The Girls Of Mischief Bay. Susan Mallery

her anti-aging serum—the one that didn’t seem to be doing its job as well as it had a couple of years ago—there wasn’t any warning. Sure, everyone knew that old age was inevitable. It was that or death and she was willing to admit she was pretty happy to be alive.

      But what about the rest of it? AARP had been chasing her for the past six or eight months. In addition to their chronic invitations to join, they should send a heartfelt letter that told the truth. Something along the lines of “enjoy it now—in ten years, you’re going to look in the mirror and see your grandmother staring back at you.”

      Perhaps not the most effective marketing campaign, but at least it would be honest.

      She patted the eye cream into place, then used her fingertips to pull at her skin. What about a face-lift?

      She studied the results, liking how pulling her skin up and back gave her a nice taut look. She didn’t want to be scary—one of those women who almost seemed plastic. But maybe a little nip and tuck wouldn’t hurt.

      She dropped her arms to her sides and watched her face return to its normal position. Who was she kidding? She wasn’t ever going to have a face-lift. Surgery on her face for vanity? No way. She wasn’t some megarich celebrity. She was a normal woman freaking out about the unkindness of time and gravity.

      She leaned closer to the mirror. Although maybe she could get some kind of injection. A filler or BOTOX. Didn’t everyone do BOTOX these days?

      She left the bathroom and walked into the bedroom. Her morning chores awaited. John had left for the office nearly an hour before, but there was still plenty to do. Make the bed, throw in some laundry, clean up the kitchen dishes. She had a once-monthly cleaning service come in. Those hardworking women always made her feel guilty, but she still let them scrub her floors.

      After preparing the marinade for the chicken pieces they would be barbecuing that night, Pam collected a light jacket for herself and a violet knit shirt for Lulu. She let the dog out for a quick potty break, then picked her up and tucked her under her arm. They had an appointment with the vet.

      While Lulu was a sweet, loving, well-behaved little girl, she came with several expected Chinese crested issues. She had skin allergies and soft teeth, luxating patellas and tummy problems. They were lucky in that her eyes were fine. And her moving kneecap didn’t seem to be a problem yet. John said it was because the dog never walked anywhere.

      “You’re cute,” Pam told her pet as she carried her to her small SUV. “Of course people want to carry you.”

      Lulu was six years old and had a veterinary file so thick, it was broken up into two folders at the vet’s office. Pam had a feeling that a lot of other families wouldn’t have been able to afford her chronic medical costs, but she and John were blessed. For all his complaints that Lulu cost as much as sending any one of their kids to college, the truth was, he adored her.

      Now Pam climbed into the driver’s seat of her SUV. Lulu scrambled into her doggie car seat. Pam put her in her harness and made sure it was attached to the restraining leash, then confirmed the air bag was off.

      “Ready to see Dr. Ingersoll?” she asked.

      Lulu wagged her tail in agreement.

      The drive was only about ten minutes. Come summer, it would take three times that long. Tourists loved Mischief Bay. Despite the fact that it was often warm and sunny all winter long, most visitors didn’t bother their little community until Memorial Day weekend. Which made it nice for locals.

      Pam drove along T Street and then turned right into the parking lot of Bayside Veterinary. Lulu whined until she was released from her harness, then jumped into Pam’s arms for the short carry inside.

      “Hi, everyone,” Pam said as they walked into the foyer.

      The two receptionists smiled at her. “Good to see you, Pam. How’s our favorite girl?”

      “Doing well on the new cream.”

      Pam set Lulu on the ground. The slightly pink dog with the dark patches raced behind the counter and greeted the two women.

      There was much skittering of nails on linoleum and yips of excitement as she was given her soft cookie. When Lulu finished munching, she returned to Pam and waited to be picked up.

      Heidi, one of the techs in the office, appeared with Lulu’s file. “He’s just finishing up with another patient. Let’s get her weighed and in a room.”

      Pam carried Lulu to the scale in the hallway. Lulu sat obligingly until she was told she could move.

      “Exactly ten pounds,” Heidi said, making a note. “Same as always. I wish I could maintain my weight as well.”

      “Me, too,” Pam admitted.

      “We’re in room two.”

      Lulu jumped off the scale and led the way through the open doorway. Pam picked her up and put her on the examination table while Heidi went through the usual visit stats. Seconds later she left Pam alone and a few minutes after that, Dr. Fraser Ingersoll walked in.

      “How’s my best girl?” he asked with a smile.

      Pam knew he was asking the question of Lulu, but every now and then she pretended it was addressed to her.

      Dr. Ingersoll, a tall, slim, dark-haired man in his early forties, radiated sex appeal. Pam couldn’t explain it, nor did she want to. It was one of those things best left undefined.

      She was sure half his female pet parents had a mad crush on him, and she was comfortable adding herself to the ranks of the swooning. Vivid blue eyes stared out from behind adorable glasses. He always had an easy smile ready, along with a quick touch of reassurance. Sometimes, it seemed to her, that touch lingered.

      While she loved John and would never do anything to screw up her marriage, every now and then she allowed herself a little daydream. One involved a request from Dr. Ingersoll to meet for coffee. She would reluctantly agree, he would suggest a place outside of Mischief Bay and she would pretend not to know why. Over lattes and muffins, he would confess his attraction to her and while she would be genuinely tempted, in the end, she would let him down as gently as she could. After all, she was a married woman. She might not have been a virgin on her wedding day, but John was the only man she’d ever been with. She wanted to fantasize about Dr. Ingersoll, not actually sleep with him.

      Still, those little moments helped when her day was tedious or she was annoyed by always having to take care of everyone.

      But now she was less sure of her crush. Did Dr. Ingersoll see her as a sexy, slightly older, vital woman? Or was she simply Lulu’s old and wrinkled pet mom?

      “How’s the new skin cream working?” the vet asked. He stroked Lulu as he spoke.

      “She’s scratching less.”

      “Her skin looks clear.”

      Pam watched him pet her dog and noticed that while the backs of his hands were smooth and taut, she’d developed a few age spots on hers. She held in a sigh. She didn’t like this, she admitted to herself. Not the questioning or the concerns. Not the self-absorption. She’d always considered her life to be one that was blessed. She was lucky. Lucky people didn’t get old and wrinkly, did they? Which brought her back to what the AARP really should be doing for their future members—warning them about the coming apocalypse of old age.

      * * *

      Shannon finished the quarterly reports and hit the send button. She would meet with the CEO later to discuss the actual results, but she wasn’t worried. The numbers looked good.

      She’d recently revamped the timetables and discounts in accounts payable. Cash flow was better, which meant the company’s expansion could be funded internally. When interest rates were low, taking out a loan made sense, but she had a feeling they were going to start climbing. Better to keep the money at home.

      While a lot of finance people saw the products their companies produced as interchangeable