The Life She Wants Read Free

don’t even trust her enough to give her my new cell number—I bet she’d sell it to the press. I take it you haven’t heard from her?” He shook his head and this came as no surprise. Rosemary had been in touch when she thought Richard was rich and powerful; after his fall from grace, she behaved as if she didn’t know him. “We haven’t made amends. She wasn’t exactly supportive.”
    â€œYour sisters should be helping you now,” he said.
    They had never done anything to help her. “We’ve never been that kind of family,” she said. Indeed, they weren’t family at all.
    â€œI can relate,” Lyle said.
    Emma knew Lyle had always had a hard time with his father, but at least his mother adored him. She gave his upper arm a squeeze. “Well, you’ve saved my life here. I’d be lost without this little place you found.”
    â€œIt found me. Penny is elderly, but don’t use that word around her. She’s what we’d call spry. Almost eighty and still walking three miles a day, gardening and playing the occasional game of tennis. But the problem with living forever, the money thins out eventually.”
    â€œAnd she knows everything?” Emma asked.
    He nodded. “As you wished. She said, ‘We’ve all hooked up with the wrong person here and there, poor girl.’ This little bungalow is a sort of guesthouse, a casita, though her house, the main house, isn’t that much bigger. Prepare yourself, it’s all quite small. She doesn’t need a keeper. No care involved. But a little bit of rent will probably help you both.” He shook his head. “I don’t know that you’ve ever lived in anything this simple, Em. It’s old, musty, small and tacky.”
    â€œYou have no idea how much I’m looking forward to it.”
    * * *
    The guesthouse was actually a remodeled freestanding garage with a wall and large picture window where the doors once were. The window looked out onto a pleasant tree-lined street. It was a tiny, two-room bungalow with a small bathroom and galley kitchen. A patio separated the guesthouse from Penelope Pennington’s two-bedroom house. “And of course you’re welcome to use the patio at any time,” Penny assured her. “And if you ever have any serious cooking to do, feel free to borrow my kitchen.”
    It was an attractive little arrangement. Penny had the driveway removed years before and now there was a carport and storage unit. In front of both little houses and on either side of the driveway and carport were two small patches of grass, shrubs, trees and flowers. From the patio one could reach Emma’s little abode on the right or Penny’s on the left. A tall, white fence with a gate bordered the property.
    It took less than half an hour to unload Emma’s small car. There wasn’t much furniture in the bungalow—a bed and bureau, a small table and two chairs, a couple of lamps, a small sofa and two armchairs. She had her own bedding and kitchenware. She found the guesthouse quaint and cozy. Her boxes and suitcases had yet to be unpacked, but she didn’t care. Lyle went off to a nearby market to get dinner, bringing Penny and Emma a huge Greek salad, some hummus, flatbread and a bottle of wine. They had their dinner at Penny’s, sitting around her little dining table, and Emma loved her at once.
    Then at last it was just Emma and Lyle, sitting in her cozy living room with a final glass of wine. She sat in a musty old overstuffed chair upholstered with a floral pattern, her feet up on an ottoman that didn’t quite match. Lyle relaxed on the sofa, his feet up on the coffee table.
    â€œThis place really needs a fluff and buff,” he said.
    â€œI love it,” she said. “I think this will be my reading chair.”
    â€œHow can you read with the flowers in that gaudy print screaming at you?”
    She laughed at