Millionaires are Jamie Lee Curtis and her spouse Christopher Guest. However, for the past 30 years, the famous couple has made the decision to reside in the same stunning home.
In December 2022, Jamie Lee Curtis and Christopher Guest celebrated their 38th wedding anniversary. Throughout their marriage, they have resided in the same home. Annie and Ruby, their children, grew up in the beautiful house.
Jamie Lee Curtis is a Hollywood royalty, descended from actor Tony Curtis and actress Janet Leigh. She developed a prosperous acting career by following in their footsteps and starring in beloved films like “Halloween” and “Freaky Friday.”
Curtis has received recognition for her exceptional acting abilities throughout her career. She was previously nominated for a Golden Globe for the sitcom “Anything But Love.” She was raised in Los Angeles, first as an adult and subsequently with her parents.
Curtis is one of the few well-known writers who has won over critics and book lovers in addition to her acting profession. She became well-known for writing children’s books when she released “When I Was Little: A Four-Year-Old’s Memoir of Her Youth” in 1993.
Books that her kids inspired
Actor-Filmmaker Christopher Guest is credited by Curtis with inspiring her two children. The basis for her second novel, “Tell Me Again About The Night I Was Born,” which was released in 1996, came from the adoption of their oldest child, Annie.
She co-wrote the New York Times best-selling book “Today I Feel Silly and Other Moods That Make My Day” two years later. She wrote “Is There Really a Human Race?” in 2006, drawing inspiration from Ruby, her adoptive daughter.
HER MATERNITY WITH CHRISTIPH GUEST
Since 1984, Curtis and her spouse have been joined in marriage. She has expressed her gratitude to the man countless times, and she is thrilled to spend the rest of her life with him. On their 36th anniversary of marriage, she wrote:
“My hand is in his.” Both then and now. Our children, families, and friends were the connections in our emotional chain, guiding us through both success and failure.
Curtis previously talked candidly about the instant she realized she would marry Guest. The actress made it real when she saw his photo in a Rolling Stone publication in 1984, right before the premiere of “This Is Spinal Tap.”
The actress claimed that she gestured to a picture of Guest sporting a plaid shirt. She pointed at him and informed her companion that she would marry that man even though she had never seen him before.
Curtis decided to take a chance and called Guest’s agent the very following day. If Guest was interested, she asked him to phone her and gave him his number.
Sadly, he never phoned, and she continued living her life and dating other men. She drove to Hugo’s restaurant in West Hollywood after they broke up. She looked up there and noticed Guest three tables away.
She waved back to Guest when he had finished waving. He raised his hand and gave a shrug as he stood up to go. He phoned her the very next day, and they went on their first date a few days later.
After a few months, Guest took a plane to New York City to record “Saturday Night Live” for a whole year. They were totally enamored with one another at the time, and they haven’t looked back.
The 1920s Spanish Colonial Revival house that Curtis entered in 1992 would end up being her first residence. Regarding the interior design of the home, the actress said, “There’s not one piece that I didn’t go out and buy or that I can’t tell you a story about,” acknowledging that at the time she thought she could make any place beautiful.
For Guest, however, it was not. Curtis revealed that he would frequently display disdain in his facial expressions when house hunting. But he was different for this particular property.
He began examining the eucalyptus trees around the house and its terracotta roof tiles before concluding that they ought to buy it. He would subsequently say that the home’s park-like environment had pleased him.
Despite being built in 1929, the house had not been modified when the previous owners moved in. As a result, they enlisted Jan McFarland Cox’s assistance to revitalize the house, which is now light and spacious.
The house is filled with traces of Curtis’s two children. She combined aspects of a more modern zen design with those of an ancient traditional Mediterranean home.
Curtis and Guest’s belief that fusing old and new is an integral part of who they are is reflected in the home. The home serves as an inspiration for the children’s book author to produce works of art.
The couple worked with architect Michael B. Lehrer and his wife Mia on renovations and landscape design while they were renovating the home before moving in. Before remodeling the master bedroom and bathroom, they started on adding bedrooms for their kids.
After remodeling the basement level, Lehrer opened up the kitchen to create a family area—a location that Curtis refers to as “the emotional center of the house.” She asked Cox to design interiors that highlighted the Mediterranean roots of the home.
Curtis and Guest are positive that they have brought happiness into the house. “I think it’s like anything: it’s a work in progress,” a guest once said. This house will continue to exist.
It’s true that Curtis uses wall art, hanging fabric dividers, and kitchen towels to hang inspirational sayings to keep the home lively. Timeless hardwood furnishings that maintain the Mediterranean aesthetic perfectly complement their home’s light and airy ambiance.
Curtis and Guest created a devoted household, but they also shared a profound understanding of what it meant to be “home” with one another. When I pull up and see that you are home, I feel protected, the actress once wrote a song for her husband.
She feels that the song’s words, despite their simplicity, perfectly capture what it means to be in a long marriage. She values the security that comes from knowing her spouse is home and that she is not by herself.
Now that they are empty nesters, Curtis and Guest take solace in their time spent together. Their daughter Ruby changed from her prior identity as Thomas, and their oldest daughter Annie is now married.
