Nora Goes Off Script by Annabel Monaghan EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Annabel Monaghan
- Language: English
- Genre: contemporary romance
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2.1 MB
- Price: Free
HOLLYWOOD’ S COMING TODAY
I’m not going to lose my house.
Those two thoughts surface in the same moment as the sun
starts to brighten my room. I’ve been paid for my screenplay, and the bonus
money for letting them film here will hit my bank account at noon. Goodbye unpaid real estate taxes. Good-bye credit card debt. And to think, Ben’s
saying good-bye to me has made it all possible. I don’t know how this day
could get any better. I hop out of bed, grab my heaviest morning sweater,
and head downstairs. I pour my coffee and go out to the porch to watch the
sunrise.
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Whoever buys this house from me, I always think, will tear it down. It’s
over a hundred years old; everything’s broken. There’s a certain point in
January when the wind blows right into the kitchen and we have to ducttape a fleece blanket over the doorframe. The floorboards droop; there are
only two bathrooms and they’re both upstairs. Each bedroom has a closet
designed to house six outfits, preferably for very small people. Ben had a
list of house complaints he used to like to run through daily, and I could
never shake the feeling that he was really complaining about me.
This house is a disaster, sure. But I fell in love with it when I first
looked down the long windy path of the driveway. The magnolia trees that
line either side touch in the middle, so that now, in April, you drive through
a tunnel of pink flowers. When you emerge onto the main road it feels like
you’ve been transported from one world to another, like a bride leaving the
church. It feels like a treat going out for milk, and it feels like a treat
coming home.
The house was built by a British doctor named George Faircloth who
lived in Manhattan and came upstate to Laurel Ridge in the summer, which
explains the complete lack of winterization. It was built to be enjoyed on a
seventy-eight-degree day and primarily from the outside. I imagine his
landscaping this property like a maestro, arranging the magnolias and the
forsythia beneath them to announce the beginning of spring. After a long
gray winter, these first pink and yellow blooms shout, “Something’s
happening!” By May they’ll have gone green with the rest of the yard, a
quiet before the peonies and hydrangea bloom.
I knew I’d do anything to live here when I saw the tea house in the back.
It’s a one-room structure the doctor had commissioned to honor the ritual of
formal tea. Where the main house is flimsy white clapboard with peeling
black shutters, the tea house is made of gray stone with a slate roof. It has a
small working fireplace and oak-paneled walls. It’s as if Dr. Faircloth
reached over the pond and plucked it out of the English countryside.
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