Read The Good Life for Free Online

schedule? I need your opinion on a few things.”
    “Yes,” said Jesse. “How about lunch on Thursday? My pick this time, though, which means real food.”
    Ann smiled at her friend. “My parents arrive on Friday, so that sounds like perfect timing,” she said, turning to walk back to the ballroom. When she reached her table, she sat down and picked up her champagne glass. Lisa leaned forward and grinned at her.
     
    When Eileen called the following Monday morning, she reported to Ann that she had packed their belongings into two suitcases and three duffel bags that a neighborhood boy agreed to load into their station wagon. She had cleaned the house and washed the curtains and bedspreads. And she and Sam had packed up the canned and dry goods in the cupboard to be taken to the soup kitchen at the Congregational church in town. They could start their journey on Wednesday afternoon, after the real estate agent did her final walk-through to make sure everything was in order. Apparently, Charlene had several potential tenants lined up. Eileen and Sam would take their time, stopping along the way to enjoy scenic vistas and spending two nights in off-highway hotels. Charlene had even printed out a few suggestions from the Internet, Eileen told her daughter. That would make Friday their arrival date—just two-and-a-half weeks, Ann quickly calculated, from her mother’s original phone call. In seventeen days, Ann had done everything necessary to move her seventy-two-year-old parents into her backyard. She praised her mother and told her to drive carefully. And then she made herself a latte and walked out to the guesthouse for the final inspection.
     
    The one task remaining was telling Nate and Lauren. They had noticed the painters’ truck in the driveway, but that was nothing new; Ann routinely redecorated rooms in the main house. She had no idea what her children would say, but she was certain it would not be positive. Ann looked at her watch, shut her notebook, and grabbed her purse from the back of the kitchen chair. In ten minutes, she would be at the gym, where she would dazzle her friend, Sally Butterfield, with the final details of the project. She’d invite her back to the house afterward for a latte and a tour. Once Sally saw the guesthouse, she would know just how ready Ann was to welcome her parents into her life.
     
    Sally couldn’t believe it was done, even though Ann had been in contact with her almost daily about the progress. They had chatted about fabrics and wallpaper, but Ann, wanting complete credit, hadn’t shown Sally any of the samples.
    “They won’t be any trouble,” said Ann, walking with Sally down the path from the kitchen to the guesthouse. “The caregiver is moving in tomorrow. I think we’re all set.” Ann pushed open the door and stepped into the entranceway. “Keep in mind,” she said, gliding into the living area, “that this is a home for two old farmhouse dwellers. It’s simple, it’s country, and yet it’s everything they need.”
    “Oh, look at the cows in the kitchen,” said Sally, covering her cheeks with her French-manicured hands. “Cute, Ann. Wherever did you find paper like that?”
    “In one of the hundreds of books I pored through,” said Ann. “ Country Elements, I think.”
    “And the furniture,” cooed Sally, “perfect.”
    “I wanted something simple,” said Ann, “something they would find comfortable instead of intimidating. The cherry in here is beautiful, of course, but it’s polished and sophisticated. I wanted furniture they could set their coffee mug down on.”
    “And you’ve certainly done that.”
    “Of course, it’s out of here the day my parents move out,” said Ann. “Can you imagine housing guests with this decor?” Sally chuckled.
    Ann showed her the bedrooms and bathrooms, which Sally agreed were more than adequate. And she also agreed with Ann that the quilted bedspreads and simple window treatments were as good a match