The Life You've Imagined: A Novel

The Life You've Imagined: A Novel

Kristina Riggle

Language: English

Pages: 334

ISBN: 0061706299

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub

“A richly woven story laced with unforgettable characters….A beautiful book.”
—Therese Walsh, author of The Last Will of Moira Leahy

The Life You’ve Imagined is a terrific novel about love and loss, letting go and holding on. A book to share with family and friends—I loved it.”
—Melissa Senate, author of The Secret of Joy


From Kristina Riggle, author of the brilliant debut Real Life & Liars, comes The Life You’ve Imagined, an astonishing new novel about love, loss, life, and hope. It’s the story of four former high school friends who are forced to examine what happened to their high school dreams which are now at odds with their grown-up reality.














and skip the tofu, because I know Paul hates it. A key turns in the lock and my shoulders relax. I didn’t even know I was tense until just then. I move the wok off the heat to come give Paul a kiss. “Hey, babe,” he says, dropping his suitcase on the couch and throwing himself into the nearest chair. My kiss has missed his cheek, and for a second I’m puckered into the air like some kind of fish. Paul says, “Can you get me a beer? God, what a day.” I go fetch him the beer but don’t take the cap

just asking.” “You wouldn’t understand.” Try me! is the retort that comes to mind, but I bite my lip. She’s so vulnerable in that flimsy cotton gown speckled with polka dots and her hair a tangled mass. “Why don’t you think I’d understand?” She looks at me a long moment before answering, her eyes narrowed slightly as if trying to see something clearly. “You’ve never loved like I loved your father.” “You think I’m so cold-hearted?” “I don’t want to fight.” I reach out for her hand, but she

actually reaching for his face to flick off the toilet tissue. “You’ve got something stuck to your jaw,” I tell him, and proceed up the stairs. I knock on Maeve’s door and she says she’s awake. There’s a great deal of rustling before she opens the door. When I tell her what’s going on downstairs, her jaw falls open. “Yeah, I know,” I tell her. “What a world. Let’s get it over with before your daughter decides to file suit against the Haven Police Department.” “Billy Patterson!” says Maeve as

out and pick the phone back up. “I’m fine, yeah? Aren’t I always?” “That’s my girl. Look, take care, huh?” “Yeah.” I hang up and drop the phone on my bed. My door rattles against the hook-lock and I hurriedly shove the photo album into my closet. I open the door to see Sherry in all her wrinkly, smeared, hung-over glory. “What?” “What happened to you?” she asks, squinting at my face. “I hit my thumb with a hammer. If you’ll excuse me, I have to get to work.” “Are you okay?” Maeve asks me

matter, even been to the beach, though I can see it from my front door. “That’ll be $12.32,” I tell the woman who has come in for sunscreen. She snorts at the price tag, then at me. I argue in my head, I’ve got overhead, you know, and bills to pay. Today would be a great day for the beach, nice and warm, a breeze to keep you from sweating too hard. The water has warmed up at last, enough to make a swim merely bracing instead of heart-attack cold. My hands fly over the keys on auto pilot, the

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