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there as much as what is.
    Tight shot of Buck’s weathered hands, then back to wide shot.
    We had one fellow years ago, Mr. Pennington. He was some high-powered banker or investment man who made lots of money, but his wife had died and his children didn’t want him around, so they put him here.
    Every morning he would get up and have his breakfast, read the paper, and get dressed in his suit and tie. He’d head toward the front gate and right on out to the street. The first time it happened, we sounded the alarm and everybody got agitated untilwe ran him down and brought him back. He wasn’t too happy about it, either. This was a man who was used to being the boss. So we tried to explain he couldn’t go walking off like that. He said he was sorry, that he was a little mixed up, and that he wouldn’t do it again.
    Still photo of Mr. Pennington.
    Well, you know what happened the next day. Here he was again going toward the gate. So Mrs. Howard and I put our heads together and pretty soon we figured out he wasn’t hurting anybody by taking a walk. It was actually doing him some good. So she would phone me of a morning and tell me when she saw Mr. Pennington was dressed and coming out of his room. I’d say good morning to him when he passed me and then I’d get in the car and follow him until he got tired, which was usually down at the Walgreens unless it was the summer. I’d pull up like I was his chauffeur and give him a ride back, ask how his day was. He’d reach in his pocket to give me a tip and tell me he forgot his wallet. And I’d say, “That’s okay,” and he’d go in and take a nap.
    The next morning, same time every day, he’d be dressed and ready to go. Except for there at the end, he would be late by a few minutes or forget to put his pants on and we’d have to go to plan B.
    Wide shot of residents in the dining hall as voice-over continues.
    People are creatures of habit, every last one of us. You can make your rules and try to get everybody to follow in lockstep and control every little thing they do, or you can treat people with some dignityand go with the flow. That’s what Mrs. Howard has always been good at. Taking people where they are and working with them to make this place a little like home.
    Tight shot of Buck, misty-eyed.
    I’m going to miss her. I thought maybe one day she would just move in here with her husband, but that’s probably going to be a few more years, I guess.

CHAPTER 6
    MIRIAM EXITED the dayroom but stopped abruptly when she saw Jillian Millstone peering through the mountain on the glass wall. The woman was stocky, with a matronly build and short hair that seemed a little too dark for her age. She kept each thinning strand under tight control and wore dark, slim-fitting pantsuits that made her look less attractive than she was, Miriam thought. She was unmarried, had no children, and seemed able to catalog every duty for the job except compassion. But the board of directors had made their decision and Miriam trusted their judgment. Even if they were making a mistake.
    “Ms. Millstone, I was hoping I’d see you. We have a prospective member of the community I’d like you to meet. I was going to get the contract and go over it with the family.”
    Millstone held up a hand. “I don’t want to interrupt. Are you certain she’ll be staying?”
    There was an edge to her voice. Miriam sidestepped it like dog waste on the sidewalk. “They seem impressed with the facilities and the people. There will be money concerns, of course.”
    The woman moved toward the door. “What is she doing?”
    “Treha? What she always does. She’s our one-woman welcome wagon.”
    No smile. No reaction. “That’s not her job.”
    “No, we certainly don’t pay her what she’s worth.”
    “That’s not what I mean.”
    “I’m sure you’ve been able to pick up by now that Treha is one of our greatest assets.”
    Millstone stared through the glass at the fuzzy images.
    “Well, if