Mary Lu W8D3

Week 15 – Friday

Welcome to SeniorVu’s daily ‘flash fiction’, with the continuing saga of Mary Lu at the Vu. Mary Lu is a 78-year old fictitious resident of a fictitious senior living community called Hickory Hills View (a.k.a. The Vu).  Every night, while her husband Bobby (he’s fictitious too) sleeps next to her, she sends her sister Carolyn (yup, fictitious) an entertaining email updating her on the day. These are her stories. We hope they become as addictive as your morning cup of coffee. 

Disclaimer: Even though these stories may sound familiar to your community, the story, all names, characters, and incidents portrayed in this series are fictitious. No identification with actual persons (living or deceased), places, buildings, and products is intended or should be inferred.


You’re not going to believe this.

That’s what Bobby said as he rustled me from a sound sleep at 6 a.m. to show me his laptop. It was open to a photo of a woman in a skimpy bikini.

“You woke me up to show me a cheesecake photo?” I said, slapping his arm.

He sat down. The photo was part of a set of publicity stills released in advance of the “Sports Illustrated” swimsuit issue. It showed Betty Morgan’s supermodel granddaughter Brittany lounging on a beach at sunset.

“I’m supposed to be shocked to see a model in a swimsuit?” I said, getting more annoyed.

“That’s not a swimsuit,” he said, handing me my glasses. “Look closer.”

I did.

Brittany Morgan’s “swimsuit” was actually painted on. That’s not unusual. The magazine does that all the time. But what those body painters usually don’t do is miss a spot. And this artist missed a spot. A very, very critical spot.

“Oh my,” I said.

“Yup.” Bobby had a big old grin on his face.

The photo went online late yesterday afternoon and was taken down as soon as someone noticed the mistake. It was too late. People had already copied and reposted the viral image hundreds of thousands of times. Brittany Morgan’s exposure was getting maximum exposure.

We determined that the photo mistake, not my childish behavior, was probably the real reason for Betty Morgan’s tears yesterday. After she didn’t make it to morning yoga, I stopped by her apartment to offer tea cakes and a compassionate ear.

Betty said she appreciated me coming over. None of the other people in the building had. Betty and I had tea, played cards and – ugghhhhh — she showed me the brochures for all the things she planned to do on her trip to the Seychelles.

“There’s only one problem,” she said. “We got tickets to the Masters and it’s the same week as our trip. Now I have to find someone who wants to go halfway across the country to see a dumb golf tournament.”

Like I said, you’re not going to believe this.

“I think I know someone,” I said.

Betty’s streak of good luck had run out – just in time for mine to begin.

Mercy! Mercy! Mercy!

(I’ll be smart enough to keep it to myself.)

More Monday,

LuP.S. To catch up on all of my previous Mary Lu at The Vu posts, click here to go back to Day 1.