Chapter 24
“That woman is a real piece of work.” Laurel slammed the bag of peas on the kitchen counter. “Now she’s demanding a real ice pack for her ankle, which, in my opinion, hardly needs it. That is, if it’s even sprained at all. It’s barely swollen.”
“Well, that might be from keeping it chilled and elevated. And I had meant to get a real ice pack to Kitty by now.” Riva picked up the soggy bag of peas. “Windy only used these as a temporary measure.”
“Speaking of Windy, do you have any idea what she’s doing right now?” Laurel filled a glass with water.
“No.” Riva put the peas in the freezer, then dug out the ice pack that she used to keep handy for her kids.
“Well, kindhearted Windy is cleaning Kitty’s room.”
“No small task.” Riva cut the tuna fish sandwich she’d just made for Kitty in half, then set it on the plate, along with some apple slices and carrot sticks.
“And she had the gall to ask me to clean the bathroom that Kitty has pretty much trashed.”
“Oh?” Riva studied Laurel. “And?”
Laurel shrugged as she snitched a carrot stick from Kitty’s lunch plate.
“I told her I’d think about it, but only because I peeked in there and, no kidding, it looked like a death trap.
Especially with crutches. And whether or not Kitty’s ankle is actually sprained, she could fall down and break her neck and sue the socks right off you, Riva. Have you seen it?”
Riva shook her head.
“Well, I came down to get a garbage bag. My plan is to temporarily clear all Kitty’s excess clothes and shoes and any other crud that I think she could live without and eliminate the tripping hazard.
” Laurel rooted around in the under-sink cabinet.
First, she pulled out a pair of rubber gloves and then a carton of big black yard bags.
She tugged one out and shook it open. “Then I’ll put her mess in this. ”
“And then what?” Riva imagined the hissy fit Kitty would pitch. “You wouldn’t dare throw it away, would you?”
“No, of course not. But she obviously doesn’t need all this junk while she’s off her feet. I’ll just stick it in the garage for now. I’ll label the bag with her name so it’s not mistaken for trash. Although,” she added, “it all looked pretty trashy to me.”
“Well, I think it’s kind of you to clean that bathroom, Laurel. I think Kitty will too. She seems to want to start making some changes in her life.” Riva set a damp sponge by the sink. “Maybe we can help her.”
“Seriously?” Laurel tugged on a rubber glove. “I’d like to help her—by packing her bags and calling her a taxi.”
Riva considered asking Laurel to take the lunch up to Kitty but didn’t want to push her luck. Instead, she followed her, listening as Laurel continued to grumble about Kitty all the way up to the second floor.
Parting ways in the hall, Riva entered Kitty’s room to see Windy holding up a hot pink garment that was either a cocktail dress or a sparkly swimsuit.
“How about if we put this away for now too,” Windy was saying.
“It doesn’t seem like the type of dress you’d wear very much. Especially with a sprained ankle.”
Kitty waved a hand. “Whatever. I don’t care right now. Just as long as I can get to the box if I need it.”
“Like I said, I’m just going to put this in the linen closet.” Windy smiled at Riva. “We’re trying to make Kitty’s room more livable.”
“We as in Windy.” Kitty pushed herself up to a sitting position. “Is that for me?” she asked Riva, nodding toward the food. “I don’t have much appetite.”
“I thought you could use a little nourishment. It’s only tuna fish.” Riva handed her the plate. “Do your best.”
Kitty wrinkled her nose but didn’t reject it.
“And I found those crutches in the garage, but they were so dusty I took them outside to hose them off. They’re drying in the sunshine.”
“Thanks,” Kitty said with a full mouth. “Not that I can get around with them. Even if I can manage, how will I get down the stairs?”
“You probably don’t need to worry about that right now.” Riva picked up a pair of silver sandals with tall spiky heels, then handed them to Windy. “I’m guessing she won’t need these for a while either.”
Windy dropped them in a box with shoes and boots and purses.
As Kitty ate, Windy and Riva continued to clean and organize the bedroom.
Windy focused on gleaning frivolous items as well as trash, while Riva collected the more practical clothes and shoes and placed them in the closet.
After about an hour, they were done. Windy was taking the last box out, and Riva collected the empty lunch plate.
