The Accidental Florist

sound.
    Since the phone was still intact at Thelma’s end, Jane used her fax machine in telephone mode and called Ted. “Your mother just called me and was slurring her words, and then there was a crashing noise.“
    “Oh God. Jane,“ Ted exclaimed. “Call 911, and I’ll be at her house before they get there.“
    She did as he’d asked.

Chapter Fifteen

    Jane’s heart was beating at a bird rate. Had her nasty remark caused the stroke or heart attack? The answer was no. Thelma had been slurring her words even before Jane was rude to her. Still, she felt a little pity for Thelma. Jane always hoped she herself would go over like a tree when the time came. Not lingering for years of misery.
    Two hours later, Ted called Jane. “My mother’s had a serious stroke. She’ll be in the hospital for a week, and then go into a nursing home.“
    “Should I visit her?“
    “No. After what she’s done to you and Dixie, I don’t want you to go there. But I only have one week to find a good nursing home. I hate to ask you, but I know some of them are like prisons and stink of death. We need to find a good one.“
    “I’d be happy to help you. Tomorrow morning I have to drop something in the mail to my agent, but after that I’m free. May I bring my friend Shelley along? She’d be one more person to judge a good one.“
    “That’s fine.“
    Todd had been at the kitchen table during this conversation, and asked, “Who was that?“
    “Your uncle Ted. Grandmother Jeffry has had a serious stroke and he wants me and Mrs. Nowack to go with him to find a nice nursing home when she’s released from the hospital.“
    “I’m not really surprised, Mom. She was always mad at somebody. She was getting worse and worse about everything.“
    Jane was glad Todd was so down-to-earth about this. “Want me to call Mike and Katie again?“
    “If you want to, please do.“
    Ted picked up Jane and Shelley at nine-thirty. He had a list of five nursing homes. The first one was horrible. There was a big room filled with people in wheelchairs, grouped so they could watch television in the large room. The floors hadn’t been cleaned. The room stank of urine overlaid with the scent of a disgusting air freshener.
    Shelley asked to be shown some of the rooms. Each had two beds with a curtain between them. The sheets were rough and didn’t smell clean.
    This place was universally voted unacceptable.
    The next was even worse. It looked like a jail facility. Blank white walls. Side tables bolted to the beds. No common room at all. Each room had a bathroom without handicapped bars in the shower.
    The third place was marginally acceptable. Clean, but plain. There was an empty room they were invited to see. White walls, clean white floors. It didn’t smell bad. The sheets were soft and clean and neatly made. But there was no sense of home to it. They hadn’t seen a single nurse or attendant in the hallway.
    The fourth one was stunningly elegant. It looked like a fine hotel. Pictures on the walls. A television in every room. A few even had two rooms, a sitting room, a bedroom, and a sparkling clean bath with all that a handicapped person would need. There was a nice restaurant for those who were ambulatory. There were white tablecloths and napkins and fresh flowers on each table, which seated four in comfort. Room to get close to the table in a wheelchair. There wasn’t a carpet, but the tile floor was lovely.
    Ted, Jane, and Shelley met with the manager. A woman wearing a good light gray suit, a white silk shirt, and restrained jewelry. Ted introduced Jane and her friend Shelley.
    The manager said that they did have one room available now. The cost was rather high, but Ted didn’t care and it was the closest nursing home to his own house.
    She asked about the patient’s condition and was told it was a serious stroke. Ted added, with perfect honesty, that she was a difficult person. Not friendly at all.
    “We are equipped to deal with women like that,“ the manager said with a smile. “She’ll have her meals delivered to her room and a young woman to help feed her soft, nourishing food, and clean her up if she spills things on herself. Will she have visitors?“
    “Only me. She’s been cruel to my sister-in-law, Jane, and very nasty to my wife. My mother will probably be visited by some of the ladies from her church.“
    “Have you been to other nursing homes?“ the manager asked.
    “Three of them. All unacceptable. We had a