At the age of 25, Ruby, the second of Curtis’s two children with Guest, made the decision to transition. With Ruby teaching her to reject the notion that gender is fixed, Curtis is ecstatic for her children.
Ruby married in 2022 in the same manner that Annie is already married. Curtis was pleased to announce that she presided over her daughter’s wedding.
My Late Mom Became Rich Overnight Ten Years Ago, but along with Her Inheritance, I Received a Letter Saying, ‘You’re a Thief’ — Story of the Day
As Laura mourned her mother, each keepsake told a story of resilience and love—but a mysterious letter, accusing her mom of theft, shattered the solace of her grief. What secrets lay hidden in her family’s fortune, and how far would Laura go to uncover the truth?
I sat cross-legged on the carpet of my mom’s room, surrounded by pieces of her life.
Her favorite sweater lay in my lap, and I held it close, inhaling the faint lavender scent that still clung to it.
The familiar smell brought a fresh wave of tears to my eyes.
Nearby, her infamous sweatpants, patched and re-patched a hundred times, lay folded.
They looked more like a work of art than an article of clothing. I let out a soft laugh through my tears, shaking my head.
Neil appeared in the doorway, his footsteps careful, as though he didn’t want to disturb my fragile state.
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“Laura, love,” he said softly, crouching beside me. His hand rested gently on my shoulder.
“You don’t have to do this alone. We’ll get through it together.”
I nodded, swiping at my damp cheeks with my sleeve.
“It’s just… it feels like every little thing brings her back. Even these sweatpants.” I gestured toward the well-worn fabric.
“She could’ve bought a hundred new pairs, but she refused to give these up.”
Neil picked them up, turning them over in his hands, the patches catching his attention.
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“Honestly, these belong in some kind of hall of fame for persistence. Your mom had money. Why would she keep these?”
A faint smile touched my lips.
“Because we weren’t always rich. My childhood was… tough. Mom worked nonstop—cleaner, caregiver, you name it. She made sacrifices just so I could have the basics. Then, out of nowhere, this huge inheritance changed everything.”
Neil’s eyebrows lifted. “She never told you where it came from?”
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I shook my head.
“No. I asked her so many times, but she’d just get quiet or brush it off. After the money came, we didn’t have to struggle anymore, but Mom stayed the same. She taught me to respect every penny. She knew what it felt like to have nothing.”
Neil wrapped his arm around me, pulling me into a comforting side hug.
“You’re going to make her proud, Laura. You’ve got her strength. You’ll honor her in everything you do.”
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I leaned into him, letting his warmth steady me. “I hope so, Neil. I really hope so.”
Neil was in the basement sorting through dusty boxes when the sharp chime of the doorbell rang out.
Wiping my hands on my jeans, I opened the door to find a mail carrier standing there with a single envelope in his hand.
It was addressed to my mom, in handwriting that was jagged and bold.
“She passed away,” I said softly, my voice catching.
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The mail carrier’s face softened. “Sorry for your loss,” he replied before walking away.
I closed the door, staring at the envelope in my hand. Something about it felt… strange. The paper was slightly crumpled, the ink dark and hurried.
My curiosity got the better of me, and I slid a finger under the flap, tearing it open.
My breath hitched as I read the words inside, written in sharp, black ink:
“You’re a thief. Return what you stole if you have any conscience left.”
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“What the hell?” I whispered, my heart pounding. The letter trembled in my hands as a chill ran through me. My mom—a thief? No, that wasn’t possible.
“Laura?” Neil’s voice called out as he ascended the basement stairs. He stepped into the room, dust on his shirt and a curious look on his face.
“What’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Without a word, I handed him the letter, my hands still shaking. He read it, his brows furrowing in confusion.
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“A thief?” Neil said slowly, looking up at me. “Your mom?”
“No,” I said firmly, shaking my head.
“She wasn’t a thief, Neil. She was kind, honest, and hardworking. This… this has to be some kind of mistake.”
Neil didn’t respond right away. He studied the letter again, his face thoughtful.
“Laura,” he began carefully, “you told me your mom never wanted to talk about where the money came from. What if—what if there’s some truth to this?”
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I glared at him, crossing my arms defensively. “Are you seriously suggesting my mom stole that inheritance?”
Neil held up his hands in surrender.
“I’m not accusing her, okay? But this letter—look, it mentions an address. Maybe we should go and figure out what this is all about.”
I hesitated, glancing back at the letter. As much as I hated the idea, Neil had a point. “Fine,” I said quietly. “But only because I need to prove this letter wrong.”
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The house loomed large as we approached, its towering structure casting shadows over the untamed garden. Though once magnificent, the cracked facade and overgrown hedges hinted at years of neglect.
The door creaked open to reveal a woman who looked as though she had stepped out of a fashion magazine.
Her hair was glossy, her clothes perfectly tailored, and her jewelry glittered in the fading sunlight.
The sharp contrast between her polished appearance and the house’s state of decay was unsettling.
“Can I help you?” she asked, her tone crisp and unwelcoming.
