Pay-As-You-Wish

(Or Read For Free)

 

Milly is fast approaching age thirty, join her on a ridiculously rollicking, and rambunctious journey to find true love and her new life.

After a half-dozen years of caring for the family matriarch, Milly is ready to find a job, a place to live, and love. But first, she must wade through the perilous waters of the 21st century: exploitive job offers, unaffordable rents, and modern dating. Follow her through set-ups, blind dates, dating apps, speed dating, matchmaking, and well-intentioned family. Milly faces it all with a down-to-earth, nonjudgmental kindness that carries her through.

Thirty Dates at Thirty is a 76,527-word long rom-com, with no on-page sex or bad language. There is one incident of an attempted but unsuccessful assault, a death of a pet, and an overdose. The book is appropriate for young teens to golden agers. Copyright 2024 Dianne C. Miller

Pay-As-You-Wish

Recommended Market Value

It takes a few moments to roll over to the payment page.

Recommended Price

(Or Read For Free)

$

$2.99 to $4.99

Click cover for PDF.

First Chapter:

Milly opened the passenger side door of the old hatchback. Her grandmother scooched across the parking lot pavement on her walker, moving into the opening created by the extended door. Milly's grandmother turned around and sat on the car's front passenger seat, fanny first. Milly came around the open door, moved the walker out of the way, and gently picked up her grandmother's legs and turned her granny to face the front windshield placing her legs in front of her. Milly firmly but quietly closed the door, then opened the hatchback, put the walker in, and closed it. 

Once settled in the driver's side seat, Milly buckled herself and her grandmother in and said, "Let's roll." 

Milly drove back into the city, away from the clean, stale, suburban medical park. 

"You Okay?" asked Milly, looking sideways at her grandmother. 

Millicent turned to her namesake and smiled, "Fine, dear, just a little tired." 

Milly concentrated on the traffic and tried to hurry to Laurel Woods. 

"Are you too tired to keep our appointment?" asked Milly. "You know we don't have to. We don't have to do this at all." 

Granny smiled, "It's time; we need to, we saved and invested for this day, and it is time." 

Milly turned her head to the side window, trying not to sulk. 

"And it's time for you," said Granny. "You have been saddled with me for too long. You need to go live your life." 

"I have lived; in fact, you have been a godsend. I don't know what I would have done without you; between economic upheavals and international health crises, you were a savior, not a burden." 

Granny reached up and rubbed Milly's arm, "You've been my savior, too." 

Pulling into the tidy grounds of the combined assisted living and nursing home Millicent had chosen, Milly drove under the entrance canopy. 

Millicent looked out the shabby hatchback's passenger window at the benches on either side of the wide concrete walkway leading to the front door, occupied by elderly residents eagerly awaiting any arrivals, whether for them or not. All eyes turned to the new visitors. 

Milly performed the walker and car door performance in reverse, and Millicent ambled the gauntlet of staring faces as she shuffled through the sliding glass doors of Laurel Woods. Milly locked the car and hurried to her side. 

At the front desk, Milly and Millicent were greeted by a cheerful, full-figured woman with a bright smile. "Welcome," she said. "Are you the eleven o'clock appointment? I wasn't sure you would make it." 

The greeter didn't wait for an answer, "Doctor appointments can run so long if they don't get you in right away. You mentioned you had one before coming here, and I remembered." The receptionist stood and started walking towards a glassed-in conference room, and Milly and Millicent followed. "I waited almost three hours once for a doctor who wasn't even in the office. They said he had an emergency, but I wasn't sure that was true. He looked to me a little like he had overslept when I finally saw him. Here you go."  

Milly and Millicent hadn't said a word, but they both said, "Thank you," and took seats at the big table behind the wall of glass. 

The receptionist returned to her station, tapped her desk phone, picked up the receiver, and Milly could hear her say, "Your appointment is here." 

Milly wasn't sure why she had expected a middle-aged woman, maybe someone like a school principal or the head of an HR department, but she was surprised by the tall, confident man in his mid-thirties with a full head of wavy hair and a square jaw who walked out of the door behind the receptionist desk and across the lobby into the conference room carrying a folder. 

Milly willed her mouth shut after it had dropped open, and her granny sent her a twinkly-eyed look. Milly looked down. 

"I'm Tom," introduced the young man. 

"Millicent," offered Granny. "And this is Milly." 

Milly looked up and gave a weak smile. 

"Well, it is great to have you both here at Laurel Woods for a final interview," Tom pulled out a chair and sat down, flipping open his folder. "I did have time to review your finances, and you have an insurance policy in good order that covers nursing and or assisted living care for three years for you or your husband." 

"My husband passed," informed Granny. 

"My condolences. I'm sorry for your loss," Tom rolled it off his tongue like he was commenting on the weather. "I don't know why that wasn't clearly marked." Tom continued to peruse the folder. 

