Vivian could not believe her life had come this. In her mind she was still a young, carefree girl of 28, but her family, who saw her as a feeble old woman of 80, insisted she leave her home of 25 years and move into “Magnolia Gardens” -- an old folks home. She took a deep breath and smoothed out the wrinkles in her light blue shirt that were left by the seat belt in the car. She adjusted the waist of her navy blue polyester pants. She patted her snow white hair. She set her face to a pleasant look, not quite smiling and hopefully not showing just how scared she was. The last time she remembered being this scared was walking into the school on her first day of public school after being home schooled all her life. Once again, she was leaving the familiar comfort of home to enter a strange new environment. She then reached out her hand toward the door.

“I’ll get that, Mother,” said her daughter Andrea as she rushed around the car to her mother’s side. Andrea was tall, and as she liked to put it, big boned. Her hair was as white as her mother’s thanks to the genetics of prematurely gray hair. She was dressed in jeans and a green t-shirt and wore her favorite flower print shoes. Andrea opened the door and stood aside to allow her mother to enter. Vivian took a step trying to act more confident than she felt. Andrea followed her mother into the building and then offered her mother her arm. Vivian looked at her daughter’s offered arm and then down the hall. Just like on that first day of school all those years before, she really wanted to walk in on her own, but, as it had been before, she would have to be escorted, this time by her daughter. She took her daughter’s arm and walked down the hall to the room that would be her new home.

A month ago, her three children had decided she could no longer live alone. She had lived in her house alone for over 25 years, but a broken leg several years earlier had brought her two sons and her daughter to her side. Together they had decided their mother could no longer live in her own house. After bouncing between her older son’s and daughter’s houses, she had asked for a place of her own. Her children researched living options in the area and decided she would live at Magnolia Gardens, a senior living center in her town. It meant she could live somewhat on her own but be close enough to participate in the activities in town that she loved so much. They’d toured it and it seemed nice enough, but all she could see was everything she’d be giving up. Her home, her quiet life, her ability to come and go as she pleased.

She walked with her daughter down the hall to her new room. Her children had spent the previous day moving some of her things out of her house and into the room she’d be living in. She knew she’d be spending the first few days there unpacking and getting settled in. The work would give her something to do to help take her mind off just how scared she was. Her daughter stopped at the door to her room. The door was closed. Vivian stood looking at the off white door trying to imagine how life would be living on the other side of the door. Her name was written in pen on a piece of masking tape that was placed over the name of the previous resident. She looked at it and noticed right away that they’d misspelled her name. Why did people think there had to be a Y in her name?

“They have ordered a new nameplate for your door. They promised me that it would have your name spelled correctly,” her daughter said when she caught her mother staring at the handwritten nameplate. “You ready?” Vivian shook her head. All she could think was how much she wanted to go back home. She took another deep breath and then pushed the door open.

The door swung open revealing her new home. She peered in and took a tentative step. She was shocked by the beigeness of it all. She reached out to touch the wall for stability as she walked into the room. To the right was the door to the bathroom. She noticed a toilet, sink and a walk-in shower. She took a few more steps and she was in the room that would serve as both her bedroom and living room. The walls were made of cinder blocks and reminded her of the room she’s stayed in for a month while she went through physical therapy after she’d broken her leg. The room did not feel warm or inviting. She wondered what she’d be able to do to make it feel a little more like home. Her bed was against the wall on the right. The bed was made but she did not recognize the bed spread or sheets.

“We got you new sheets and a comforter. I choose blue ones because I know it’s your favorite color,” said Andrea when she noticed her mother staring at the bed.

Next to the bed on the right was her night stand. Her clock radio and lamp were sitting on top of the night stand. On the opposite wall was her dresser. A few framed pictures were arranged on top. There were pictures of her children and grandchildren, her mother and her sister. She’d deal with those later. She did not really want her sister’s smiling face staring back at her. She went over and opened a drawer that should have held her sweaters. Instead of her sweaters she found her pants. She’d have to deal with that later, too. She closed the drawer and walked over to the recliner by the window. Her old recliner had been in bad shape and her children had insisted she deserved a new one. The recliner was also blue. She turned and lowered herself into her chair. She glanced over at the window. Her daughter walked over to the window and opened the blinds. The window overlooked her fenced patio.The dingy gray fence was about six feet tall. All she could see over the fence was the sky, which was a dull gray.

