The text was simple.
“Meet me at Table 12, 9:30 pm.”
The dining room was locked. Table 12 was inaccessible. But as the big clock in the lobby of Meadow Lakes Retirement Community struck the half hour, four figures in nightgowns and robes appeared at the locked door.
Marge Aaron moved forward with a key and unlocked the door.
They hurried in and rushed to table 12, lifted the chairs from on top of the table, arranged them a little farther apart than usual and, standing around the table, emptied the pockets of their robes.
Four wine glasses appeared on the table.
From Marge Aaron’s pockets came two bottles of Chardonnay wine.
“It’s so good to be here!” Hadley Joy Morris Whitfield said. A retired socialite, Hadley was dressed in a blue silk robe with matching nightgown and matching slippers.
“It’s been so long!” Robinson Leary replied. The retired professor wore Creighton Blue Jay sweats.
“How did you get the keys, Marge?” Mary Rose McGill, a sweet Catholic girl asked. Mary Rose had on pink pajamas that said, “I love PJs.”
“Took them out of Alphonso’s pocket as soon as he went to sleep,” Marge smiled. As a retired homicide detective, Marge Aaron would have made an excellent pickpocket.
Meadow Lakes Retirement Community was in lockdown because of the Covid-19 virus. There were no exercise classes, no dining in the dining room (meals were delivered), no fun meetings and no wine-time on Thursdays. Everyone was safe and no one was happy.
“You know what I’m going to do starting tomorrow?” Mary Rose asked, looking around at her friends and grinning ear-to-ear.
They looked at her.
“Every time I meet someone in the hallway when I go get my mail, I’m going to say, ‘Have you lost weight?’”
“That’s good,” Robbie said. “When I opened my refrigerator this afternoon it said, ‘What the hell do you want now?’”