The Hot Flash Club Chills Out by Nancy Thayer Page B

the millions of rosy slipper shells scattered on the sand. Black-green seaweed dotted the beach in twisted bits and pieces like arcane calligraphy, or was tossed down in hunks like discarded rags, or combed through the sand in long curling strands like Pre-Raphaelite hair. These were, Marilyn decided, from the phylum chlorophyta with branched thalli. She saw no horseshoe crabs on this beach, but other shells were plentiful.
    Alice stood at the water’s edge, shivering. Except for the cry of the gulls and the slap of waves against the beach, it was quiet. No roar of traffic, no horns and sirens, none of the eternal rumble of city life. Shirley came crunching over the sand to stand next to her.
    “I’m bored and my feet are cold!” Alice grumbled.
    “Oh, Alice.” Shirley patted her friend’s back. “Don’t be such a spoilsport. This is exercise! It’s good for you!”
    “My shoes are filling up with sand,” Alice complained. “The wind’s whipping my hair into my face. If I’m going to exercise, I want to do it in the comfort of a gym or spa.” She glared at Shirley. “Why do you think people love The Haven so much?” Abruptly, she turned, stomped up the boardwalk, and collapsed on the steps of the concession stand. Digging in her purse for her cell phone, she announced, “I’m calling a cab. I’m too beat to walk all the way back.”
    “Alice—”
    “I’ve walked forty minutes already.”
    “We’ve strolled. We’ve
dawdled.
”
    Alice started to argue, then changed her mind. Looping her arm through Shirley’s, she coaxed, “Yes, and now I want to
stroll
and
dawdle
around the
shops.
Want to come?”
    Shirley found Alice irresistible when she was charming. Besides, the wind kept blowing her hair into her face. “Okay. Let’s tell the others.”

    When they met for a late lunch at the Tap Room, they were all in high spirits.
    “I’m ordering a cheeseburger with fries!” Polly cried happily. “I deserve it, after all the walking I did today.”
    “You’re a little sunburned,” Faye admonished her. “We’ve got to remember to bring sunblock.”
    “It’s probably windburn,” Alice said. “Look what I bought!” She held up her left arm to show off her new turquoise bracelet.
    All four women bent to study it.
    “Beautiful!” Faye said.
    “Look what
I
found!” Marilyn reached into her pocket and lifted out something white. Holding it in her hand like a butterfly that might fly away, she displayed a delicate shell. “It’s called Angel’s Wings. They’re very brittle. It’s really rare to find one intact like this.”
    “Okay,” Shirley said, “Polly has a new shawl, Alice has a new bracelet, Marilyn has a new shell, and I found this on the bulletin board outside a gift shop called the Hub—a list of yoga classes taught on the island. I love trying out different yoga classes, and one person offers yoga on the beach. Doesn’t that sound heavenly?”
    Alice made a face. “Oh, yeah. Can’t wait.”
    Shirley rolled her eyes at Alice. “What did you find, Faye?”
    “I found the best thing of all,” Faye exclaimed. “I found so many places to paint! The beaches, the lighthouse, the gardens, the doors! I can’t
wait
to get back here with my easel and equipment!”

    Relaxed and happy after lunch, the group strolled back to Orange Street to pack up their things. As they arrived at the house, the clock at the Unitarian Church struck three. They all paused, looking up at the fine wooden tower. Then they went up the steps to the front door. Like many houses on the street, there was no garden between the building and the sidewalk. All the open space was behind the house, in a small walled garden.
    As Shirley dug in her purse for the key, they heard someone say in a loud, imperious voice, “Excuse me!”
    Standing on the porch of the house next door was an elegant woman in a marvelous cranberry-colored wool cape. She looked to be in her seventies, but even with the marks of age, her