“I am going to move the car and get the things out of the trunk. Will you be OK here until I get back?”

Vivian nodded, still staring at the window at the gray fence and gray sky. From her window at home she could see her yard and garden. The view had always made her happy. This view only depressed her more. She turned her attention to her room. In the corner next to the window was the door that lead to the porch. On the opposite wall was the door to the closet. She could see some of her clothes hanging in the closet. There were boxes on the floor and some plastic containers on the shelf above the rod. She wondered what had become of her books and yarn. She hoped that some of the boxes held those items and her knick knacks. Other than her favorite lamp beside the bed, the room felt like it belonged to a stranger and she was just a visitor waiting for the resident to return. She closed her eyes and leaned back against the chair. It was comfortable.

Her daughter returned a few minutes later. She carried a box with some bags piled on top. She set the box on the bed and placed the bags beside it. She picked up the box and placed it on top of a stack of boxes in her closet. She pointed at the box on the bottom.

“Your books are in there.” She paused and looked around the room. “I’ll look for a small bookshelf that you can put under the window. Your African violets can sit on top.” She turned back to the closet. “Your knick knacks are in this box.” She pointed to the middle box. “And this one has your yarn, needles and other craft items,” she said putting her hand on the box she’d just brought in. She went over to the bed and opened the bags. She pulled out blue towels she showed them to her Mom. “We got you new towels, too. I know the ones you had were older than I am,” she smiled at her mother.

Her mother looked back at her with a blank expression. “Did you get washcloths?”

Her daughter opened all the bags looking for washcloths. “No, I’ll get you some next time I am at the store.”

Vivian marveled at how someone could buy new towels and forget to get washcloths. It must be something about her daughter’s generation. They must not use washcloths, just those funny scrubby things her daughter had in her shower. Vivian shook her head then turned to look out the window. Looking at the grayness was less depressing to her than looking at the room where she’d be living for the rest of her life, which at this point she hoped would not be long. She closed her eyes.

Her daughter took out her phone and consulted it. “It’s almost time for lunch. Do you want to get freshened up and then walk over to the dining area?”

Vivian opened her eyes and sighed. No, she did not really want to go to the dining area. If it were anything like the cafeteria of her high school, everyone would stare at her as she carried her lunch tray around the room looking for someplace to sit. If she sat at the wrong table it could mean being ostracized by one or more groups of people. But she was hungry. “Will you go with me?” she asked her daughter.

Her daughter nodded. “I’d like to see how the food is. They kept telling me all about their certified dietician and new chef.”

Vivian stood and walked to the bathroom to freshen up. Her daughter was waiting for her by the door. She held out her arm for her mother and Vivian took it. Together they walked to the dining area.

The dining area was just a short distance from Vivian’s room. It was on one side of a large open common area. The other part of the open area was set up like a large living room with sofas, chairs and a TV above a decorative fireplace. A few of the residents were seated on the sofas watching the TV. Others were scattered at various tables in the dining area. As she expected, the residents seated in the dining area looked up as they approached. They watched as Vivian and her daughter selected a table and had a seat. They continued to watch Vivian and her daughter and even seemed to be whispering to each other about them. It was high school all over again. She wondered what they could be saying. They did not even know her. She had chosen her outfit today because it did look good on her and made her look socially acceptable. She had always gotten compliments when she’d worn it.

Vivian looked around the room at the residents. She hoped to find a familiar face. She had lived in the small town for 35 years and in that time gotten to know quite a few people. Some had died over the years, but she thought that there would still be people she knew here. None of the faces looked even the least bit familiar. She looked at her daughter. She was smiling pleasantly. It was the face she put on when she was in unfamiliar surroundings and she wanted to look confident. Her daughter turned to look at her and smiled. Vivian wondered what she was thinking. “How does a daughter feel when dropping her mother off at a rest home -- excuse me -- a senior living center,” she thought as she watched her daughter survey the room.

Something caught her daughter’s attention. Vivian turned to look in the direction her daughter was looking. A woman in a wheelchair was entering the commons area and several of the residents who had been watching TV stood and followed the woman into the dining area. They all looked toward where Vivian and her daughter were sitting. The woman scowled when she saw them, making all the lines in her face appear deeper. The people with her looked frightened. They glanced toward Vivian then back at the woman in the wheelchair. The woman continued toward them and positioned her wheelchair at the spot on the table where there were no chairs. She put her arms on the table and leaned forward. The others stood behind her waiting to see what was going to happen.

