A Simple Thing
“The cottage itself was lovely, with beamed ceilings and white beadboard walls and French doors at one end of the living room that looked out onto a fading garden. The furniture was clean and comfortable, and the place was filled with homey details—bright braided rugs on the floors, handmade quilts on the beds, even a blue earthenware pitcher filled with late dahlias from the garden on the round dining table in the main room. The kitchen, at one end of the big L-shaped living area, held the biggest stove Susannah had ever seen—black cast iron, with brass handles on the many doors and drawers. Susannah could feel its warmth emanate from across the room. But Katie had just pointed out that no matter how impressive the stove might be, the kitchen lacked a refrigerator—no refrigerator?—and with each passing moment Susannah was growing more nervous about what she had gotten herself into.
Susannah took a deep breath. “You always tell me your life is totally boring and we never do anything,”
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