Mr. Billingsley

By Edward W. Pluemer

My wife and I had the good fortune to be able to visit my mother several times at her assisted-living facility during her last years.

While the church-run facility did an excellent job of looking after my mother during her final years, I was struck by the eventual transition of the residents from vibrant participants to frail elderly fringe beings. Within the four-month intervals between our visits, there could sometimes be stunning differences in the appearance and behavior of the residents we had come to know personally. Over the course of each passing year, multiple residents would either be moved to the adjoining nursing wing, go home to their families, and/or pass away. We witnessed how the natural aging process brought physical decline and social withdrawal to so many of the residents, despite the sincere efforts of the staff.

My hope is that this book spreads awareness of the sad and inevitable ending so many seniors face. Too many spend the last years of their lives alone before taking their worldly accomplishments and contributions quietly to their grave, so often unacknowledged or underappreciated.

Seniors are our personal history and most precious human resource. We, as a society, will be far richer if we love, listen to, and learn from them.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Apr 20, 2018
• ISBN: 9781984514905

Edward W. Pluemer

Edward W. Pluemer, a 67-year-old retired businessman, currently resides with his wife of 31 years, in San Pedro, CA. Blindspot is Pluemer’s third, self-published book, following two works released in 2015. The first, Shout Out, follows the true-to-life travails of five hometown rockers, during their meteoric rise from local bar band to national recording and touring headliners. Follow along as the band, Shout Out, resurrects its career by combining hard work with a unique strategy, then is jumpstarted by a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity from beyond. His second work, What Best Friends Do, also published in 2015, is a rollicking, romantic comedy about the continually intersecting lives of two people, so totally different, yet almost forced to be together. What Best Friends Do, illustrates how life can be much more than meets the eye. And, unknown to us, a plan for our future may already be in place - like it or not.

Book preview

PROLOGUE

It’s sad to think that our final years might be spent in lonely exile from the world and the people we’ve known and loved. And yet so many seniors experience just such a fate. For too many, the reward for living a long life is to outlive your friends and family, while spending the remainder of your life in a strange place, surrounded by unfamiliar faces.

My mother was fortunate to live in an assisted-living facility the last few years of her life. The care was good, and the company was pleasant. It was perhaps the best you could provide for a loved one. And yet it was still so sad to see her spending so much time alone. It may have affected the family more than it did my mother. But still, for the first few years, we always hoped there was something more we could do for Mom. But over time, as we got to know her fellow residents, it was clear that many had far less to look forward to. My sister lived nearby and made frequent visits to Mom’s home, checking on her care, taking Mother out for meals, and shopping until Mom lost her mobility, stamina, and interest. My wife and I traveled to Florida three times each year to visit Mom. Despite the efforts of the family and the assisted-living staff, the majority of time Mom spent in her facility, she was alone in her room.

As mentioned, some of the other residents never appeared to have visitors. Inquiring with the staff members, they confirmed that a few were either completely alone or, for unknown reasons, rarely received visits from family or friends. I found most of the residents eager to talk about their lives and their interests; there just weren’t many listeners available. The limited time we had with my mother prevented me from spending more time listening to her neighbors, though their stories were often quite interesting.

When I started thinking about a topic for my next book, I was continually drawn to my experiences at Mother’s retirement home. In this modern era, where time is always of the essence, so many things are overlooked in the technological rush forward. Old qualities like civility, patience, respect, etiquette, and even common conversation are lost in the relentless march to the future. And the past, which used to provide the lessons we learned by, is dismissed as irrelevant in our modern world. It is a fateful oversight and I believe many will ultimately sense that their lives lacked something; something fundamental and essential. Something that would have made their lives richer and more meaningful.

Younger generations will find their own compass, while older generations will be left behind. Maybe there has always been a generational gap, and it’s just more pronounced with today’s accelerated pace of change.

