Free Change of Scene: A 100 Page Novella by Mary Kay Andrews Page B

run-down warehouse in the shadow of downtown L.A. Greer had actually scouted it months earlier for a television cop show pilot. The band played heavy metal thrash music, the director was a baby-faced twenty-two-year-old, and most of the rest of the crew appeared to be barely out of high school. And slightly stoned. Greer was kept running nonstop until the director called for a lunch break at 3 p.m.
    She sat down at the craft services table, inhaled a stale ham-and-cheese sandwich, and was still listening to her missed phone calls when CeeJay sat down beside her.
    “You’re grinning like the Cheshire cat,” CeeJay said, dipping a baby carrot into a paper cup full of hummus. “Good news?”
    “Fabulous news. Vista Haven, that’s the home I’ve been trying to get Dearie into, called. They might have a vacancy.”
    “Wonderful!”
    “Better than wonderful. It’s a miracle. They want me to take her over there first thing in the morning for an interview. And if everything goes okay, she could move in immediately.”
    “Fingers crossed,” CeeJay said.
    “Fingers, toes, knees, everything crossed,” Greer added.
    *
    Sunday morning, Dearie sat very still in the Explorer’s passenger seat. She’d taken pains with her appearance, changing her dress twice, fussing over her helmetlike hairdo, applying face powder and lipstick, even donning pearl earrings.
    Greer glanced over at her. “You look very pretty,” she said soothingly. “I love that pink dress on you.”
    Dearie pursed her lips and tugged at the hem of the dress. “You should see the seams on this thing. Whoever made it should be ashamed of themselves. If I still had my old sewing machine…”
    “You’d make something ten times better,” Greer agreed. “I remember that dress you made me for my junior prom. I wish I still had it.”
    “Copied it straight out of one of your mother’s magazines,” Dearie said proudly. “You looked gorgeous in it, too.”
    She stared out the car’s window for a moment. “Maybe we should stop for lunch.”
    “You had lunch, less than an hour ago. Breakfast, too. Why are you so nervous?”
    “What if they don’t like me at this new place?”
    “What’s not to like? You’re a sweet little old lady. As far as they know.”
    “Hah!” Dearie said with a snort. “What if I don’t like this place?”
    Greer gave that some thought. She was running out of options, but she’d never share that with her grandmother.
    “Let’s just take it one step at a time, okay? It looks fine. The director, Mrs. Horan, seemed very nice on the phone, and I did some research on the computer last night. They’ve passed all their state inspections, and there are no complaints about Vista Haven that I can find on the Internet. And if you really hate it, we’ll keep looking.”
    “What if they find out what happened at Pleasant Point?”
    “It’s not like you actually succeeded in burning the place down,” Greer said. “Anyway, that’s all history. If they ask, you’ll tell them you won’t be smoking inside the building. Right?”
    Dearie shrugged.
    “Right? This is important, Dearie. It’s a big safety issue.”
    “All right. I’ll only smoke outside.”
    *
    Joenelle Horan toured them around Vista Haven Senior Assisted Living Center. It was smaller than Dearie’s previous address. “Only sixty beds,” Mrs. Horan said proudly. “We keep it small because our residents are like family.” The main building was one story, with two wings jutting out from a central atrium that held the reception area, residential living area, dining hall, and a large multipurpose room where residents could play cards, watch movies, take classes, or do crafts.
    After the tour, Greer sat anxiously outside the director’s office while Mrs. Horan and a staff physician’s assistant interviewed Dearie.
    *
    “I think your grandmother will be very happy here,” Mrs. Horan told Greer as she handed over a stack of paperwork to be filled out.
    “I