The woman squinted at Vivian. “You are new here,” she stated. She took a long look at Vivian. “This is my table.” She softened a bit. “You are welcome to join us for lunch today,” she emphasized the word today to make sure they understood this was a one time arrangement. She turned to look at the people behind her. She spoke to two of the women. “You two will find somewhere else to sit today.” Their faces fell. They turned and went over to the next table and positioned themselves so they could watch what was going on at the table from which they had been banished. Vivian noticed that they were glaring at her. She felt uncomfortable.

Her daughter smiled at the woman in the wheelchair. “My name is Andrea. This is my mother, Vivian Cowan. She is moving in here today.” Vivian smiled at the woman. The woman smiled back but the lines in her face made her look like she was still scowling.

“My name is Edna White. Were you a member of the First Baptist Church?” Vivian smiled. She thought the woman looked familiar.

“Yes, I was.”

“I thought so,” said Edna. She motioned to the others and they took seats around the table. There were enough chairs for 7 people and Edna in her wheelchair made 8. The others shifted uncomfortably in their chairs. They looked at Edna and back at Vivian.

There were four women and one man sitting at the table with them. They all appeared to be around the ages of Vivian and Edna. All were dressed nicely. The man appeared to be married to the woman sitting to his right. Edna introduced the other people at the table by first name. The only name she remembered was Frieda, the woman sitting on her other side.

Frieda smiled at Vivian. “I was also at First Baptist. We were both Sunday School teachers, but it’s been years ago. I’d be surprised if you remembered me.” She looked at Vivian hopefully.

Vivian smiled. “Yes, I do remember. How is your daughter?”

Frieda smiled broadly. “She is well. She married a doctor and has three beautiful children -- my grandchildren. She lives in Atlanta and comes to visit once a year on my birthday. I am so blessed.” Her smile seemed forced as if she was trying to be happy over her daughter visiting only once a year.

Vivian glanced at her daughter. She lived in the same town. She wondered how often she’d come to visit. She looked around at all the others and wondered how often their family came to visit. None of the others smiled. They all stared at Vivian like she were the enemy. She looked around the dining area and saw the way the others looked at Edna’s table. She looked around the table. They’d apparently chosen the works possible table at which to sit. She knew she would definitely not sit there ever again. She looked around the room trying to find an empty spot at any of the other tables. They all looked full and the people none too friendly. She wondered if she could just eat all her meals in her room. A woman interrupted her thoughts by placing a plate of food in front of her. Vivian smiled up at her and said, “Thank you.”

The woman looked at her like she had two heads. “You’re welcome,” she mumbled barely audibly as she glanced toward Edna. Edna scowled at her. She bowed her head and placed a plate in front of Andrea.

“Thank you!” she said cheerily and smiled at the woman, who did not meet her gaze.

Edna scowled at them. “She’s the new cook. She’s been here about a week. She’ll learn her place soon, I hope.”

The woman was not skinny. That was a good sign. Her husband had always said, “Don’t trust a skinny cook.” She looked like she was in her 50s. Her black hair was mostly covered with a shower cap. She wore a maroon shirt and tan pants under her stained white apron. She had on practical black shoes, the kind people wore when they were on their feet all day. The cook glanced over her shoulder at Vivian. There was a bit of a twinkle in her black eyes and skin around her eyes wrinkled as if she were smiling.

Vivian looked down at her plate of food. It smelled good. There was a large piece of meatloaf, mashed potatoes, black-eyed peas and a roll. Vivian found it hard to believe a dietician had planned this meal. Where were the green vegetables or any other color besides white and brown?

“My potatoes are cold,” Edna shouted at the cook. The cook scurried to her side and mumbled an apology. She took the plate to the kitchen and returned a few moments later with another plate and set it in front of Edna. Edna looked it over and waved the cook away.

Everyone at the table had been served, but Vivian waited to pick up her fork. She looked around to see what everyone else was doing. A few people had their heads bowed. When they raised their heads they looked toward Edna who had her head bowed. When she lifted her head, she looked around the table and then picked up her fork with her pudgy pink fingers. She picked up a forkful of mashed potatoes and put them in her mouth. After she did, everyone else picked up their forks and started eating. Vivian and Andrea looked at each other then picked up their forks.

