”

“It’s only my second day here, and I haven’t seen another nurse.”

Bradford sat her briefcase down. “That’s unusual.”

Paul shook his head. “From what I’ve seen, this isn’t your
usual
nursing home.”

Jennie Bradford shrugged. “Well, at least we have something in common. This is my first assignment. Guess we can learn together.”

“How about some coffee?” Paul asked.

“Love some. Lead the way.”

Paul glanced over his shoulder. “I’ll try not to get us lost.”

Jennie Bradford grinned. “That might be fun.”

“M
argaret, this is Jennie Bradford. She’s the new State Inspector.”

Margaret looked at Paul tentatively, snapped off her bifocals and glared down at Jennie. “What happened to Barbara?”

“She retired,” Jennie said.

“Oh, that’s too bad. No offense to you, of course. It’s just that Barbara and I go back a long way. Her visits here were almost social calls. She knew the place so well. Anyway, it’s good to meet you. Has Paul showed you around?”

Paul shifted his weight. “I thought I’d leave that to you, Margaret. I barely know my own way around.”

Margaret’s face hardened. “You found your way to the organ room, didn’t you?”

“Yes, but I had to get directions.”

Margaret exhaled. “I’m sure you did,” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Anyway, Miss... Brindle, is it?”

“Bradford. Jennie is fine.”

Margaret looked at her watch. “As I was about to say,
Jennie,
it’s a little late to start anything today. I take it you’ve found comfortable accommodations in town?”

“I’m staying at the Sable Inn.”

“I’m sure you’ll find it to your liking. It’s very cozy. And be sure and try their apple pie. It’s delicious.”

“Thank you, I’ll do that.”

Margaret replaced her glasses. “Well then, how about we meet back here tomorrow at, say, nine o’clock?”

“That’ll be fine,” Jennie said.

Paul was staring a hole in the floor until Margaret snapped him out of it.

“Paul, if I could talk to you just a minute?”

Paul was puzzled. “Right now?”

“Right now would be fine.”

Margaret went to the door of her office. “Jennie, if you’ll excuse us, I’ll look forward to seeing you tomorrow.”

Paul followed Margaret into her office. For the first time, Paul took a close look at Margaret. It was hard to judge her age. Something about it spoke of years, but somehow she looked remarkably fit.

She sat at her desk and looked over the top of her glasses at Paul. An annoying habit he had already noticed.

“I just wanted to tell you,” she said, “We have a couple of residents who like to talk a lot. Particularly Sadie Mills. You need to take her with a grain of salt, as the saying goes. I wouldn’t want to see you get in any kind of trouble because of her.”

“Trouble?”

“For instance, the organ room. As I told you yesterday, certain parts of the facility are off limits, mainly for safety reasons. This building is very old, as you have seen, and it can be dangerous if you don’t know your way around. Lighting is poor, the roof leaks, and it can get very slippery in the basement halls. Mr. Baxter is very adamant about employees staying out of the restricted areas.”

Paul nodded. “Okay, I’ll remember that. Anything else?”

“No, that’s all. Why don’t you call it a day? We have a lot to do tomorrow.”

Paul hurried out of the office and looked out the hall window. He hoped to catch Jennie Bradford before she left. He saw her about to get into her car, so he bolted for the stairs. After bounding down them three at a time, he ran through the exit door, just as Jennie was backing out. He yelled her name as loud as he could. Out of breath, he reached her car just as she put it in drive.

She hit the brake and pulled back into the parking space. She rolled down her window as Paul walked up.

“I’m sorry,” Paul said, trying to catch his breath. “I just wanted to apologize for Margaret. I didn’t know she’d be such a–“

“
Bitch
?” Jennie said.

“Yes. Gold plated. You should have heard what she said to me in the office.”

Jennie looked at him and smiled. “Well, how ‘bout we have dinner later and talk about it? You have any plans?”

Paul felt his pulse quicken. “Me? Are you kidding? My plans consist of a TV dinner and a beer.”

“In that case, I saw a great little Italian place in town. If it’s as good as the sign says, we’re in luck.”

Paul leaned against the car door. “I don’t have any wheels with me. I never bring them when I’m on a travel assignment.”

“I’ll pick you up. How’s six thirty sound?”

“You got it.”

Paul walked away with mixed emotions. He was thrilled to be going to dinner with a gorgeous girl on his second day of work. At the same time, Margaret was already beginning to bug him. Her initial charm had quickly worn off and she had turned into an ice queen.

Had he made a mistake coming here?
And how the hell did she know he was in the organ room?

T
he restaurant was every bit as good as Jennie had suggested. It seemed a bit odd to Paul for an authentic Italian restaurant to be smack dab in the middle of Vermont, but it was more Italian than some places he’d eaten at in New York. Small red and white-checkered table clothes covered the square tables that were decorated with but a single candle placed in an empty Chianti bottle.

Paul ordered the veal picata, while Jennie decided on lasagna. Her favorite, she had confessed. They were on their second bottle of Lambrusco and Paul was feeling lightheaded.

“So tell me, what is Jennie Bradford like?” he asked.

Jennie shrugged. “Just your average girl from Montana.”

“Montana! You’ve got to be kidding me. I’m from Billings! And by the way, you’re anything but average.”

“Oh my God. I can’t believe this. I’m from Butte. And thank you for the compliment.”

“How did we end up here of all places?” Paul asked.

Jennie rolled her eyes. “I’m starting to ask myself that same question after the reception I got from that boss of yours.”

“She
is
a bitch. And defensive. Every time I ask her about Harbor View, I get put off. It’s almost like they’re hiding something.”

Jennie took a gulp of wine. “Maybe they are. Although, by my records, they have one of the finest facilities in New England. Do you know that they haven’t had a death in over twenty years?”

Paul’s mouth dropped open. “Twenty years?”

“Yep, unless my reports are wrong. I guess we’ll find out tomorrow.”

“Yeah, but enough about Harbor View,” Paul said. “What about you? You still have folks in Butte?”

The waiter showed up with a huge Caesar Salad and basket of bread sticks. Jennie grabbed a bread stick and took a quick bite.

“No. My grandparents raised me. My father was killed in Viet Nam. My mother couldn’t handle it. She ended up in the state hospital. By the time she got out, her health had deteriorated to nothing.”

“I’m sorry,” Paul said.

Jennie smiled ruefully. “It’s fine. I had a great childhood, despite it all. Grew up on a big ranch. Grandfather was in cattle. Ate steak every day of the week.”

“So, that’s why you ordered lasagna,” Paul said, gulping the last of his wine.

Jennie exhaled silently. “How about you, Paul?”

“I’m an orphan of sorts myself. My parents were killed in a plane crash in 1975. Fortunately, I was old enough to take care of myself. You want some more wine?”

“Sure, fill it up,” Jennie said, extending her wine glass.

Paul filled their glasses and pushed the bottle back into the ice bucket. They clinked glasses and drank. As Paul sat his glass down, he glanced furtively at Jennie. The food arrived just in time. It was apparent she was as anxious to change the subject as he was.