Todd Jeffries struggles with his own educationally-enhanced generation gap, while searching for a new direction in his life. But first he must choose between the ideologies of his college teachings and the realities of life, as exemplified by the residents and his coworkers in the assisted-living facility where he works. Todd also learns that the lessons in life can arrive in ways ranging from loud and dramatic to hushed and gentle - and most anything in between.

CHAPTER 1

Mr. Todd’s Wild Ride

He was almost in the clear. It was Friday afternoon, and he literally had one foot out the door when he was stopped in his tracks by the distinctive and authoritative voice of Mary Rose, the head day nurse. He flinched slightly and then turned back to face his supervisor.

Oh, Todd, she said crisply, we’re going to need your help tomorrow morning. I hope it doesn’t create a problem for you.

Of course, it really didn’t matter to Nurse Mary Rose whether it created a problem or not. She was just doing her job. And it didn’t hurt that her authority was irreproachable at the Twin Palms Retirement Center. So like it or not, Todd would be accommodating her wishes—or looking for work on Monday. Nurse Mary Rose had always been firm but, overall, with the exception of today, reasonably fair during his first three months at the assisted-living facility. But she did take her responsibilities most seriously.

We’re going to be shorthanded, and we’ll need you for the morning shift. You can leave right after the lunch hour.

Todd summoned a smile and responded unenthusiastically, That won’t be a problem, Nurse Mary Rose. I don’t have any plans for the morning.

While he’d heard of it happening to others, this was the first time Todd had been asked to work on the weekend. The job opening had sounded drab and boring, and the pay was mediocre, but it did offer two attractive features to someone who had been cramming nonstop in medical school for the last two years. The hours were 8:00 a.m. to 5:00 p.m., Monday through Friday, and there was no scheduled weekend work. But apparently, the operative word was scheduled, which left the possibility for unscheduled work, as Todd was now learning. Although the tone of Mary Rose’s voice was cordial, her body language made it perfectly clear—any resemblance to this being a mere request was purely coincidental.

Todd did try for a little clarification. So does this kind of thing happen very often? And will there be overtime pay?

Mary Rose’s body language remained unchanged. Not very often, but when employees get sick or need time off for personal matters, the rest of the staff has to cover their work. Everyone needs time off at some point, as will you someday. At Twin Palms, we try to accommodate our staff’s needs without jeopardizing the effectiveness of our program.

Todd could see why Mary Rose had been chosen as the heavyweight enforcer of the company line. She clearly knew her job and didn’t balk at performing it. As for Todd’s question about overtime pay, it went unanswered. He knew it wasn’t an oversight, and he knew what that meant. Todd nodded and quickly exited the building before any more unscheduled surprises materialized.

There was plenty to think about on the fifteen-minute drive back to his apartment. Even after three months, it still felt odd working at an assisted-living facility. From future doctor to current wet nurse—it had all happened so fast. He could never have imagined he would be working with old people. Todd didn’t think badly of old people. He just didn’t think of them at all. College had been all about the promise of youth and the fulfillment of that promise. There was no reason to look back at the earlier, less technologically blessed times or those unfortunate enough to live during those unenlightened days. Per academia, those poor souls had now outlived their usefulness and were a drag on social progress with their snail-like pace and purposeless lives. They were a burden to their families and their communities.

Academia had persistently exhorted their students to focus their time and energy on the future. The past was just that, passed and mostly forgotten. Greatness and success awaited the millennial generation. They, and only they, had been divinely anointed with the responsibility of advancing their fellow man and freeing him from the shackles of ignorance. There was no reason to pity the older generation. They had lived their lives, made their choices, and now must quietly shuffle aside while a new, abler generation takes the helm.

As to why Todd decided to drop out of medical school, it had boiled down to this. As his high-school football coach would have put it, he didn’t want it enough. After four years of higher education and then two additional years of intense advanced studies, Todd had developed what could best be described as burnout. He’d hit the scholastic wall. Several years of hard work remained in his quest to be a doctor, but he simply ran out of gas. He accepted the fact and looked for something less demanding but still in the medical field. It would be a temporary move, a chance to recharge his batteries and either select a new career or return to finish his medical degree. The job opening at the local retirement center seemed to offer an opportunity to stay in a medically-related field and cover his living expenses while he figured things out.

