Chapter 20
For the first half of Windy’s drumming session, Riva felt awkward, out of place, and tempted to sneak out.
The problem was she’d ridden with Windy, and it was about a five-mile walk back into town—and more than ninety degrees outside.
Not that this old barn was much cooler, and it was getting warmer by the minute.
She wondered how these other women, about fifty of them, weren’t overheating as they danced around the barn, chanting and singing and playing their drums. Windy’s cheeks were flushed and her brow glistened, but she appeared to be having the time of her life.
Riva suspected if Fiona had come, she’d be enjoying it too.
But she’d been called to work at the last minute.
Riva hadn’t even left the folding chair she’d sat in when they first arrived.
The chairs were still circled, but very few were occupied.
Instead of feeling like a wallflower, she was starting to feel conspicuous for not participating.
But like Windy had told her, she was supposed to do only what she was comfortable with.
Realizing she might feel more at ease mixing with the women, she abruptly stood and joined the throng.
After a few trips around the circle, she began to relax some.
She beat her borrowed drum with more enthusiasm.
And after several more loops, she started to enjoy the sound and movement and music.
Was this what it felt like to cut loose and not worry about what others thought of her?
She used to be free-spirited and easygoing back in her youth.
But after marrying young, having kids, and reinventing a career track, well, her grown-up responsibilities had taken over and changed her.
Finally, caretaking for Paul had sealed the deal.
Drained of any ability to simply have good old-fashioned, unrestrained fun, she’d resided to growing old.
Gracefully? Or truth be told, she’d given up.
Riva paused from drumming to really see the women around her.
From gray-haired earth muffins to young women in yoga pants, they were all from different walks of life, but they seemed to share one thing—a happy abandonment.
She wanted that too. So if dancing around, beating a drum, and howling like a she-wolf could free her from her “inhibition” trap, she’d try it.
Maybe it was just what the doctor had ordered.
By the time the session ended, Riva knew she would come back again. She felt strangely energized and refreshed and more connected to her heavenly Father. “That was amazing,” she told Windy as they got into her VW Bug later on. “Thank you for bringing me.”
“I noticed it took you time to warm up, but then you were really present.”
“I feel like I got over some kind of obstacle or wall. Who knew pounding a drum could be so inspiring.”
“And liberating.” Windy nodded. “When I first started going, I was trying to find myself. I had gotten so confused . . . I was trying so hard to fit into a traditional role that I think I swept my unconventional childhood under the proverbial rug. But my traditional world had been vanishing too. When I lost Bill and my house and my job, I started to feel pretty lost. And invisible.”
Riva pointed to Windy’s tie-dye shirt and flamboyant leggings. “You don’t look invisible to me.”
Windy laughed. “I suppose clothes make me look more visible, but that’s not what I mean. There was something deep inside me that made me feel like I was slowly disappearing. I was worried about getting older, being alone, having no home. More and more I felt invisible, like the vanishing woman.”
“I guess I sometimes feel invisible too. But I think I’ve gotten used to it. Maybe even comfortable with it. I assumed it was just part of aging. Especially in our youth-worshiping culture. Older women tend to blend into the woodwork.”
“If they choose to. But I think we can live differently. We can keep embracing life. Just because we’re older doesn’t mean we can’t have fun.”
“Like last night with Laurel and Kitty?” Riva teased.
“Okay, that wasn’t exactly fun. It could’ve been though.”
“Speaking of that, did you come up with any brilliant ideas for how we can convince Kitty to move on?”
“Get her married off?” Windy chuckled.
“Right . . . that might take some time.”
“Evict her?” Windy suggested, tapping her chin. “No. Maybe we need to go about it more creatively.”
“Creatively?”
“Yes. Find out what gets under her skin and devise a way to dish it out.”
“Such as?”
“Like if she wants peace and quiet, we’d become noisy. Although I don’t think that she’d care. And if she were a neat freak, we could create messes. But I got a sneak peek in her room the other day, and the woman’s a slob.”
“I have a feeling that Kitty would be better at getting to us than we could ever have luck getting to her.”
Windy nodded. “I remember a Melanie Griffith movie where this guy, I think he’s played by Michael Keaton. Anyway, he’s this lowlife who moves into this couple’s basement and starts to drive them absolutely wild. His goal is to take their house from them, and it gets pretty gnarly.”
