Mature Girlies — Old

"We go tomorrow," Margaret commanded. "Full regalia. I want the Chanel suits. Dot, wear the red lipstick that makes men over eighty faint."

Margaret straightened her spine. "A gold-plated walker doesn't excuse a lifetime of cowardice." The Strategy old mature girlies

She paused, looking at her friends. They all shared a small, knowing smile—the kind of smile only women who have survived everything together can manage. "We go tomorrow," Margaret commanded

"Don't 'Helen' us," Dot snapped, leaning over his gold walker. "We’re just here to tell you one thing, Julian." Dot, wear the red lipstick that makes men over eighty faint

When he looked up and saw the four of them standing there—Margaret at the helm, arms crossed—he didn't smile. He looked terrified. "Margaret? Dot? Bea? Helen?" his voice cracked.

They didn't scramble. Women of their vintage don't scramble; they orchestrate.