The last day used to bring tears. In her maturity Vesta sculpted a life of more pleasure than duty; this last spa day held no tears. “If you’re not getting happier as you get older, you’re messing up,” she reminded herself, pleased with the day ahead.
A warm stone massage, work on specific aches and pains through reflexology, lunch, swim, sun. A silent evening spent reading in her room and lulled to sleep by the sounds of trees rubbing branches in a light breeze.
The next day she woke to an invigorating final massage.
She tipped generously, cranked up her Model A and drove back to the rooming house, refreshed relaxed and happy. She wasn’t sure if she could return after the three spinsters bought a city flat; she had relished every moment fully.