Today's Reading

CHAPTER ONE

Claire Reynolds hadn't planned to kill a man that day, but stuff happens.

The older you get, the more you realize sometimes things happen that are out of your control, and you just have to make the best of it. Claire was ready to make the best of her life. The most of her life. At sixty-nine, she was changing it up. Saying no. And loving it. For more than sixty years, she had done what everyone else wanted. Her parents. Her husband. Her kids.

No more.

First, she packed away her laptop. Claire refused to spend her golden years staring at a computer screen. She had better things to do with her time.

Like building houses with Habitat for Humanity. Rescuing a shelter dog.

Learning to rollerblade.


Next, she sold the too-big, too-beige house in the fifty-five-plus golf course community her husband had insisted they buy. Then she took the vacation she'd been dreaming of for years. Alone. To her favorite place on earth: England. When the kids were growing up, vacations had meant Disneyland, "the happiest place on earth."

Claire would be happy if she never saw a pair of Mickey Mouse ears again.

After walking in the footsteps of her BritBox and literary heroes on that sceptered isle, Claire decided to take a page from Jane Austen's book. There's a lot to be said for living a quiet life surrounded by books, art, music, and flowers. With an occasional adventure thrown in.

Lockdown helped.

At the start of the pandemic, for the safety of their residents, the management of Cedar Glen Retirement Community in Santa Bonita, California, instituted a "No Outside Visitors" policy. Claire was content alone in her condo with her books and her dog, but her next-door neighbor Atsuko said it wasn't good for their mental health to be so isolated.

"Ahtz-ko Kimura," as she'd introduced herself, and Claire formed a pod with the neighbors flanking them: Barbara Wright and Daphne Cole. Botoxed Barbara with her long legs and gravity-defying breasts dubbed Atsuko, Barbara, Claire, and Daphne the Alphabet Girls. It took time for the women to bond, but watching out for each other during those difficult days helped them forge a deep friendship.


Atsuko met Claire at the clubhouse on Thursday for coffee—tea in Claire's case—on a crisp fall morning, five years after the modern-day plague upended the world. The clubhouse was a popular gathering place for Cedar Glen's seniors, with its seventy-inch flat-screen TV, Tuesday night bingo, and six-days-a-week breakfast buffet. Inside, Atsuko found her friend reheating a cup of tea in the microwave. Claire had returned from England a tea snob, drinking only black English tea and never Lipton.

Nibbling a croissant, Claire asked Atsuko, "Is your grand-daughter still in Uganda?"

"Yes, her field assignment ends next month. Then she'll come home for a visit." Atsuko gave Claire a wry smile. "My daughter is pressuring her to stay and get a job nearby, but Tomiko's determined to go where there's the greatest need." She stirred her coffee. "For which I applaud her. As one of the Doctors without Borders, my granddaughter is a smart woman perfectly capable of making her own choices. It's not for me to hold her back."

"Spoken like a wise grandmother."

"There has to be some benefit to getting old."

"There is. The benefit of not giving a damn." Daphne, balancing coffee and croissant precariously in one hand, joined them.

Jumping up, Claire relieved her fellow Alphabet Girl of her hot coffee, as Daphne eased herself into a chair. "Why didn't you ask for help, silly?"

Daphne scowled at the sling supporting her right arm. "I'm sick of asking for help, and I'm sick of this thing."

"Your shoulder surgery was only a week and a half ago," Atsuko said. "You need to take it easy. There's no shame in asking for help. That's what friends are for."

"Don't go all Dionne Warwick on me."

What our readers think...