"And I see your medical condition is," Tom paused. "Progressing." 

"Yes," replied Granny. "I can no longer go up the stairs."  

"Well, that is exactly what we are here for," said Tom. 

"Beatrice," called Tom. "Can you take these lovely ladies on a tour?" 

"It's your lucky day," said the receptionist, hustling in as Tom stood up and walked back to his office. "It is a wine tasting this afternoon." Just as before, Beatrice didn't take a break in her narration as she walked patiently down the hall next to Granny on her walker, making eye contact between the women as she chatted. 

"This is the best place to be in town, and I won't mention names, but I have worked at ones far worse than this. How they stay open, I don't know. I guess it is the price." Milly and Granny exchanged a look. "I know we can't say those things anymore, but we are among friends." Granny and Milly looked at each other again. "We do have a few people placed here by the state, but everyone else can afford it, so that makes it nice." Again, Granny and Milly made big eyes at each other. "Let's go this way," Beatrice ushered Milly and Millicent away to another corridor. 

Milly slowed her pace and looked behind at the hall not taken. She saw a woman who appeared immobile being moved from a room and down the passageway in a large rolling chair that supported her full body; she was wrapped in blankets and padded with pillows. 

Milly froze, and a busy nurse's assistant whisked by and whispered, "That's where the truly sick ones are," and gave Milly a half smile. 

Milly turned and scurried to catch up with Granny. 

Beatrice had not lost a beat, "So here is one of the rooms; this one is being redone for the next person. Once the family of the passed person removes their belongings, we repaint and decorate for the new resident. You can provide anything you like, drapes, framed art, whatever, and we will hang it for you. The carpet is standard; it is meant to soften any falls, but it isn't plush to prevent tripping. You don't get to pick that: no rugs, no candles, no space heaters, or floor fans for obvious reasons." Milly and Granny were no longer exchanging looks but rather were trying to avoid looking at each other. 

"Here's the little kitchen," Beatrice pushed open two sliding doors to reveal a little counter with a sink and a mini-frig under it. "Of course, no hot plates, but microwaves are allowable," Beatrice continued. "Most everyone has a tea kettle and coffee maker, and some people like a toaster. Since all your meals are served in the dining room, this really is just for snacks." 

Beatrice then did a detailed tour of the bath, pointing out all the handrails, the no-step shower, and the wheelchair-accessible sink, "Your room is cleaned once a week, and of course, if there is an accident, the staff takes care of that too. We also do any repairs." 

"We'll pass the dining room on the way to the wine tasting in the assembly room," Beatrice continued to narrate as she walked the Millicent duo back down the hall, pointing out the nursing station and chapel.  

Through an open kitchen door, after they passed the dining room, Milly noticed tired staff standing at a stainless-steel counter filling bowls with what looked like tomato soup, then placing the bowls on small plates and adding a roll; a fleet of red boats on a metal sea. 

Throwing open the door to a large room decorated like a sitting room designed to insult no one's taste, Beatrice announced, "And here we are. Stop by on your way out, and Tom will make final plans." Beatrice dashed off with a smile. 

The two Millies looked across the bland living room. Against the wall, in front of a glassed-in bookshelf that looked as if it hadn't ever been opened for someone to take out a book, a pretty woman uncorked bottles of white wine. The residents crowded the table as she explained that the vineyard was young and only had white grapes as the owner was trying to keep the farm organic and sustainable, and therefore, was opting for slow growth. 

"Tow what," asked an elderly gentleman with his hand to his ear. 

"Slow growth," shouted the woman next to him. 

"Of what?" he muttered in return. It appeared as if everyone had come in from the front walkway and were joined by numerous others. The room was close to full, mostly women, with a few men scattered about.   

The wine was poured into small clear plastic cups, no more than an inch or so per glass, and a fit man with dark hair and a handsome face, dressed in a navy-blue polo shirt and khakis, who looked ten years older than Milly, collected up the boxes and debris. 

Milly looked around the room and turned to her granny.  

Millicent returned her gaze and, without moving her face or mouth, quietly said, "Kay tee tee see," through barely parted lips. Milly drifted off to get minute glasses of wine. 

Millicent drifted on her walker in the other direction towards one of the large beige sofas and was offered a seat by a sweet-faced, grey-haired woman who patted the cushion beside her. 

"Beatrice is what we used to call bossy and now is referred to as leadership. She is well-intended if a bit insensitive," confided the woman as Millicent sat down. "And the reality is she runs the place. The directors come and go, but she remains." 

"Oh?" asked Granny. "Why do they leave?" 

"It's a tough job, and there are not enough qualified candidates to go around. The facilities poach them off each other, offering better benefits or slightly better pay. We had one that lasted six years, but that was the longest." 

"How long have you been here?" asked Granny. 

"Almost twelve years," answered her companion. 

"Oh my," said Granny. 