“Can I get you anything else?” Riva noticed her copy of Pride and Prejudice mostly hidden under the bed. “Do you remember our agreement when you moved in, Kitty?” she asked, stooping to pick up the book.
“About reading that?”
“Yes. That was part of the deal. And you did promise to read it.”
“Or to watch the movie.”
“The book group might’ve agreed to that, but I never did.” Riva handed her the book. “Since you have nothing better to do and since I’m still not sure about you remaining here, I suggest you keep your end of the deal and get reading.”
Kitty scowled as she opened the book. “Fine, but don’t blame me if it puts me to sleep.”
Riva glanced around the transformed room. “Does it feel good to see order in here?”
“Yeah, whatever.”
Riva didn’t expect a personal thank-you, but a little appreciation would be welcome.
Couldn’t she see how much better this room looked?
“Happy reading.” Riva carried the plate out, quietly closing the door.
As she went downstairs, she wondered just how far she and the other housemates should go to help the mess of a woman who didn’t seem to want their assistance or even think she needed it.
After several days of catering to Kitty, Riva and the others were getting fed up. It wasn’t that it was that much work when shared by four women, but it was irritating to witness Kitty’s ingratitude and complaints.
“It’s understandable that she’d be edgy from being cooped up and in pain like that,” Riva said to the others while she finished loading a dinner plate for Kitty.
“And she’s probably lonely too. I mean, none of us have been overly friendly to her, and she doesn’t have her salon gals around. I’m surprised none have come to visit.”
“Maybe they feel the same about her as we do,” Windy said glumly. “Safer to keep a distance.”
“But she needs friends,” Riva argued. With that thought in mind, she decided to take her own dinner plate upstairs.
“I’d rather befriend Cruella de Vil,” Laurel declared. “And I happen to adore sweet little puppies,”
“Well, I’m going to make an attempt.” She picked up both plates. “If you ladies will excuse me, I’ll be eating with Kitty tonight.”
“Don’t be too sure. She might just toss you out,” Fiona said. “I brought her a pastry from work and she just yelled at me.”
“Hurt people hurt people,” Riva said. “But I’m prepared for her rejection. I might be right back.”
“Good luck,” Fiona told her.
“You’ll need it,” Windy added.
“Watch your head,” Laurel warned.
By now they were all questioning how serious Kitty’s “sprained” ankle really was.
Laurel was certain she was faking it, but Riva wasn’t so sure.
Kitty seemed the kind of person who would be up and running if her foot was okay.
Well, unless she was depressed . . . or hiding out .
. . or both. Riva knew that Kitty was concerned about her ex showing up.
At least, she claimed to be. Although Laurel claimed that was a hoax as well.
Riva knocked quietly on the door, then poked her head in. “Dinnertime.”
Kitty looked up from the book she was reading, squinting as if to focus. “Oh, it’s just you.”
“Who were you expecting?” Riva asked a bit hotly.
“Guess I should’ve said, oh, good, it’s you.” Kitty smirked. “Dinner already?”
“It’s past seven.” Riva handed her a plate. “I thought I could join you, if you want company. I don’t want to intrude.”
“Well, your company is better than others in this house.” Kitty picked up her fork.
Riva sat down, biting her tongue. She wasn’t going to allow Kitty to bait her into a silly argument like Laurel kept falling for. “Looks like you’ve made good progress in that book.”
“Yeah, once I got past the seriously boring factor, it got kinda interesting. Plus, I remembered how Marcus said he liked Jane Austen books.”
“Right.” Riva wasn’t surprised that Kitty would be more inclined to read Austen because of Marcus, just aggravated. “So can you relate to any of the characters?”
Kitty nodded as she forked into potato salad. “I think I’m like Jane.”
“Jane?” Riva blinked. “Why Jane?” She held back from pointing out how Jane was a shy, kindhearted, sensitive person.
“Jane was the beauty of the house and the whole neighborhood.”
Riva sighed. “That’s true.”
“But I think Jane should go for Mr. Darcy instead of Mr. Bingley.”
“Why’s that?”
“Mr. Darcy is a better catch. He comes across as a smug know-it-all, but he’s handsome and rich. More exciting than Bingley.”