Andrea looked around the table. Everyone was eating in silence. She put down her fork and took a sip of tea. “What kinds of activities do they have here?” she asked of the table. Everyone looked at her and then at Edna. Edna paused with her fork in the air and looked at Andrea over the tops of her glasses. Her gray eyes narrowed to slits as she stared at Andrea.

“They publish a calendar. It’s also posted over there,” she motioned with her fork to the bulletin board behind her. Andrea smiled and thanked her. Edna resumed eating. Andrea caught her mother’s eye and shrugged. The entire table finished their lunch in silence.

The sound of laughter came from a few tables over. Vivian looked over at the people. All of them were laughing. She wished she were over at that table. She made a note of which table it was. She planned to ask to join them for dinner. She looked around the room. Most of the people were talking to the other people at their table. It looked like everyone else was enjoying their lunch. The cook even smiled as she went around to the tables offering refills of tea and water. She glanced over at Edna periodically.

When Edna was done eating she pushed her plate away. The cook who had been standing against the wall behind Edna for the last several minutes hurried over to Edna to clear her place. Edna put her hands on the table and looked around. Her gray hair was short and curled. Every hair was in place. She wore a white button up blouse with pearl buttons and a ruffled collar. She had had lipstick on when she first arrived but it had faded from her wiping her lips as she ate. One by one the members of Edna’s table finished eating and pushed their plates away. The cook grabbed their plates as quickly as she had Edna’s.

When Vivian was finished she pushed her plate away. The cook came over to take her plate. “Thank you. Lunch was good.” She smiled at the cook and she gave Vivian a small smile in return.

Once all the plates were cleared, Edna turned to Vivian. “It’s been a few years. How have you been?” Everyone turned to look at Vivian to wait for her response.

Vivian looked around the table and then smiled at Edna. “I’ve been well,” she responded. “How have you been?”

Edna smiled back. “Besides being exiled to this place, I have been fine. I have arthritis in my back so it’s easier for me to get around here in my wheelchair. My family moved me here about five years ago. It’s nice enough, but you need to be firm with the help.” She looked over the top of her glasses at Vivian to make sure that she understood that last point.

Edna pushed her wheelchair back from the table and the woman to her right stood and rushed over to stand behind Edna’s wheelchair. She pushed Edna down the hall to her room. When Edna was out of sight and hopefully out of earshot, the others breathed a collective sigh of relief. They began talking quietly to each other. Vivian looked at her daughter and nodded. Vivian stood and pushed in her chair. She smiled at the remaining members of the table. “It was very nice to meet you.” She turned to Frieda. “It was nice to see you again, Frieda.” Frieda smiled at her. “I’ll come by later to visit with you.”

“I’d like that,” Vivian said.

Vivian and her daughter walked back to her room. Her daughter gave her a hug and promised to check on her in a few days. Vivian watched her leave, then went to the dresser and removed some of the pictures. She put them face down in the top drawer. She’d deal with them later. She sat down in the recliner, put her head back and closed her eyes. She tried to pretend she was back in her own home, but she could not block out the sounds and smells of her room.

A few moments later there was a knock at the door and a lady with shoulder length brown hair dressed in a skirt and matching jacket walked in.

“Vivian?” she called out as she entered.

“Yes,” Vivian replied as she stood to greet her guest.

“My name is Elaine. I am the manager here. Are you getting settled in alright?”

“Yes, all my things have been moved in. I had lunch in the dining area. I got to meet a few of the residents. Some of them I already knew.”

“Well, that’s good. I have some paperwork here we need to complete. Do you need me to help you?” She handed Vivian a clipboard holding several pages. There was a pen on a chain attached to the top of the board. Vivian looked at the pages.

“No, I should be able to handle this.”

“Well, then I will leave you to it and come by later to pick them up or you drop them by my office in the front of the building.” She turned to go but paused in the doorway and called back over her shoulder, “Let me know if you need anything!” and then closed the door behind her.

Vivian sat down in her chair and looked at the paper on the top. The first thing she noticed was that her name was misspelled just like it was on the tape on her door. She scratched through it and wrote the correct spelling. She read over the first page and then signed the bottom. She turned to the next page. It was full of small print and she did not really want to read it. She put the clipboard on the window sill and stared out the window.

A few moments later there was another knock on the door. Vivian expected it to be the manager again and waited for her to enter. When no one opened the door, Vivian called out, 'Come in!'

The door opened and Frieda peeked her head around the door. “Are you busy? Is this a good time?"