"Not to worry," said the elderly lady. "I came in with my husband when I was in fairly good shape, but once he died, I couldn't face starting all over again, so I stayed." 

"That makes sense. I hope I didn't appear rude." 

"No, not at all; if someone had said I would still be here twelve years ago, I would have been appalled." 

Milly came over, bearing three little cups for Granny, her new acquaintance, and herself. 

At the same time, a man of similar age to Milly, with a teddy bear physique and a friendly face, ambled up and handed a tiny glass to a tiny woman in a club chair angled towards Millicent and her new friend on the sofa. 

The woman shoved the glass back at him, "This is swill." 

The young man smiled, drank both glasses, placed the empties on a side table, kissed the woman on the cheek, and said, "Bye, Auntie; I'll be back soon."  

Milly and Millicent smiled politely as a tall woman briskly pushed into the sitting area. 

"Welcome to the nightmare," she said to Millicent. "This is where you land when no one loves you, trapped between that overbearing battleax and the next Nurse Ratchet. No one will even give us a decent-sized glass of wine, just these little dribbles. It's not like a good slosh would hurt any of us. We're all on the way out anyways." 

Milly turned and quickly left the room. Once in the hall, she heaved a silent sob and wiped the tears welling up in her eyes.  

Through the door came the custodian pushing his cart of boxes and used cups. From behind the piled-up cart, he said, "I hate that we are using plastic cups, but the kitchen insisted they didn't have the dishwasher space to do a load of real glasses." 

Looking up, he said, "I'm sorry; I didn't mean to disturb you." 

"Oh, not at all," Milly pretended she was not distraught.  

The man reached into his pocket, pulled out an old-fashioned handkerchief, and handed it to her. "Here, take this, and I'll take that," he offered, taking the now-empty plastic cup from Milly. 

"Hope you feel better," he quietly said as he propelled his load down the hall. 

Milly unfolded the fabric square; it smelled like clean cotton as she wiped her eyes, and she felt momentarily comforted. 

Folding the cloth neatly back, she noticed initials embroidered discretely in cream-colored thread in the corner of the hanky.  

She shoved the handkerchief in her pants pocket as Millicent came through the door on her walker, followed by the pushy woman, "The food is terrible, too. The chef worked for the Navy, and it tastes like it came from a submarine, sealed in a can, and submerged in stinky waters full of whale pee." 

"It was a pleasure to meet you," said Granny as she turned towards Milly and away from the angry resident. 

"I doubt it," said the resident as she turned in the other direction and headed down the hall to her room. 

At the reception desk, Beatrice efficiently tapped for Tom, who reappeared from his office. 

"We are booked now," he told Granny as they all stood in the reception area. "But we have a waiting list. The way it works is that each time a room becomes available, we call the future residents in order, and the first one who wants the room gets it. That way, if you aren't ready, we will pass over you, but you won't lose your spot on the list. The next time, you will be first again. We have a short list right now, only two; all your paperwork is in order, so we can add you today." 

"Thank you," said Granny. "Please add me as number three." 

"I look forward to you living here at Laurel Woods," said Tom. Turning to Milly, he gave a particularly winning smile and said, "I hope to see more of you." 

Milly blushed. 

Granny smiled sideways at Milly as they walked back out through the entrance sliding glass doors, and Milly whispered with a motionless face, "K T T C." 

Milly and Granny had a long list of initialisms. After Milly's dad left when she was six, Milly's mom moved them back home with her widowed mother, Millicent. Milly's mom went to work, and the two Millicents became fast friends. Granny essentially raised Milly while Milly's mom helped raise other people's children in the city as an elementary school secretary. 

K T T C stood for Keep To The Car. When Granny picked Milly up from school, and Milly was about to cry because someone had picked on her, or she had a bad grade, or was simply overtired, Granny would whisper, K T T C. "No need for them to see you weep," Granny advised. Once the car turned the corner, the gushers released. 

When Mrs. Mulowsky's husband, the neighbor two blocks down, left Mrs. Mulowsky without money for the mortgage, she divorced and married the old man two streets over and moved herself and her three children in, within three months, H B H D, He's Breathing He'll Do. 

When the sweet young mother at the end of the street was diagnosed with cancer, V B V S, Very Bad, Very Sad. 

Outside the front door of Laurel Woods, the benches were now empty but for one elderly lady coughing and smoking a cigarette. She nodded at the two women and took another long drag, blowing a cloud around her. Milly looked to the back of the parking lot and waved goodbye to the good-looking man tossing the rubbish in a dumpster. He smiled and waved back, and Milly helped Granny get in the vehicle. 

Milly drove her little rusty car named Bob, for Bucket Of Bolts, out of the entranceway and onto the street. Once they turned the corner, Milly pulled the vehicle over onto the road's shoulder and stopped. She burst into tears just as she had when she was a schoolgirl.

Click cover for ePub.