Chapter 6
From the bistro window Riva watched cars moving up and down Main Street.
Everyone seemed to be in a hurry this afternoon.
Everyone but her. She still had several hours to kill before going home.
Hopefully she could drag out her stay here at O’Malley’s before going to the grocery store.
She should’ve told Fiona to take her time, but here she was coming with Riva’s order.
“Here you go.” Fiona set it down. “Would you like water?”
“No thanks.” Riva took in the generous piece of quiche, a pretty fruit salad, and a crusty piece of bread. “That looks wonderful. Thank you.”
“Do you enjoy music?”
“Music? What sort?”
“Live music, I should say. Specifically, Celtic folk.”
“As a matter of fact, I love Celtic music.” Riva mentioned some of her favorite groups.
Fiona’s blue eyes twinkled. “I had a feeling.” She produced a flyer with a photo of several smiling musicians.
“This is my band.” She pointed to the people.
“Ryan and Mae and, of course, that’d be me there with the fiddle.
We sometimes play here on the weekend. And some other venues as well.
Our upcoming gigs are listed there. We’ve got a show here tonight.
I hope you’ll come listen . . . sometime. ”
“I’d love to. Thank you.”
“And since you’ve lived here a long time, I thought I’d ask if you have recommendations for housing? Nothing too costly. I’ve been staying with Ryan and Mae, but their apartment is too small for three. I’ve got to find something else.”
“Well, there’s a real shortage of affordable housing here.
” Riva stared at Fiona for a long moment.
She suspected the woman was older than she’d first assumed.
Maybe early fifties, but it was hard to tell.
“I, uh, I don’t really know you. I mean, we just met.
But I do have a very large home, and I have a couple rooms that I’m considering renting out.
” She explained how Windy and Laurel were moving in with her.
“Right now, in fact. I’m trying to stay out of their way until they’re done. ”
“My word! It was pure luck to meet you.” Fiona’s eyes lit up.
“Would you consider renting to me? I can provide references from Bangor. Ireland, not Maine. And certainly Ryan and Mae will recommend me. I’m basically a quiet tenant, except for my music, of course.
I do need to practice my fiddle and mandolin.
But not loudly and never late at night.”
Riva pointed to what looked like a wedding ring on Fiona’s left hand. “Are you married?”
“I was. For thirty-one years.”
“Goodness, you don’t look old enough.”
“We were wee babes when we wed.” Her eyes grew sad. “I was almost twenty. Jamie a bit older. But my Jamie and me, we always said we grew up together after we got married. Sweet Jamie’s been gone for nearly five years now.”
“I’m sorry. I lost my husband too . . . not too long ago.”
Fiona reached for her hand and gave it a warm squeeze. “I’m sorry for your loss, Riva.” The bell jingling on the door drew Fiona’s attention to a pair of teens entering the bistro. “Excuse me. I do tend to run on and on like a magpie. Better get back to work.”
“Yes. No problem.” Riva nodded, picking up her fork.
As she ate, she wondered about this woman.
Something about Fiona was extremely likable.
But would she fit in well at Riva’s house?
What would Laurel and Windy think? She suspected Windy would like her.
But Laurel? She’d be sharing the same floor with her.
What if Laurel didn’t appreciate the music?
Maybe Fiona could practice somewhere else in the house.
Whatever the case, Riva decided to leave Fiona her phone number with a note saying to call her for an interview.
After all, Fiona would need to see the house.
She might not even like it. But if she did, Riva would get a chance to chat with her further.
The bistro got progressively busier, and soon it was obvious that Riva’s table would be needed by the elderly couple now placing an order up front.
Although she’d considered ordering the bread pudding and a cup of coffee, Riva felt guilty for tying up the table while the couple waited.
She took her little note to the counter and handed it to Fiona.
“Give me a call,” she mouthed as she moved toward the door.
Fiona nodded eagerly. “Thank you,” she called back. “Come again.”
As Riva drove to the grocery store, she noticed a flower stand on a corner and decided that her new tenants deserved some festive blooms to celebrate their first night in their new home.
She used to get fresh flowers regularly.
