Rules for Life Read Online Free PDF

the hole in the ozone layer. “So you’re making breakfast for people in your room?” I asked.
    â€œJust Sarah and Edgar. And Barbara Miller. And Edith Turner—I don’t think you’ve met her, dear.” She was still holding my hand, and she gave it a squeeze before she let go.
    â€œWhy don’t you all go to the dining room?” I asked.
    She pursed her lips. “They mean well, but … the coffee is always that decaffeinated kind. There’s never any sausage or bacon—too much cholesterol. And the eggs aren’t even real eggs.” She looked at me, defiant. “I’m seventy-nine years old. If I want to be killed by a sausage that’s no one’s business but mine.”
    My mouth went into contortions so I wouldn’t laugh and I had to cough a couple of times before I could trust myself to talk. “But you’re not supposed to be cooking in your room,” I finally said. “I get it. That’s the secret.”
    â€œThey have the idea we’re a bunch of feeble ninnies who’ll set ourselves on fire.” It’s difficult to look indignant when you’re barely over five feet tall, but she was giving it her best effort.
    I got a mental picture of Mrs. Mac trying to hot-wire her toaster oven. Not good. “Will you be home tonight?” I asked.
    She was already smiling. “Yes.”
    â€œI’ll be there about seven thirty.”
    â€œYou are a dear girl,” she said, standing on tiptoes to kiss my cheek. She smelled like lavender and those tiny red candy hearts they only sell around Valentine’s Day.
    I shook my finger at her. “Don’t touch that toaster oven.”
    She gave me a little wave and headed for the lounge with short, fast steps, singing “ Start Me Up,” just under her breath.

8
    â€œWhy am I doing this?” Rafe asked, reaching behind the seat for his backpack.
    â€œBecause you’re a nice guy,” I said as I got out on my side of the car. “Because you used to be a Boy Scout and you never got over that good deed thing. Because you don’t want an old lady burning down half a city block.” I grabbed his arm and pulled him over sideways so I could kiss his cheek. “And because you love me.”
    Rafe hiked the backpack onto one shoulder and put his free arm around me. “I’m not sure I can fix it,” he said.
    â€œI don’t care about that,” I said, leaning into his body and matching my steps to his as we walked. “I just don’t want Mrs. Mac trying to do it and then ending up setting this place on fire.”
    â€œYou like her.”
    â€œYeah, I do. She never talks about her ‘ailments’ or complains that all the kids today are on drugs. You should hear how some of the old people at the center talk.”
    We walked through the double doors into an area that reminded me of a hotel lobby. “We’re here to see Rose McKenzie,” I said to the woman behind the fake marble counter.
    â€œShe’s in 308,” the woman said, giving me one of those not-quite-real smiles you get from people who have jobs that require them to be pleasant all day. She pointed. “Just take the elevators over there.”
    The door to Mrs. Mac’s apartment was a glossy dark blue. Across the hall the door was peapod green, and farther down I could see one that was shiny yellow. Was that so nobody ended up in the wrong apartment?
    I rang the doorbell. There was a tiny wreath of red berries around the peephole. In a moment Mrs. Mac opened the door. “Hello, dear,” she said. Her smile was the warm, real kind that made you smile back. “Did you bring it?” she whispered.
    â€œEven better,” I said, grabbing Rafe by the sleeve and pulling him next to me. “Mrs. McKenzie, this is my boyfriend, Rafe.”
    â€œHello, Rafe,” she said, turning toward him.
    â€œHi,” he said, already