Private Acts Read Online Free PDF

a top investment firm. The Hills had been living in Cuenca for almost five years, lured by the low crime rate, comfortable year-round climate, and the low cost of living.
    They were two very active seniors, and the limitations brought about by the accident curtailed their activities. They had photos on the walls and in albums showcasing their pastimes, including horseback riding, sports fishing, and cycling.
    Samirah watched Geneva use her walker and move gingerly up the walkway. As they rounded the corner of the house, she went to the front door and flung it wide.
    “Hey, there, how was it today?” she asked in a cheery voice. She’d learned right away Geneva did not like her therapy sessions, and she could be grumpy for hours afterward if she and Thomas didn’t find a way to lift her spirits.
    “Horrible. Simply horrible,” the other woman grumbled. She set her walker at the bottom of the three steps she had to climb. “Thomas, stop hovering,” she snapped over her shoulder.
    Seeing the man’s exasperated expression, Samirah gave him a sympathetic smile and wink over his wife’s head.
    “Come on, Geneva , you know he’s only trying to help.” She retrieved the walker and set it inside the door.
    “I can do it myself,” Geneva said.
    She placed her hands on the black handrails Thomas installed after her surgery. Geneva had missed her footing on these steps and broken her hip when she fell. Samirah had heard Thomas say on several occasions if he’d had the railings installed in the first place, the accident wouldn’t have happened. Even though Geneva didn’t blame him, he was still filled with guilt.
    Thomas continued to hover behind his wife as she grasped tightly onto the black metal with both hands and hoisted herself up one stair. “There you go,” he coaxed.
    “ Thomas ,” Geneva warned.
    Samirah stood back and watched the older woman, on alert to stabilize her in case she couldn’t make it. She had already made progress in the short time Samirah had been living with them. When she first moved in, it had taken both her and Thomas to help Geneva up the stairs. She could do it on her own now, but it was a slow, harrowing process.
    Minutes later, Geneva stood on the threshold, breathing heavily from the effort. Tiny beads of perspiration had popped out on her upper lip. Her short, silver hair was damp around her forehead.
    “Just a few more steps,” the older woman said to herself. She rested her hands on the walker and started the journey to the great room.
    “Looking good,” Thomas added, to his wife’s exasperation.
    Finally, Geneva breathed a heavy sigh and settled onto the sofa with a pillow at her back. Two large ceiling fans circulated cooling air throughout the room. “Smells good in here.”
    “The soup will soon be finished.” Samirah took ice water to each of them. “What did the therapist say about your progress?”
    “She said I’m coming along well and maintains six to seven more weeks of therapy should suffice. I can hardly wait. The pain is unbearable, and I absolutely hate the therapy sessions.”
    Thomas mumbled something. “What was that?” Geneva asked sharply.
    “Nothing, my love.”
    The corners of Samirah’s lips lifted upward. “I’m glad to hear your recovery is going well.”
      “Yes, it’s unfortunate what happened. As we get older, we become clumsier, and the old bones are not what they used to be.” Geneva sighed heavily. “Oh, after you left this morning, we saw our neighbor, the artist. He’s back from his trip to Miami .”
    No kidding. “How well do you know him?”
    “Not well, my dear. He’s not the friendliest chap, but we’ve spoken a few times. He seldom has company, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen him have a woman over there, unless he scuttles them in at night. His mother’s the only woman I’ve seen him with, and that was about two years ago when she and his little brother came for a visit, wasn’t it, Thomas?”
    Thomas