And what about his goal of being a doctor? Was it his goal, or was it his ex-fiancée Angelica’s? He remembered a sudden uptick in interest from Angelica when he announced that he was considering entering medical school. At first, she was the typical, supportive lover, but before long, her interest metastasized into something far more serious—an infatuation with the thought of being the wife of a doctor. When, at the last minute, his interest started to waver, she practically demanded that he complete his enrollment. As for the strain med school had put on Todd, well, that was just the price he was expected to pay for their happiness. When he told Angelica a few years later, that he had decided to drop out of med school, she went ballistic, rambling on about his supposed lack of concern for her welfare. It was an eye-opening experience for Todd, who, nonetheless, believed that Angelica would eventually recover from her disappointment and become the partner he’d always hoped she would be. He still thought they were meant to be together.

But it had taken two full weeks of remorseful phone messages before Angelica would agree to see him again. And when they did finally go out, he noticed that her attitude toward him had changed. She was overbearing and self-centered, as if he owed her for deciding not to be a doctor. He had been seriously wrong about Angelica. Their relationship morphed into something far different from courtship. Angelica informed him that since he no longer made her wishes a priority, she could not see herself married to him. In so many words, he was no longer her ticket to success and must now be replaced. Their engagement had been unilaterally ended.

From that point on, Todd’s best use to her would be to assist in Angelica’s search for his replacement. After all, she claimed, he owed her that much. It wouldn’t be proper for a lady to venture out to the clubs alone. And she had no interest in being a third wheel with her married friends. So Angelica would permit Todd to accompany her as a sort of chaperone. Their already-thin relationship had now been completely gutted by his status-seeking ex. Todd could only admire the brass cojones this girl possessed and be thankful that someday she would move on to greener pastures and he would be free from her demands.

Although he’d removed a significant amount of stress from his life by replacing medical school with the passive healthcare job, Todd’s personal life was now a mess. He’d been demoted from husband material down to quasi-chaperone by his slighted lover. He signaled his acceptance of Angelica’s decree with his silence. Most men would have angrily broken off with such a feckless girlfriend. But Todd wasn’t quite ready to face the world alone.

It wasn’t entirely true that Todd didn’t have any plans for Saturday morning. Angelica had plans enough for the both of them. Friday nights had been designated by Angelica as the night she would canvass the local dance spot in search of her replacement prince. First, she would expect Todd to take her to an expensive local restaurant. Afterward, they would hook up with college friends Jack and Roger at an area club called The Attic, where they would proceed to party-hearty into the wee hours of the night, making Saturday mornings his recovery time.

Todd thought about how tired he was becoming of Angelica’s mandated end-of-the-week marathon celebrations. It was draining him physically and financially. In college, Todd, Jack, and Roger had been self-christened the Three Hombres. Jack and Roger were unattached, so when they’d meet up with Todd and Angelica on a Friday night, they would go out trolling the crowd for female prospects most of the evening. Free to come and go as they pleased, both would sometimes disappear for long portions of the night, returning only to replenish their drinks. They offered little or no companionship for the third Hombre, who was left to serve at Angelica’s beck and call the entire evening.

Jack and Roger could look forward to Friday nights for some drinking, dancing, and courting. For Angelica, the night was all about business—the business of securing her social and financial future. And for Todd, Friday nights were mostly joyless servitude, fulfilling his final obligation to the queen bee, after which he would be free to fly away and die a lonely death.

Tonight Angelica was certain to drag him on more forays through the crowd, throwing back questions, not waiting for answers. Does he look successful? What kind of a job do you think he has? Did you see a ring on his finger?