Vivian smiled and stood. "Yes! Please do come in," she motioned to the chair. "Please have a seat."  

Freida looked around the room. She had brown hair that was cut in a short pixie making her thin face look too small for her body. She wore an oversized light pink blouse and brown pants. She had very expensive looking rings on her fingers and a fancy gold chain around her neck. She hesitated for a minute, but went over to the chair and sat down. Vivian sat on the bed on the end closest to the chair.

“I am so glad you stopped by!' Vivian said, patting Frieda's hand resting on the arm of the chair.

“I wanted to come by and welcome you to Magnolia Gardens. I don't think you got much of a welcome at lunch.” she smiled. "Edna can be a bit of a pill at times, and today she seemed worse than usual, but generally she is pretty friendly. She likes things a certain way and she generally gets what she wants here. For a while her wheelchair squeaked ever so slightly when she rolled it down the hallways. A few of the residents took to calling her 'the squeaky wheel'. You definitely know when she is not happy about something and the staff here tend to jump when she tells them.” Frieda glanced at the door and then leaned in closer to Vivian. She lowered her voice. “She was upset today because you and your daughter were sitting at her table without permission. She has a group of people she likes to sit with. The group only changes if Edna asks them to leave or someone moves on.”

Vivian tried to decide if she should tell Frieda that she had no intention of sitting at Edna's table ever again. She just smiled. “Thank you for that information. I will be sure to stay away from Edna's table.”

Frieda smiled. “You may be invited to sit with her at some point, and then it's OK. It's a good sign when Edna invites you to her table. There are perks to being in her social circle here.” Frieda seemed like she had said all she had come to stay. She stood and arranged the sleeves of her blouse.

“Thank you for stopping by,” Vivian said as she stood, a little confused at Frieda’s sudden departure. Vivian followed Frieda to the door. Frieda stopped at the door and turned to Vivian. “I hope you will join us for our singings on Monday afternoons. The churches in town send someone to play the piano and lead us in hymns.” She looked at her wrist watch. “It starts at 2pm, that's not long from now. We meet in the common area next to the dining area.”

Vivian nodded. She wondered if she should ask if there was any particular place she should not sit to avoid upsetting Edna. “Thank you for the invitation. I am a bit tired this afternoon, but I will keep that in mind.”

“We meet every Monday afternoon at 2pm. Edna always attends. It's one of the events she's organized for those of us who cannot make it to church on Sundays.” Frieda turned and walked out. Vivian watched her leave then closed the door. She went back to her chair and picked up the clipboard and began filling out all the forms. She heard the singing from her room. she hummed along with a few of the songs she knew. By the time she was done with the paperwork the signing had ended. Vivian was in better spirits and decided to venture out and explore her new home and drop off the forms at the manager's office.

Vivian opened her door and looked out. Opposite her door was a wall with a painting of a lighthouse in a gilded frame. It brought back memories of her childhood. She had lived near the shore and loved to go down the beach. At night she could see the beam from the lighthouse from her window. She looked down the hall to the left. That was the way to the common area. To the right was the front door and the manager's office. She decided to go that way first so she could drop off her forms. She walked by each of the rooms and noted the names that were on the door. Most of the doors were partially or completely closed. She peered in the doors that were open. The rooms looked similar to hers. Of the residents she could see most, were sitting in chairs and staring out the window. One lady had lovely flowers blooming on her porch. Vivian made a note of the room so she could come back to visit with her and talk about flowers. She found Frieda’s room just a few down from hers. Her door was closed. She had a wreath of plastic flowers hanging on the door with her nameplate in the middle.

When she got to the main entrance she looked at the doors on each side of the hall on either side of the main doors. They were obviously resident rooms. She turned around and looked at the wall on the inside part of the building and saw the door marked manager. Vivian knocked tentatively. She could hear voices inside. She tried again a bit harder. She heard someone from inside call out “Come in!”

Vivian opened the door and peered in. A woman was sitting at a desk looking her direction. She wore the same maroon shirt and tan pants that the cook had worn. She had blonde hair, blue eyes, wore too much makeup and her fingernails were painted bright red. The sign on her desk said, "Marilyn Abbott, Secretary." Vivian walked in and greeted her. “Good afternoon, Marilyn. My name is Vivian Cowan. I am a new resident as of today.”

The woman looked at Vivian with a blank look. “My name is not Marilyn.” she said flatly.

“Sorry,” stammered Vivian, pointing at the sign on the desk.