If not from Paul’s garden, then from various spots in town, but she’d never seen this little kiosk before.
She took her time and finally decided on a woodsy bouquet of sunflowers, purple delphinium, cedar greens, and Queen Anne’s lace.
“This is a lovely arrangement,” she said as she paid the girl working the stand. “Very creative.”
“Thanks.” The girl handed her change back. “My mom’s the floral artist. Anyway, that’s what Dad calls her. I’ll be sure to tell her you liked it.” The girl’s phone dinged, and she turned away to answer it.
Riva laid her flowers on the passenger’s side.
She checked her own phone, which had no calls, then continued on her way.
It was just a little past three and seemed too soon to get groceries and go home.
And yet, she was tired of being away and had actually hoped her new housemates would call.
Her curiosity about what was going on at her house was growing.
But no news was probably good news. So on to the grocery store.
And then she would head home. If they were still moving, she would busy herself unloading things before taking a quick peek at their progress.
And if no one wanted her around, she’d drive back to the nursery to pick up her plants.
Riva hated grocery shopping. It hadn’t always been that way, but she’d never really enjoyed it.
Paul, for some unknown reason, hadn’t minded doing grocery runs.
She’d often text him a list in the late afternoon while he was still in his law office, and he’d fill the list on his way home, often with a bouquet of grocery store flowers.
And he never complained about it. Oh, how she missed that!
By the time she got home and unloaded everything from her car, Riva was tired. That return trip to the nursery could wait until morning. Not for the first time, she wondered how she used to have so much more energy. Was it aging? Or was it lingering sadness over losing Paul? She couldn’t be sure.
Riva was just putting the last roll of paper towels into a high cabinet when she heard footsteps behind her. Turning to see who was approaching, she nearly tumbled off her stepstool.
“Whoa there.” Marcus stepped up from behind, helping to catch her before she fell. “Easy does it.”
Embarrassed at her clumsiness, she pushed away his hand as her feet hit the floor. “Thank you,” she said curtly.
“Didn’t want to see you splattered all over the floor.” He looked amused. “You know most accidents happen at home.”
“So I’ve heard.” She folded the stool and stashed it by the fridge. “Sneaking up on someone is probably a good way to cause an accident as well.”
“Sorry. I didn’t know you were jumpy. Probably from living alone. Guess you’ll have to get past it.”
“Right.” She watched as he pulled out a barstool and made himself comfortable at her breakfast bar.
“This really is a great kitchen.” He rubbed his hands together as if he was hungry.
“Can I help you with something?”
“I came down for a drink of water. Helping Windy arrange and rearrange that attic, which is getting pretty warm, made me thirsty.”
“Yes. Of course. Do you want something besides water? I got some sodas.”
“No, water is fine. I would have gotten it myself but was feeling intrusive.”
“Let me get it. Sorry for snapping at you.” She rolled her eyes as she got down two water glasses. “I guess nearly falling startled me. Like a bad adrenaline rush.”
“That’s understandable.”
She put ice cubes in the glasses, then filled them. “I’m usually super careful. The idea of being that old lady you see in TV commercials—lying helplessly on the floor, crying for help and wishing for an emergency necklace device—well, that image always makes me nervous.”
He laughed. “You are not an old lady.”
She set his glass on the table, then lifted hers in a toast. “Here’s to that. But we’re all getting older.”
He clinked his glass against hers. “Then maybe the good news is that you’re not alone. If you fall down, you have roommates to help you up.”
She gave him a genuine smile. “That is good news. How are they doing?”
“Okay. Laurel’s all moved in and looks happy as a clam.”
“And Windy?”
“She’s got that artistic temperament. Wants everything perfect. So much so that despite the sauna up there, she wouldn’t even let me get her portable AC unit going for her. She has to figure out the perfect spot first.”
“I’m glad to hear she has AC. I was worried about that.” She sipped her water.
“Yeah. And that’s why I’m hanging around. Plus, I wanted to ask if I could make a hole in the wall for its exhaust air. I’ll make it look good. And you’ll still be able to close it in winter.”
“Sure, that’s fine. I couldn’t imagine anyone living up there on a hot day with no AC.”
