The Heiress

by Rachel Hawkins

Shocking how soon the “too late now” part of your life arrives. When you’re young, there’s nothing but possibility, just an endless line of tomorrows, and then you wake up one day and realize that no, you cannot move to Paris on a whim because so many of those old buildings don’t have elevators and stairs are hell on your knees now. And besides,

you never learned to speak French, and now your brain, once so fresh and spongy and ready to soak up knowledge, feels about as pliable as a peach pit. I could tell you to learn from an old lady, to not let the “too late now” moments surprise you, too, but it won’t do any good. No one listens to old ladies. I certainly didn’t.