Todd hated being a part of Angelica’s search team. Why doesn’t she just hang out in the club parking lot? As prospects arrived, she would see who arrived alone and what kind of car he drove and, if the car had designer plates, get some less-than-subtle clues about the owner. Todd had always felt designer plates were the forerunner of Facebook—a way to publicly display (i.e., brag about) your accomplishments. After all, what would be the fun of being successful if you couldn’t flash it around town?

At least Todd had found a way to steal brief moments of calm by discreetly tuning out Angelica during her rambling monologues. There were times when she would become so engrossed in her own discourse, that he was almost sure that he could leave without being noticed. But not willing to risk incurring her wrath, he would remain, nod on cue, and daydream about a variety of diverse topics and facts. Fact one, his circle of friends had dwindled to a mere triangle, making his two remaining friends more important than ever. Soon, they might be his only social connections. Fact two, the club scene was no longer working for him. If it weren’t still the best way to stay in contact with Jack and Roger, he would have preferred staying home and watching a movie. Was it boredom or the creeping influence of maturity?

Tonight he might daydream about how unprepared for real life the Three Hombres had been when they graduated. Once the secure bubble of college life had been removed and they had to fend for themselves in the harsh, real world, the task was daunting. Bosses were far less supportive and understanding than the college instructors. Employees weren’t nurtured; they were exploited. Sink or swim, lads. Todd was fortunate to have his two closest friends around for support.

He couldn’t say the same for Angelica. She had always been in it for herself. When push came to shove, Angelica was one of the hardest shovers. The end would always justify the means for someone like Angelica. But now that he had learned to accept her as nothing more than a young insecure girl desperate to find her meal ticket, he was able to forgive her—somewhat.

Despite his professional U-turn and the new stresses of real life, Todd was starting to relax and enjoy himself a little for the first time since graduation. He could laugh again and even have a little fun at Angelica’s expense. One of her pet peeves was personal nicknames. She absolutely abhorred nicknames. Her rigid self-image would not allow for such frivolous informality. Pretending to be a little tipsy on a few previous visits to The Attic, he had accidentally called her Angie and then watched as she lit up like a Roman candle.

"Todd, I told you never to call me that! she would exclaim emphatically, looking embarrassed. Only address me by my full name, Angelica."

It was pure fun to push her buttons and his sole source of enjoyment on Friday nights. Who knows? Angie might just make an appearance tonight.

As he pulled into the apartment complex parking lot, everything got real again for Todd. Checking his watch, he realized he’d have to hustle to have enough time to shower, change, and get to Angelica’s on time. And the reward for his efforts would be a long tedious night, followed by a morning of bedpans and Bingo. Oh, please shoot me now!

CHAPTER 2

Dinner with the Queen

As he showered, Todd ran through his mental checklist of things to avoid while in Angelica’s company. First and foremost, do not interrupt her when she’s talking, which is most of the time. Second, always look like you are paying attention when she speaks. Even if you aren’t, make direct eye contact at all times. Or you will be the subject of her next tirade if she suspects that your attention has drifted during one of her long rambling diatribes—or her frequent complaints about waiters, store employees, dry cleaners, and essentially everyone working in the customer service field. It wasn’t easy being Angelica, and she shared all her frustrations with Todd—all of them.

Todd continued with his checklist. Tardiness was unforgivable. No one keeps the queen waiting. Whenever he picked her up, he was expected to arrive early and then wait in the car until it was almost the precise time to knock on her apartment door. He’d even taken the added precaution of synchronizing his watch to her living room clock to ensure timeliness. And forget about showing up in a car that wasn’t spotless inside and out. That would be disrespectful and grounds for immediate rejection. And of course, there was the nickname insanity. Neither of the other two Hombres could understand why Todd put up with Angelica. It may have had something to do with habit, or maybe it was some sad form of self-punishment.

Todd shaved, dressed, and checked his watch again—seven o’clock sharp. With a twenty-minute drive to Angelica’s, it was time to go. Grabbing his keys from the hook behind the front door and locking the door behind him, Todd walked out to the back of the apartment building, climbed into his car, and headed toward Angelica’s. There was still time for some self-analysis during the drive.