The woman said, “Oh” and then stared at Vivian. “What do you want?”

Vivian handed her the clipboard with the forms. “The manager asked me to return these when I was done.”

The woman at the desk took them from her and stuck the clipboard on top of a stack of papers and books on her desk. she looked back at Vivian, “Anything else?”

Vivian shook her head, “Sorry to bother you.”

She returned to the hall and to her tour of the building. Vivian took a few steps and then turned to look back at the door to the office. She shuddered. So far she was not impressed with the people at Magnolia Gardens. They seemed like a very cold group of people. She hoped not everyone was like that. She'd try to keep an open mind, but she was still feeling very alone. She completed the rest of the circuit and arrived back at the door to her room. She noticed a woman with a walker coming in the front door. She watched to see which way she would go. She headed toward Vivian. As she approached, Vivian greeted her with a smile and a cheery “Good Afternoon.” The woman did not break her pace or acknowledge Vivian in any way. Vivian shrugged. Another odd resident -- or maybe she was the odd one.

A voice behind her said, “Don’t pay Esther any mind. She does not socialize with anyone.” Vivian turned around to see a relatively young woman standing in front of the door to the room next to hers. She was not wearing the uniform worn by most of the people who worked there and she seemed far too young to be a resident.  Her hair was not colored so it had the streaks of gray mixed in with the brown curls. She had on jeans and a blue sweater. “She walks around the campus for about an hour twice a day. I greet her every time I see her, but she does not look my way or give any indication she hears me.” The woman walked over to Vivian. “My name is Ginger. It looks like we'll be neighbors. I am glad to meet you.” She smiled and Vivian smiled back. So far she seemed nice and quite normal. Maybe there was hope of finding a friend.

“I’m Vivian. Thank you for the explanation. I was beginning to think I was the only normal person here.” Ginger looked around and leaned in closer. “There are only a few of us here. We keep it quiet because if they found out, they might put us in charge of this place.” Vivian gasped and looked at Ginger. Her green eyes twinkled with mischief. Vivian laughed. She had found a friend. Vivian invited Ginger into her room. Ginger looked over the room and at the pictures on her dresser.

“How many children and grandchildren do you have?” Ginger asked as she positioned herself on the edge of the bed.

“Two boys and one girl. And one grandson and three granddaughters. My daughter and her two children live close by, but my sons both live several hours away.”

Ginger was not one to beat around the bush. “And how often do you think they will visit?” She tilted her head quizzically.

Vivian had pushed those thoughts out of her mind. She collapsed into the chair and looked at Ginger. Her eyes became moist and she blinked quickly to keep from crying. “I don’t know. I hope to see my daughter regularly, but she’s busy with work and her two kids who are both teenagers. I know she’ll mean to visit, and promise she will visit, but honestly, I don’t expect to see her that often. My older son lives an 8-hour drive away. If I get to see him once a year, I’ll be surprised. He rarely calls or emails. I only know what’s going on by following his Facebook page. My younger son only lives about a 4-hour drive away. He still has friends here that he visits. I hope to see him a few times a year. He checks on me often and is always quick to respond when I have a question about finances or something -- he’s an accountant.” Vivian turned her head away from Ginger and looked out the window. She took a deep breath. “I feel like a horse who has been put out to pasture.”

Ginger patted her arm. “I know, Honey. I remember. But it’s really not that bad here. You’ll settle in and almost forget you have kids who never visit,” Ginger chuckled and looked to see if Vivian had a reaction.

Vivian turned back toward Ginger. “Thank you! It feels good to say what’s been rattling around in my brain for the last month while my kids were deciding what they should do with me.” Vivian took a deep breath, composed herself and set her face into a smile. “Do you have children or grandchildren?” “One of each and a great grandchild, too,” Ginger replied. “My daughter has a son. My grandson, who is in his thirties and quite successful, is the one who looks after me. He visits a few times a month, more often if I need something. He gives me an allowance to spend, but will make sure I have everything I need. My daughter has very little to do with me. I see her for a few minutes on my birthday and at Christmas. The rest of the time she cannot be bothered to leave her fancy house, and her fancy husband and her fancy friends to slum with her embarrassingly not-fancy mother.” Ginger laughed. “It does no good to cry over it, so I just laugh at the silliness of it all.”

“How long have you been here?” Vivian asked.

