Margaret Johnson was eighty years old and lived in an assisted living facility. She was in good shape for her age—except for her thick glasses—and she had a secret. She was madly in love with Sy Silverman, a seventy-five-year-old newbie who’d arrived only two months before. Sy was not quite as spry as Margaret; he needed a walker to get around, but he had the two essential characteristics she liked in a man: an infectious sense of humor and a ready smile.

Margaret wanted to feel young again—to go to the park and sit on a bench holding hands, or maybe drive down to the beach and do a little snuggling while listening to the pounding of the waves.

“How about we get out of here?” she said to Sy one morning at breakfast. “Let’s just jump in my car and head off on a mini adventure.”

Sy grinned. “That sounds wonderful, but you know that monster Fred will never let us out of his sight.”

Fred was the tough-looking nursing attendant who stood in the corner of the dining room, his tattooed arms folded across his chest.

Margaret leaned over and whispered, “Oh, let me handle Fred.”

Sy’s eyes brightened. “Work your magic, my dear. I’m up for some fun.”

Five minutes later, Margaret was whispering in Fred’s ear. His scowl turned first into a quizzical look, then into a smile. Shortly after, Sy and Margaret were heading toward the parking lot, escorted by Fred.

Margaret got her wish to feel young again. She drove Sy down to the beach, where he gently held her hand as they chatted and gazed out at the waves. They even bought ice cream.

When they returned at the agreed-upon hour, Fred was waiting to walk them back inside. After getting them settled in their chairs for dinner, Margaret quietly handed Fred her car keys. He slipped them into his pocket and walked away.

Sy shook his head in disbelief. “Are you loaning that guy your car?”

“His teenage daughter, Sherry, works here on weekends. She told me she needed a car to take her driving test. Her dad only has a truck with a stick shift. I suggested this morning that maybe we could work a trade.”

“Impressive,” Sy said. “I love an enterprising woman.”

“Be careful,” Margaret said, squeezing his arm. “There’s more where that came from.”

Sy chuckled. “Bring it on. Don’t let that walker fool you. I promise I’m sixteen in here.”

“Well, that makes me twenty-one,” Margaret said with a grin. “I think at least one of us should be legal.”