The habit theory made sense. Having been subjected to a similar routine for over two years, even a laboratory rat would fall into a pattern. It was just human nature—or rat nature. Repetition was a strong force, like during political campaigns when candidates who were trying to sway the electorate to their viewpoint would repeat the same statements ad nauseam until their opinions were finally accepted as actual truths.

In Todd’s case, having been around someone with a strong personality for a number of years, it was likely that he’d become subconsciously conditioned. Having been told so many times that he was wrong and Angelica was right, Todd had started believing it was true. He was becoming little more than an emasculated laboratory animal. And now Todd was headed back into the maze for another round of conditioning. It was no fun being a rat.

Fast-forward to Angelica’s apartment door. The time was precisely seven thirty. Todd knocked carefully and heard some rustling on the other side of the door. After an appropriate delay, the door opened to Angelica’s smiling face.

Todd, don’t you look handsome tonight?

And you look divine as always, Angelica.

Even the greetings had become routine. Todd thought to himself, Just get through tonight and figure out what to do later. Being the spoiler in a relationship can be a tricky matter, especially when there was royalty involved.

Todd, I have my heart set on going to Cannetti’s tonight. Did you remember to make a reservation?

It may have been his imagination playing with him, but Todd swore Angelica’s penetrating gaze had made the light in her apartment hallway flicker. And now his answer might cause the bulb to explode.

I did remember we were going to Cannetti’s tonight, yes. But it was so busy at work today, I forgot to make the reservation. I’m so sorry. Todd braced for the blowback.

How busy could you be at a retirement center? The old people move like snails. It takes them ten minutes to cross the room. You would have had plenty of time to call Cannetti’s if you had made me a priority. Aren’t I important enough to you to be a priority? I’m really disappointed in you, Todd. We’re still going to Cannetti’s, but I’ll be extremely upset if I have to wait for a table. Extremely upset.

For emphasis, Angelica whipped her scarf around her neck angrily, just missing Todd’s face.

Again, I’m sorry, Angelica. I’ll talk to the hostess as soon as we get there. I’m sure there’s something they can do to free up a table quickly, even on a Friday night.

His assurances weren’t going to placate Angelica. She had perfected the art of maximizing the return on her anger. Todd was in a hole, and she intended to keep him there the entire evening, wringing out every possible ounce of payback. It was the equivalent of having a marker with the Mafia. He was going to pay until it hurt—and then pay some more.

Todd escorted Angelica to his car, careful to open her door and make sure she was comfortably seated before driving away. It was a long quiet drive to Cannetti’s. Angelica even turned off the car radio to intensify the silence. Todd tried to make idle chat, but she was having nothing of it. Free from the need to talk, he started thinking about what he could say to the hostess to secure a table without a wait. Then an idea occurred to him that might solve his dilemma.

They arrived at Cannetti’s to find a front lobby filled with waiting diners. Not one seat was open on the wooden benches that lined each side of the entryway. Todd led Angelica up to the hostess stand and addressed the young lady quietly so the people behind them could not overhear.

"Good evening. You’re sure busy tonight. But then it is Friday night. We have a problem, and I wonder if there is anything you can do to help. I was supposed to make a reservation for tonight, but we had a medical emergency at our facility. An elderly gentleman had a severe episode of ventricular arrhythmias. It took several hours, but we were able to stabilize his condition and save his life. But now without a reservation, it doesn’t look like we’re going to be able to eat at our favorite restaurant tonight. My friend will be very disappointed."

Todd watched the body language of the hostess to gauge the impact of his fabrication. He knew they’d have a better chance of getting seated faster if he could persuade the young hostess that he was a life-saving physician. A bedpan emergency at the retirement center probably wouldn’t pack quite enough clout. The hostess looked skeptical, so Todd added a forlorn bedside expression he’d seen a doctor demonstrate during one of his med school lectures.