“Right . . .” Riva considered informing her that Jane does end up with Bingley and Elizabeth gets Mr. Darcy, but she didn’t want to spoil the ending. “What do you think of Lydia?”
Kitty chuckled. “What a little airhead.”
“A pretty airhead,” Riva said. “Remember how I told you she was a jerk magnet.”
“But she hooked George Wickham, and he seems like a pretty good catch too. He’s not rich like the other guys, but he’s fun. I could go for him.”
“And you probably have too.”
“Huh?” Kitty paused her fork in midair.
“I guess you’ll find out as you continue to read.” Riva decided to change the subject and asked about Kitty’s ankle. “Is it still hurting a lot?”
Kitty shrugged. “It’s okay until I bump it trying to get around on those things.” She nodded to the crutches leaning against her bed. “Just getting back and forth to the bathroom is a real pain. I told Laurel she should switch rooms with me so I could have a bathroom nearby.”
“How’d that go for you?”
Kitty rolled her eyes. “How do ya think it went?”
“Pretty sure she declined.”
“I know I’m not popular here.” Kitty bit into a roll. “But I’m used to it.”
“Used to it?”
“Oh, you know. Women always resent beautiful women. I’ve seen it all my life. No big deal.”
“Do you have any women friends, Kitty?”
Kitty looked down at her plate. “I have friends.”
“We haven’t noticed you getting any visitors.” Riva cut off a piece of chicken.
“My friends aren’t like that.” Kitty made what looked like a forced smile. “They’re more into having fun than visiting someone stuck in bed, but that’s okay.”
“I guess it’s okay if you don’t mind.” Riva bit her lip.
“But I’ve discovered, especially as I get older, I like having friends I can count on.
Although I’ll admit I didn’t really figure this out until Paul got sick.
He’d always been my best friend, but losing him showed me how much I needed good dependable friends. ”
“Good for you.”
Riva pointed to the book lying open on the bed. “One thing I like about that story is how the sisters, especially Jane and Elizabeth, are also such good friends. Loyal and devoted.”
“Not to Lydia. They treat her like the black sheep of the family.”
“I think it’s because they can’t relate to her. When they try to help her or advise her, Lydia doesn’t listen. She just wants to go her own way and have fun.”
“You can’t blame a girl for that.”
“I guess not. But her actions remind me of a saying my grandmother liked to use. If you dance to the music, you have to pay the fiddler.”
“Unless it’s Fiona.” Kitty chuckled. “She fiddles for free. At least for us.”
“Right.” Riva knew she wasn’t getting through and, although her dinner was only partially eaten, she no longer felt hungry. She was about to excuse herself when Kitty spoke up.
“I know, I know. You think I’m just a hopeless hot mess. You’re right for the most part. I am a mess.”
“Are you okay with that? Being a mess, I mean?”
Kitty shrugged. “Sometimes . . . and sometimes not.”
“Do you think you’ll do anything about it?”
“You mean, will I change?” Kitty asked.
Riva nodded.
“Because if I don’t change, you’ll kick me out?”
“I wasn’t going to say that, but yes, if you keep breaking the rules and living like you’re in your twenties, I’ll ask you to leave.”
“What if I can’t change?” Kitty slumped back.
Riva wasn’t sure if that was a question or a challenge.
“What if I don’t know how to change?” Kitty tried again.
“I think if you want to change, you will need to be open to help. And I think the women living in this house could all be of help. In fact, they already have been.” She waved a hand to the still-tidy room. “But I’m not even sure you thanked them.”
“Thanked them for feeling sorry for me? Thanked them for their pity?” She scowled. “That doesn’t work for me.”
“Hurts your pride?”
“Yeah, it does. And sometimes that’s all a girl has left. Her pride.” Kitty nodded firmly. “Gotta protect it, right?”
“I understand, but I don’t agree. I’ve personally found pride to be problematic. I’d rather work on my humility than protect my pride.”
“Yeah, but you’re different than me.”
“Everyone is different.”
As they continued to eat, bantering conflicting ideals over strength and pride and whether a person could change, Riva realized that, short of a miracle, teaching an old dog new tricks would be challenging at best, even one who imagined she was a young pup.