W: The Planner, The Chosen by Alexandra Swann, Joyce Swann Page B

taxes so that you can get some money out to live on. Obviously, I am not an agent anymore, but if you want me to refer you to somebody who can help you with that, let me know. This is the last thing I will say on this—residence in the Smart Seniors community is by invitation only.” She chuckled a little, “I hate to sound like a car salesman, but this is a great opportunity and I would like to see you get in on the ground floor—literally since I know with Dad’s knee problems you really need a ground floor apartment, and there are only a limited number of those to go around. So…if you decide that you do want to come into the community, call me as soon as you know, and I will get your unit reserved and bring you the paperwork you need to sign.  But if it’s not right for you, then I will help you however I can.”
    That ended their conversation about the Seniors Community, and for the next hour they ate their steaks and made small talk. Her parents were quiet, and when she got into her car to drive away she did so thinking that no matter what happened, they would never move to W. But what mattered was that she had gone to their home and given them the best information she had to make the best decision they could. What they did with that information was up to them.
    Three days passed; Kris made her first town hall presentation to fifty inquiring seniors. She was really glad that she had taken the opportunity to do a one-on-one with her parents because it made this presentation much easier.   There were so many questions that the meeting ran over two hours. 
    “Can a diabetic get a special menu?”
    “Yes, of course, the dining hall offers diabetic menus.” 
    “My eight year old grandchild lives with me; can I bring him to W?”
    “No, unfortunately, no children are allowed to spend the night at W because it is disruptive to other members of the community. You will have to make other arrangements for your grandchild.”
    “I have four championship English Sheep Dogs. They are just like my babies.  Can I bring them with me?”
    “Residents of W are allowed only one pet per couple. You will have to make other arrangements for the other animals.”
    It went on and on this way until Kris was ready to yell, “Do you want this or not?” but she stayed calm, and eventually everyone seemed satisfied. The assistant she had brought with her had a preliminary application for people who wanted to reserve a unit before leaving the town hall. After the complaining tone of most of the questions, Kris was a little surprised to see that most did—the idea of a stress-free life with no worries overcame most of the other objections.
    As she got back into her car to head back to her office, her mobile rang. The car answered the call for her using the standard hands-free device.
    “Krissy,” said a familiar voice on the other end of the line.
    “Hi, Mom.  What are you doing today?”
    “Not a lot.  Your dad and I have been talking, and we want you to get us in on the ground floor.”
    “Wow! I’m surprised!” Kris answered, “But I’m glad.  I am headed back to my office now, and I will reserve a unit for you today. You’re going to be so glad you did this, Mom.”

Chapter 7
     
    O n Saturday afternoon, Kris’ phone rang.
    “Hello,” she answered.
    “Hey, I heard that you turned Commie and packed Mom and Dad off to the gulag,” began the voice on the other end of the line.
    “Hi, Keith. How are you?”
    “I’m rosy.  Is it true?”
    “No. I didn’t ‘turn’ anything. I got a really good job with a new federal agency—after almost two years of looking. I’m a Level I Planner for the new Smart Seniors Division, and I’m helping implement the changes that the government is making to retirement. I went to see Mom and Dad because their names were on the list. I showed them how the program works, and they decided to enroll.”
    “Basically, you ‘made them an offer they couldn’t refuse,’”