Just then, a couple walked past them, leaving the restaurant, and Dr. Todd could see a table was being bussed in the back of the restaurant. It was time to pull out all the stops. I’ll understand if there’s nothing you can do. And I’m sorry if I came across a little dramatic. It’s just been a long day, and I’m very tired.

The hostess noticed the table being cleared, and as a sign of her appreciation for the heroic efforts of the exhausted physician, she announced loudly enough that the other waiting patrons could hear, Doctor, I’m sorry to have kept you waiting. Your table is now ready. Can you both please follow me?

A low grumble rose from the hallway behind them, but the hostess had apparently convinced enough of those waiting to avert a full-blown mutiny. Angelica was impressed at Todd’s quick thinking but wasn’t about to release him from his hole with so much leverage still available. After they were seated and the hostess had departed, she leaned over the table and almost complimented him.

Not bad, Todd. It’s a good thing she believed that tall tale. I was going to make you drive me into the city to Kontiki Ports as punishment. That meal would have cost you twice as much. What did all that medical talk mean anyway?

I told her the man had ventricular arrhythmias. It sounds bad, but it’s just an abnormally rapid heartbeat, like the one I was experiencing when I saw the long line waiting for a table. Nice to get something back from all that hard work in med school. It was a mistake mentioning medical school.

"You could have had a lifetime of benefits if you’d finished! We could have had a lifetime of benefits. I still can’t believe you quit. You really disappointed me, Todd."

Luckily, the waiter showed up with menus and asked for their drink orders.

Angelica took control as usual. I’ll have a glass of your best champagne. He will have the Chianti. And bring us some breadsticks and butter. Angelica’s sentences rarely ended with please.

The waiter flinched slightly, then straightened up and answered obediently, Yes, ma’am. I’ll get those right away.

It was an unintended slight. How could he know how unacceptable it was to address the queen as ma’am? She would make sure that he learned the error of his ways.

‘Ma’am’ is for old women. As you can clearly see, I am a young lady, in the prime of my life. You will address me as miss or madam, but you may not address me as ‘ma’am.’ Is that understood?

Angelica’s hue had taken on a tinge of red. The waiter noticed.

Visibly shaken, he stammered, Y-yes, ma’am. I mean, yes, madam!

Todd was mesmerized. It was as if all the blood had been drained from the waiter’s face and somehow transferred to Angelica’s. The waiter lowered his ashen-white countenance to avoid making direct eye contact with his excited guest, whose features were now glowing a brilliant red, and made a hasty retreat for the safety of the kitchen, handing their drink order to the bartender as he hurried past.

Can you believe the nerve of that man? Angelica was on the verge of exploding.

Todd knew it would take some time for her to decompress. The waiter was wise to flee. The poor soul still had an hour or more of interaction to endure. But he was getting off light. Todd had an entire evening ahead of him. He went about the drill of trying to defuse his unstable partner without triggering another explosion.

So what are you thinking of ordering? Are you going to try the ribeye steak again?

Small talk was only tolerable to Angelica in those rare moments when she was in a good mood. He expected the complaint that accompanied her response. But his innocent question had the unintended consequence of making Angelica even more irritated.

No. Don’t you remember? The last time I ordered the ribeye, I asked for medium rare, and it came out bloody red. I had to send it back twice before they cooked it correctly. I don’t think they know how to cook a steak properly here. I’m going to order the lobster tail this time. I want to see if they can at least cook seafood correctly. I have my doubts. Oh, I wish we lived in the city. There are so many good restaurants to choose from. Marengo is too small. We only have a handful of restaurants, and none of them are very good. The surrounding towns are even worse. I had thought in a few more years, you’d finish medical school, and we’d get out of this cow town and move to a big exciting city. Instead, I’m stuck with Cannetti’s, where they can’t even cook a steak.

Boy, had that strategy backfired. At least the complaining