Chapter 5 #2
She’d promised to leave her phone on just in case her new tenants had any questions, but she’d already told them where everything was located and to make themselves at home. Laurel and Windy were intelligent women. They’d probably get along better without her hovering about.
Still, a part of her felt slightly left out as she shopped for some household items and cleaning tools.
As she loaded her purchases in the back of her SUV, she wondered how things were going at home.
She was tempted to slip back to drop these things off and sneak a peek.
But she was curious what she hoped to see.
Was it how the move was going? Or was this about Marcus?
And why was she thinking about him so much?
Especially since she knew by now that Laurel had her eye on the friendly handyman.
Riva would never admit this to anyone, but she was more than a little curious as to how Laurel’s plan for getting better acquainted with Marcus was going.
Was Laurel’s attraction one-sided or did Marcus have interest too?
And, really, she couldn’t blame Laurel for feeling drawn to the man.
In the last several days, he’d shown himself to be thoughtful, helpful, kind, capable .
. . So many qualities that single women considered in a seriously great catch.
Not Riva though. She was content being single.
At least, that’s what she always told everyone. And she meant it, didn’t she?
As she drove to her favorite nursery, she pushed thoughts of whatever was happening at her house, and with the people there, far from her mind.
Then as she strolled around the nursery, taking in the plethora of beautiful plants that would brighten her yard, she couldn’t stop herself from filling first one wagon and then another!
She knew she was going over her budget, but since getting the financial pad from rent money, her purse strings had been loosened a bit.
Plus, she told herself, she was getting these things for her new tenants to enjoy too.
Not only that, but if Laurel’s predictions were right, the tenant population in Riva’s house should be on the increase soon.
Already Laurel had directed an interested candidate Riva’s way.
Laurel’s hairstylist Kitty Brinson had called Riva yesterday.
Kitty owned a salon in town, and she’d actually been sleeping there at night.
Apparently it was her only recourse to escape a bad relationship.
But it seemed the city caught wind of this infraction and had given Kitty notice.
They might ignore homeowners housing tenants, but business properties were strictly off-limits.
Riva had invited Kitty to come check out the available rooms on Monday morning.
It wasn’t until Riva was paying for her plants that she realized her SUV wouldn’t have room for all of them, along with the purchases she’d just made and the groceries she still planned to get.
“Do you deliver?” she asked the cashier.
“Not on the weekends. But we can hold your plants for twenty-four hours. Or else schedule them to be delivered on Monday. But it’s fifty dollars for delivery.”
Riva considered. “I’ll pick them up tomorrow morning.”
“You got it.” He handed her a pad. “Just write down your name and phone number, and they’ll be safe in back.”
She wrote it down, took her receipt, and thanked him.
As she drove away, she remembered Old Red.
Paul’s classic ’66 Ford pickup had been handy for chores like this.
But she’d let it go shortly after Paul passed.
It had made her too sad to see Old Red sitting forlorn and forgotten in her driveway.
But now she missed the old beast. Maybe she should’ve kept it.
As she cruised through town, she realized she was hungry.
Her breakfast of yogurt and toast had not stayed with her, and it was already past one.
Spotting a parking place in front of a bistro called O’Malley’s, she nabbed it and went inside.
She’d never been in the bistro since it hadn’t been open too long.
Seeing only a few customers inside, she wondered if this was a good choice.
But a woman with silver hair pulled back into a thick ponytail greeted her so warmly from behind the counter, Riva couldn’t turn away.
“Welcome to O’Malley’s.” The woman gestured to a handwritten menu on the board behind her. “Can I get you something to drink?”
“Do you have iced tea?”
“We most assuredly do. Today’s brew is black tea with a wee bit of lavender and fresh mint. ’Tis my favorite blend.”
“That sounds nice.”
“Aye, ’tis lovely.”
Riva considered the woman’s strong accent. “Are you Irish?”
“You’re right about that. I’m Fiona Harris. My brother Ryan O’Malley and his wife Mae own this bistro.” Her smile was bright, and her youthful face didn’t seem to match the silver hair. “I try to help. You know, it’s a bit rough getting set in a new restaurant in a new town.”
“So, you and your family are new to Greenwood?”
“Aye. Ryan and Mae tried to make a go of it in Boston, but they didn’t like city living so they bought this place last winter. It took them a bit to get it up and running, but it was a good time for me to come over to help some. I’ve been here since March.”
“Well, I hope you like our little town. Welcome.” She smiled. “My name’s Riva Owen. I’ve lived here all my life.”
“Greenwood seems a nice place. Not too big. Not too small.”
“This is my first time here. What do you recommend?”
“’Tis all good. Today’s soup is lamb stew and it’s lovely. But our quiche is quite nice too.” As she poured iced tea, she described their quiche options, and Riva went with the seafood one.
“And if you’re still hungry, we have some bread pudding that’s perfectly heavenly.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Riva paid and thanked her.
“’Twas a pleasure to meet you, Riva.” Fiona turned to greet the young couple just coming in. “I’ll bring your order out to you when it’s ready.”
Riva sat at a table by the front window, slowly sipping her tea, which was delicious, and watching Fiona wait on customers.
Such a friendly person. Riva would’ve liked to ask her more about Ireland, wondering if she’d left her homeland for good or just for an extended visit.
Riva had wanted to get Paul to go to Ireland with her, and had even put it on their bucket list .
. . and then it was too late. But it still appealed to her.
Not that she could afford it now. And even if she could, would she want to go alone?
Probably not. As much as she longed for independence, doing things alone was never as simple and easy as she thought it should be.
And it usually made her miss Paul more than ever.