Excerpt from The Love Elixir of Augusta Stern by Lynda Cohen Loigman, plus links to reviews, author biography & more

At the pharmacy department's farewell party, Augusta accepted a piece of cake and a glass of cheap sparkling wine. Several of the pharmacists made heartfelt toasts, along with a few of the nurses. When they asked about her future plans, she told them she was moving to Florida in September. Her niece had found her a two-bedroom condo in a small retirement community called Rallentando Springs.

"That sounds wonderful," they told her. "All that sunshine—you're going to love it!" Augusta pretended to agree, but inside, she was not convinced.

At the end of the party, Mr. Willard asked for her forwarding address. Several people swore to keep in touch, but it was only the director who made good on his promise.

* * *

At the beginning of September, when Augusta got to Florida, a small bundle of mail was waiting for her, including a statement from her new bank and a greeting card postmarked from New York. The inside of the card was inscribed with a message penned neatly in navy ink. "Dear Ms. Stern," the inscription read. "I wish you the best of luck in Florida. Please also accept my warmest wishes for a very happy eightieth birthday."

Augusta tossed the card in the trash. Her birthday wasn't for a month yet. Did he really have to rub it in?

* * *

The first night she spent in her new condo, Augusta felt an unfamiliar flutter of nerves. The move had exhausted her physically, but her mind was restless, and when sleep would not come, she searched through the cardboard boxes in her living room until she found her father's battered copy of the U.S. Pharmacopeia. There were several more recent editions, of course, but she liked the way the old book felt—thick and heavy in her hands. It was the book she had used in pharmacy college, and though she had committed much of it to memory, it soothed her to see the catalogue of drugs, their effects, descriptions, and dosages in print. She whispered their names like the names of old friends, and they kept her loneliness at bay.

After a quick bowl of cereal the next morning, she dug out the first swimsuit she could find and walked to the Rallentando pool. A glossy photograph of this azure oasis had featured prominently in the Rallentando Springs brochure—the one Augusta's niece, Jackie, had foisted upon her several months ago.

In New York, Augusta swam three times a week at an indoor swimming pool run by the city's Department of Parks and Recreation. She did not much like the chemical smell, the chilly locker room, or the thin, scratchy towels provided by the sour-faced attendant. Still, she enjoyed the activity itself—the propelling of her arms and legs through the water, the peace that came to her when her body was busy and her mind was free to wander at will. It was good for her; it kept her strong. She reasoned that the towels and the stench of chlorine were a small price to pay for such obvious benefits.

Augusta's niece knew that her aunt always dreamed of having a swimming pool of her own. Of course the Rallentando pool wouldn't be hers—it was for all of the residents to enjoy. But it was only a brief walk from Augusta's apartment, and she could use it whenever she liked. She could swim or read or order her lunch from the cute little snack bar set off to the side. These were a few of the features her niece had used to argue for Rallentando's appeal. But when Augusta arrived at the pool that morning, she discovered what was perhaps the best feature of all: piles of neatly folded towels—thick, sweet-smelling, and marvelously soft.

Although the pool looked slightly smaller than in the photo, the water was clear, the patio well-kept, and the perimeter peppered with comfortable lounge chairs, wrought-iron café tables, and cheerfully striped yellow-and-white umbrellas.

There were only six people in the pool area when Augusta arrived—two men and a quartet of women playing canasta in the shade. When Augusta walked by, the men didn't bother to look up from the books they were reading. The women were too engrossed in their game to notice the new resident among them. Augusta did not mind in the least. After leaving her towel and her tote bag on one of the chairs, she tucked her hair up into her swim cap, pulled on her goggles, and slipped quietly into the water.

Excerpted from The Love Elixir of Augusta Stern by Lynda Cohen Loigman. Copyright © 2024 by Lynda Cohen Loigman. Excerpted by permission of St. Martin's Press. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.