“About 5 years,” Ginger replied after taking a second or two to try to remember just how long it had really been. “Let’s see. It was after my husband died and he died the year after my grandson graduated from college.” She stared up at the ceiling and waved her finger in the air like she was solving a math problem. “He took 7 years to make it through college because he got married in his sophomore year-- had to get married. So, college took a backseat to working to support his little family. His daughter just turned 12.” Ginger got a surprised expression. “Then that means I’ve been in here 7 years.” She chuckled again. “My time flies when you are dumped off to live your final years of life in a old folks home.” Her eyes twinkled as she winked at Vivian. “Really, we just have to make the best of it and I suspect that we will become great friends and partners in crime in no time at all.” She stood. “I must get back to my room. It’s time for my afternoon nap and if I don’t get my full 30 minutes, then I am cranky at dinner.” She winked. Vivian was glad she winked because she could not yet tell when Ginger was being serious or kidding. She suspected Ginger may rarely be serious. “I hope you will join our table at dinner. We have such a great time kidding each other.” She leaned in close and lowered her voice, “It will be much more fun than sitting at that old bitty Edna’s table, I can promise you that!”

Vivian laughed. “Then I shall be happy to join you!” Ginger saw herself out and Vivian returned to her chair. At least now she could look forward to dinner.

Vivian passed the afternoon going through the boxes her daughter had left in the closet. She put a few of the knick knacks out around the room. She was starting to feel a little better. The room felt a little more like home. There was a knock at the door and Vivian went to open it.

“Supper time!” Ginger held her arms out above her head and grinned from ear to ear.

Vivian laughed. “You must have had a good nap!” she kidded Ginger.

Ginger nodded. “Ready for supper?”

Vivian followed her to the dining area. She noticed that Edna was already there and the chairs around her table were all filled. Edna watched Ginger and Vivian walk in and did not take her eyes off them until they were seated at their table. Edna said something to the people at her table and they all turned and looked their way. Ginger grinned and waved at them. Edna scowled back. Ginger broke out into laughter. “Ah, I’ve spoiled all their fun.” The rest of the members of the table laughed with her.

“Vivian, I’d like to introduce you to our table of social rejects. To your left is Myrna. She’s been here about six months. Her parents died and she was not able to stay in their home alone. Her brothers put her here and still take pretty good care of her.” Myrna looked to be in her 40s. She had a friendly, lopsided smile. Her strawberry blonde hair fell into her eyes. “Hi, Vivian. I live next door to you.” She smiled. “If you ever want a soda, don’t buy them from the machine. They cost too much. I have cold sodas I sell for much less.”

“Next, is Dorothy. She’s been here the longest -- almost 10 years.” She winked at Dorothy.

“That’s a record to be proud of here,” Dorothy grinned. She was tall and thin. She had long white hair that she pulled back into a ponytail. She wore a shapeless linen top with a green pattern. She looked like an old hippy.

“She lost her husband a few months ago. He was also a member of our group and the reason we have an opening for another misfit.”

“I am sorry for your loss,” Vivian said quietly.

“Thank you. I do miss him, but this group keeps me going on the bad days. I am very glad to have you join us. I am sure Harry would be happy to know we found such a great person to fill the void.” She spoke slowly like she was thinking about each word. She had a soft and melodic voice. Vivian found it soothing. Her smile wrinkled her crepe paper skin. One could tell that she had gotten all her wrinkles from smiling and laughing.

“And finally we have Beth.” Beth looked down and smiled. “She does not talk much, but she has a great laugh. That’s why we keep her around.” Ginger elbowed Beth. She let a giggle escape. It sounded like a bird chirping. “Very nice to meet you.” she said quietly while looking at Vivian through her eyelashes.

“And that’s us!” The cook arrived just then and placed plates in front of Myrna and Ginger. “Ms. Vivian, we have a choice of sweet or mashed potatoes tonight.”

“Sweet potatoes sound good. Thank you.”

The cook smiled. “You will enjoy this group -- “ she looked over her shoulder toward Edna’s table, “much more than where you sat at lunch. I’ll be right back with your plate.” Everyone else had their plate and was politely waiting for Vivian to get hers.

Vivian looked around at them. “Eat!” she said. “I am not Edna!” Everyone at the table burst into laughter.

The cook returned a few minutes later with her plate and smiled. “See, sweetie? I told you!’ Vivian nodded and smiled. The food may not have been any better than lunch but the company was definitely better. Vivian did not remember when she had laughed as much.