“This is a masterpiece,” Ming said, referring to the basket of goodies. “I like your style. Kill them with kindness and chocolate hazelnut scones.”

“I don’t know why I’m so nervous. It feels very different to be hosting future in-laws as opposed to normal clients. And really, it’s Penny’s weekend, not mine. I can’t thank you enough for offering your guest wing. I know you said no house gifts, but that’s not possible for me. This is for you,” Alexa said, handing over a bottle of wine and a pound of coffee to her friend, who lived on both. “Hydration is everything. Shall I bring this around to the guest quarters?” she said, pointing to the basket.

“Just leave it there. Win can do it later.” Win was Ming’s house manager, a tanned, fortyish surfer who made sure that the property was clean and landscaped, kept the fridge stocked with “Ming food” (wine, cottage cheese, chocolate, and sliced pineapple) and ensured everything was in proper working order. Win didn’t perform menial tasks like scrubbing, mowing, and hammering, but he hired people who did. He worked for several widowed women in Nottingham Forest and had quite a reputation for “going the extra mile.” Not with Ming, of course, but reportedly with some of the other single, and lonelier, women. “He’s coming by to check on everything to make sure we’re set. He’s opened the wine and put together a cheese platter, too. I don’t know what I’d do without him.”

Save sixty thousand dollars a year, Alexa thought. But she didn’t say anything. Ming was a retired financial planner; she knew what money was worth. If she wanted to spend that amount on an employee like Win so she never had to talk to a service person or go to the grocery store or retrieve her mail, that was her prerogative. She was very busy with her mahjong and the Merry Widows. “I can’t thank you and Win enough.”

When Alexa had arrived home from the engagement party with the news that the MOG and her daughter were arriving in town for a long weekend in July without lodging, the Merry Widows jumped into action. Ming immediately offered her guest wing, a convenient and tastefully decorated collection of rooms with its own private entrance off the back of the house. Abigail and Sarah could come and go, fix breakfast in the kitchenette, and find their way to the pool all without disturbing Ming. As a bonus, she promised to invite them for a glass of wine upon arrival.