Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 83699 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83699 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
He laughed from deep in his gut. The way Ava had always made him laugh. And the way she’d always made him feel deep down inside.
Rising, he flourished a hand toward the conference table. “I’ve set up the big-screen monitor for us.”
He pulled out a chair for her and, once she was settled, dragged his own close. Her scent surrounded him, something sweet and slightly citrus. Something uniquely Ava. Perhaps a signature scent she’d found since they’d been together? Or maybe that was just her power.
As difficult as it was to concentrate, they went through the staffing requirements, the numbers he’d need to serve, the specific mealtimes.
“My residents like routine,” she told him. “They’re waiting right outside the dining room when the doors open.”
“You don’t have a lot of people at each site.” Anywhere from one hundred to one-fifty.
She smiled, her lipstick glistening, beckoning. “I don’t run massive facilities as if they were factories. I want my homes to feel more like a community. Which is what we need to talk about. I told you about the Sunday brunches. The main course rotates in that four-week cycle I mentioned—pork tenderloin, roast turkey, baked ham, roast beef. It reminds everyone of the Sunday roast their moms used to serve. We make each of the holiday brunches special, too, with decorations on the tables and themed desserts. Every month, we host a birthday dinner for residents with birthdays in that month, and they get a choice of filet mignon or lobster.”
He was taken aback. “Whoa. That’s amazing.”
“My residents deserve it.” That was her theme in everything she did.
“We also need to deliver meals to those who can’t get to the dining room. I don’t believe I mentioned that before. Either they’re ill or more infirm, or just don’t like to socialize. There’s a separate dining room in assisted living as well as memory care and the hospital wing. The food doesn’t need to be different, though. Just the delivery.”
“You really know what you’re doing.”
She took the praise with a smile. “It’s taken years.”
He found himself equally concerned about giving her residents the best experience possible. He admired how she’d thought through all their needs, as well as providing variations they could enjoy, like the special dinners and brunches.
“I like to make each community feel cozy, like being at home rather than just institutional. We have events on Friday afternoons where we provide appetizers and wine just before dinner.” She paused, breathed in. “I’m throwing a lot at you. I don’t expect that you’ll be able to accommodate all of this right away. I know it’ll take time.”
“This is why we’re sitting down. We didn’t talk about much more than the basics the other day. Now I’m glad to know the full scope. And yes, we can accommodate it all.” He would give her people the best care they’d ever known.
And he’d make sure he gave it to her too.
* * *
“What do you do for holidays?” Ransom sat back in his chair, rolling a pencil between his fingers. He’d been taking notes all along.
“Like I said, we have decorations and themed desserts for brunch on Christmas, New Year’s, Thanksgiving, and Easter. We serve a roast like we do for Sunday brunches.”
“What about July Fourth or Memorial Day or Labor Day?”
She tipped her head. “We decorate the tables, put up flags, banners, that kind of thing.”
“But what about a special menu?”
Her whole body felt as though it glittered as brightly as her shoes. “What are you thinking?”
He shrugged. “Something like bringing out a big barbecue in that quad between the auditorium and dining hall. Say we roast hot dogs and hamburgers and ribs on Memorial Day and July Fourth. Corned beef and cabbage and green beer for St. Patrick’s Day.”
“You think big.”
“Of course. I’m a chef. That’s what I do.”
He thought outside the box. “I love it. Let’s do it. Special menus for all the holidays. They’ll love the barbecue atmosphere.” She laughed. “And green beer.”
“We’ll set up tables outside on the lawns. You could even have games.”
“Perfect.”
“How about a themed dinner once a month? Like a Caribbean night. An Oktoberfest night. Things like that.”
She couldn’t disguise her awe. “You’re brilliant. I could even bring in a polka band for Oktoberfest. And a steel-drum band for Caribbean night.”
They riffed off each other. “How about a mariachi band for a Mexican night? With lots of margaritas.”
“And along with the green beer, Irish dancers for St. Patrick’s Day.”
Why had she never thought of things like this before?
He seemed to read her mind. “You always had so many other things on your mind. And you provide a great experience.”
“But this will make it so much better. You’re an absolute genius.”
She meant it. He’d always been first in his field, and he was creative in ways she’d never imagined.