The rent Babe quoted her was low enough that this property probably needed repairs. Beachfront rentals were often expensive. But Maileah’s budget was tight until she could secure work, so she had to at least look at it.
As she approached the neat, rosy-pink house, a familiar figure emerged from behind a riot of red bougainvillea.
Babe waved to her. “Come around the back. Your parkingarea is behind the cottage, accessible from the side street.” She led her down a winding stone path, chattering about the neighborhood. “Most people on the street are friendly. And you can walk to the beach or bike to town. I trust you’re not throwing wild parties or waking the neighbors.”
“Not anymore.” Maileah fixed her attention on managing her expectations. She recalled Babe mentioning that prior tenants had done some damage.
She’d seen enough beach shacks to know better than to hope for much.
They rounded a tall hedge of flowering hibiscus trees that separated Babe’s larger home. In front of her, she jingled the keys. “Here we are.”
Maileah stopped short. “Oh,” she said, taken aback.
In a small clearing stood a charming stucco guest house. Spring-green splashed walls were a canvas for rambling pink roses that cascaded over a rustic arched trellis. Sunlight dappled wildflowers that grew with abandon.
Babe stopped to inhale. “Roses, orange blossoms, and ocean breezes. Sweet, huh?”
Maileah nodded. Although the setting was appealing, the inside must be a wreck. She knew a sales job when she heard one.
Babe slid a key into the old lock. “Wait until you see inside.”
The interior was small, but sunlight streamed through large windows and spilled onto the original hardwood floors. Scars in the narrow planks added to the character. A small, adobe-style fireplace filled one corner, its hearth littered with shells and sea glass.
The cottage was surprisingly cozy, just as Babe had promised.
“Does the fireplace work?” she asked.
“Sure does,” Babe replied. “Perfect for chilly nights in the winter. It heats the entire place.”
Maileah ran a hand over the soft, floral slipcovers on aloveseat and chair. The room had a shabby-chic vibe that she liked. “Does the furniture stay?”
“Everything you see is yours to use. Or I can get rid of anything if you have furnishings. I’ve been renting this to short-term visitors, but some were more trouble than they were worth. I’m through with that.”
As they moved through the cottage, Maileah’s spirits lifted. The living room and bedroom were compact, but each opened onto a patio that expanded the living space. Outdoor tables, chairs, and loveseats sat in groupings under umbrellas. She imagined working on her laptop outside, enjoying the fresh air and sounds of birds and ocean waves.
The kitchen was merely an extension of the living room, though it was quaint. Retro appliances added to the charm of the storybook cottage.
In her mind’s eye, she could see pitchers brimming with colorful wildflowers. That was all the decorating this space needed.
“The stove is old but works fine,” Babe said. “They made appliances to last back then. I had it checked out, so it’s clean and calibrated. You can roast a small turkey in the oven.”
“I’d have to work up to that,” Maileah said. “I’m more of a takeout kind of person.” She looked over the top of the refrigerator.
Babe laughed. “The fridge is compact, but it’s plenty icy. So, what do you think of the place?”
The peaceful atmosphere of the cottage washed over Maileah as she considered it. Could she afford to take the chance?
Yet here, she could focus on herself and her needs. She could work uninterrupted and do whatever she wanted. Most of all, it would be hers. For now, at least.
She needed a respite, a place to think, to gain clarity—and a good night’s sleep.
A room of her own, as it were. A place to herself. A space to figure out what she wanted to do with her life—not whatothers thought she should. Some might laugh at her desire, but she suspected every woman needed that at some point.
How could she not afford it?
Confident that she could figure it out, she said, “I’ll take it.”
In the grand scheme of life, this was much more satisfying than her old luxury ride.