“The rest of your house seems comfortable.”
“We got a heat pump with AC several years ago,” she said, taking another sip of water. “Just one of the investments we made into this money pit.”
“Money pit?”
“Well, there were a lot of things that needed attention before we knew what was ahead with Paul’s illness and medical expenses. I guess if we’d known, we’d have done things differently.”
He seemed to consider this. “I have a feeling Paul was glad for the fixes. It made this a better place for you.”
“Maybe.”
“I know if Anne had survived me, I’d have wanted to leave her comfortable.”
Even if that left her in deep debt? Instead of saying that, she asked a question. “Anne was your wife?”
He simply nodded, toying with the flowers she’d arranged in a green vase. “Pretty.” He attempted to straighten a drooping sunflower.
Taking the hint that he didn’t want to talk about his wife, she picked up the flyer she’d laid on the breakfast counter. “I met a member of this Irish folk band today.”
“Irish folk?” He sounded interested.
“Yes. And Celtic.” She handed him the flyer.
“Cool.” He nodded. “Wanna go?”
“Go?”
“And hear them perform.” He pointed to a line. “They’re playing at O’Malley’s tonight at 7:30.”
“Oh, right. I actually had lunch there today.” She ran a finger around the moisture outside of her glass, trying to gather her thoughts.
Was he just being friendly or was he asking her on a date?
“To be honest, I’m pretty worn out. And I have to get plants from the nursery in the morning.
I bought them and realized I didn’t have room in my SUV.
And besides that, I have my new housemates.
I thought I should fix them dinner tonight. ”
“In other words, no?”
“Thank you for asking.” She smiled. “Another time?” That was no sooner out of her mouth than she wished it wasn’t. What about Laurel?
But his face had already lit up. “Great. I’ll hold you to it,” he said. “You mentioned plants at the nursery. I don’t know if you noticed, but I do happen to have a pickup.”
“Which you’ve been putting to good use today. I’m sure Windy and Laurel appreciate it.”
“I couldn’t have done it without Max’s help.”
“Windy’s son?”
“Yeah. He’s got a strong back. Fortunately for me.”
“Maybe you and Max would like to join us for dinner,” she offered. “It won’t be anything fancy. Just spaghetti and salad and bread. But there will be plenty.”
“Max is gone. Previous engagement. But I could go for a home-cooked meal.” He tilted his head. “But I thought you didn’t cook.”
“I don’t love cooking, but I do know how. And it’s always more fun when there are people to cook for.” She glanced at the clock. “I should probably get the meat sauce going. It’s always better if it simmers awhile.”
“Anything I can do?”
She strained her ears. “Sounds like Windy’s calling for you.”
“Maybe she’s decided where to put her AC unit.” He stood.
She picked up their empty glasses. “I want to go say hi to Laurel and check out her new digs.” She set the glasses in the sink. “Then I’ll start dinner.”
“If the AC biz doesn’t take too long, my offer to help is still good.”
She gave him a skeptical look. “So, are you saying you’re a good cook?”
“Nah, I would never make that claim. And if I did, September Wind would blow in and show me up.”
She chuckled. “September Wind. I can’t imagine growing up with a name like that. Although Riva was no walk in the park when my friends had names like Susan and Sandra and Pam.” She pointed at him. “And August Storm?” She laughed. “Sorry.”
“To be honest, it wasn’t so bad once we moved to the commune. All the kids had weird names. By the way, do you know the meaning of your name?”
“It was my grandmother’s name. She was Jewish and told me it was related to the name Rebecca and something to do with rivers. But that’s about all I know.”
“Well, I thought it was an unusual name, so I did some research,” he said as they started up the stairs.
“And?” She turned to look at him.
“It has an interesting meaning.”
“Really? What?”
“Riva means to join or connect.”
“Interesting. I never heard that before.”
“Ironically, it seems that’s what you’re doing now.” He paused at the landing. “Joining with and connecting friends together in your home.”
She considered this. After a year and a half of grieving and becoming somewhat reclusive, the idea of bringing people together felt like a hopeful sign. Like maybe she was going to live up to her name.