Riva cringed. “I hope you’re not suggesting that Kitty would do something that depraved.”
“No, of course not. But it was a creepy movie.” Windy turned down Riva’s street, revving her VW’s engine to climb the hill.
“I think your first idea was the best.” Riva waved to a neighbor walking their dog.
“Huh?”
“You know, to get Kitty married off.”
“Well, don’t expect Marcus to help us with that.” Windy chuckled. “Poor guy got so exasperated with her last night, if there’d been a bus running, he might’ve tossed her right under it.”
“Your brother is too much of a gentleman to do that.”
Windy parked in the driveway. “Maybe, but if he gets pushed too hard . . .”
“I felt kinda guilty leaving Kitty and Laurel home alone in the house when we left.” Riva got out. “But the place appears to still be standing.”
“I bet Kitty has a hangover today. She’s probably not feeling energetic enough to torment Laurel.”
“Speaking of energetic.” Riva stretched her hands skyward, inhaling deeply. “Drumming made me feel ready to take on something.”
“Like Kitty?”
Riva wrinkled her nose. “Let’s not push it.” She pointed to the front yard, still in need of some attention. “I meant energetic enough to pull some more weeds.”
Windy put her car in park. “Don’t get overheated. I heard we’ll be close to triple digits today.”
“Good point. Maybe I’ll wait until a cool morning.” She opened the front door. “Do you need any help with dinner tonight? Or have you changed plans?”
“You mean due to our feuding roomies?”
“Or the heat.”
“Fiona already invited some of her bandmates, and I told Marcus he has to bring at least one friend. Plus, I’ve made salads and have seafood all ready to grill.
So as far as I’m concerned, we’re still on.
” Windy looked up toward the house and then lowered her voice.
“Maybe we’ll get lucky and Kitty will have other plans.
She seemed to make a number of young male friends last night.
Cross your fingers. She could have a hot date. ”
Riva crossed her fingers.
“And if not, we’ll just let the good times roll. Right?”
“Yeah, right.” But Riva wondered what it might really take to get Kitty to seek alternative housing.
She didn’t want to do anything underhanded.
Perhaps she just needed to be the adult here and talk face-to-face with Kitty.
Riva would gently explain her incompatibility concerns with the other tenants.
She could offer Kitty two weeks’ notice, refund her last month’s rent, as well as return her full security deposit regardless of the condition of her bedroom and hall bath, which based on Windy’s descriptions, was less than pristine.
But she didn’t want to throw a wrench into tonight’s dinner plans.
Maybe this conversation could wait until tomorrow.
Riva was relieved not to cross paths with Kitty for the whole day, and when she went to help Windy with dinner preparations, Kitty was still nowhere to be seen.
“Do you think she’s okay?” Riva asked as she wiped down the backyard table. “Should anyone check on her?”
“Fiona saw her leaving earlier. She thought she was headed to her salon.”
“Have you talked to Laurel?”
Windy nodded. “Yes, she was just down here offering to help.”
“How did she seem? I mean, after last night’s turbulence.” Riva shook out a gingham tablecloth, then smoothed it over the table.
Windy bit her lip. “To be honest, she seemed a little stressed. I think Kitty’s taking her toll on poor Laurel.”
“Just one more reason to encourage Kitty to move on.” Riva cringed to imagine that conversation. What had made her think she could be a landlord?
Windy fanned herself with a hand. “It’s still awfully warm out here. Do you think our guests can handle it?”
“It should be cooling off soon. How about I make a gallon of ice water with lemons to put out here? And we used to have a backyard fan. Maybe I can hunt it down in the garage.”
“Good idea.” Windy looked around. “I think things are under control out here. I’m going to make a fresh pitcher of iced tea.”
Glad to be out of the heat, Riva went to the garage to see if she could unearth the fan Paul had gotten for days like this.
While poking around, she found her old box of art supplies.
Paul had made the box for her when the kids were small.
She opened the lid to see everything still neatly in place, just like she’d left it.
Maybe this was the “new thing” she wanted to take on.
How long had it been since she’d dabbled?
She set the wooden box by the door, promising herself to look into it later.