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“Irene?” I ventured, my voice wavering. She nodded, her expression unreadable. “I’m Laura,” I continued hesitantly.
“My mother… she’s the one you accused in your letter.”
Irene’s eyes narrowed as she studied me. For a moment, I thought she might shut the door in our faces, but then she stepped aside, waving us in with a flick of her manicured hand.
“Come in,” she said curtly.
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The study she led us to was a glimpse into another time. Leather chairs, an antique desk, and shelves lined with dusty, leather-bound books exuded a quiet elegance.
Irene sat down, crossing her legs with precision, and gestured for us to do the same.
“My father, Charles, was a wealthy man,” she began, her voice steady but cold.
“In his later years, he became frail and forgetful. That’s when your mother came into our lives. She was hired as his caregiver, and at first, we thought she was wonderful—kind, patient, hardworking. But we were wrong.”
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My stomach tightened. “What do you mean?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
“She manipulated him,” Irene said bluntly.
“In his final months, when his mind was failing, she made him believe she was his daughter. She had him rewrite his will, cutting our family out of half his fortune.”
“That’s impossible!” I exclaimed, my hands trembling. “My mother wouldn’t—she couldn’t!”
Irene’s face remained impassive.
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“When he passed, she vanished with the money. And now, ten years later, we’re left to pick up the pieces. We’ve sold nearly everything to stay afloat.”
Neil squeezed my shoulder. “Laura,” he said gently, “this sounds serious. Maybe we should—”
“No!” I interrupted, tears streaming down my face. “She wouldn’t do that! My mother was the most honest person I’ve ever known.”
But even as I defended her, doubts crept into my mind. Images from my childhood flickered: my mother’s nervous smiles when I asked about the inheritance, her refusal to explain its origins.
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My thoughts spun faster, and then something else clicked—Neil.
The way he had confidently navigated the sprawling house, the way he’d casually called a cleaner by her name without an introduction.
When Irene excused herself to take a phone call, I turned to Neil, narrowing my eyes. “You’ve been here before, haven’t you?”
Neil stiffened, avoiding my gaze. “You’re imagining things,” he said, his voice a little too calm.
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“It’s been a rough week, Laura. Don’t let your mind play tricks on you.”
But I couldn’t shake the feeling. Something wasn’t right. “Fine,” I said finally, my voice cracking.
“If my mother really did this… I’ll return the money. I don’t want to live with stolen money. I need to do what’s right.”
Neil nodded, but his reaction felt… off. As Irene returned to the room, I steeled myself for what lay ahead, determined to uncover the truth—whatever it might be.
Back at my mom’s house the air felt eerily quiet as I dug through her safe, determined to find answers.
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Papers were stacked haphazardly, some yellowed with age, others crisp and untouched.
As I rifled through them, my fingers brushed against a small bundle of letters tied together with a faded ribbon.
Most of them were unopened, but one stood out—its envelope worn, its seal broken.
I pulled it out and unfolded the brittle paper, my heart pounding as I read the words scrawled in shaky handwriting:
“Dear Eleanor, I regret every day abandoning you as a child. Please let me make it up to you. I’ve written my will and included you, as you deserve. Please find a place in your heart to forgive me.
Charles”
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The words blurred as tears filled my eyes. My mother hadn’t stolen anything.
Charles, her employer, wasn’t just a kind old man—he was her father, my grandfather.
The inheritance was hers by right, a piece of justice for the years of pain he’d caused her.
A sharp knock at the door jolted me from my thoughts. Clutching the letter, I hurried to the living room.
Standing in the doorway was Irene, dressed in a sleek designer suit, her confidence practically radiating. Neil stood close to her, whispering something that made her smile.
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“What’s going on here?” I demanded, my voice cutting through the tense silence.
Neil spun around, his face pale. “Laura! You’re just in time,” he said, his tone overly cheerful. “Let’s get these documents signed.”
Irene stepped forward, her smile still plastered on. “Yes, let’s not drag this out.”
Neil laid the papers on the table and slid them toward me, but something inside me snapped.
Without hesitation, I grabbed the papers and tore them in half. “I know the truth,” I said, holding up the letter.
Irene’s smile faltered. “What truth?” she asked, her voice icy.
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“Charles was my grandfather,” I said, my voice steady despite the storm of emotions inside me.
“He gave my mother the money because he owed her. She didn’t steal anything.”
Neil’s face twisted in panic. “Laura, don’t be ridiculous—”
“Stop lying!” I shouted. “I saw you whispering to Irene. You’ve been working together, haven’t you?”
Irene turned on Neil, her composure slipping. “You said she’d sign! You promised! God, I can’t believe I wasted my time with you.”
Neil stammered, but I cut him off. “Get out. Both of you.”
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Neil dropped to his knees, pleading. “Laura, please. I made a mistake, but I love you.”
“Love doesn’t look like betrayal,” I said coldly, stepping back. “Goodbye, Neil.”
As they left, I held the letter close to my chest. My mother’s story wasn’t perfect, but it was hers, and it was honest. I wouldn’t let anyone tarnish her memory.
She had fought for what was right, and now, so would I.
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