Chapter 16 Ris #3
“I’ve lived here for two decades, and I still feel like I don’t know anyone.”
“I work remotely, and I talk to my cats and plants way too much. It’s really hard to make friends after forty. I can’t imagine how hard it will be at a hundred.”
“I just moved back into town, and the thought of joining the club here stresses me out too much. I went to one lunch and it was the most anxious day of my life.”
“I grew up in an enclave,” Lurielle piped up, gratefully accepting the tissues that were passed to her, dabbing her eyes.
“And it destroyed my self-esteem. It took a lot of therapy to undo the damage, and I’m still a work in progress.
I’m super low contact with my parents, I’ve been on maternity leave for most of the year, and I can count my friends on one hand.
My husband is an orc, and I’ve been crying over the future pretty much nonstop for the last few years. I’m terrified of what’s ahead.”
“I’ve lived in Cambric Creek my whole life,” the dryad announced.
“And I’m already probably a lot older than most of you in this room.
I’ve always had a lot of friends. Friends that I love.
But having to say goodbye to people you love over and over again .
. . it breaks off a little part of you each time.
And I’m never going to trade out those relationships, but .
. . well, as you said, we have a lot of road.
I can’t tell you how excited I was to see this pop up on the community roster. It’s overdue.”
“I’ve lived in Cambric Creek since college,” began an athletic-looking sylvan. “And we love it here. My husband and I have a little boy, and I truly feel like I’m living my dream life. But my husband is also a different species, and thinking about the future has begun to weigh on me. A lot.”
“I lived in Cambric Creek for years,” Ris offered. “My boyfriend and I live in the city now, but I still consider this home. And we also have a differing species lifespan dynamic.”
The murmur that went through the crowd was like a small wave, and she realized just how many of them were likely in the same situation. Dip your toes in the waters of experience.
“I don’t have a significant other from a different species,” Dynah offered, her nervous laugh making an appearance as her voice wavered, accepting the tissues from Lurielle.
“I don’t have . . . anyone, really. I also grew up in an enclave, but I wasn’t offered membership when I moved here for work. And I’m so afraid of being alone.”
The conversation loosened after that. A few of the women talked about feeling isolated through motherhood. Others mentioned similar worries over the future, of being alone.
“So is the goal for this to be ongoing?” the naiad asked. “What will the structure be? Like, do we need a volunteer board?”
Instantly, voices piped up. “I’d help.”
“Me too.”
“Will it always be scheduled for the evenings?”
“I’m hoping we can figure that out together,” Ris answered honestly.
“Can I ask if you’ve thought through what this will look like, ten years down the road?” The dryad again, leaning forward, chin on her knuckles, her eyes sharp and intent.
Ris swallowed. “I’ll be honest, I haven’t thought of anything.
I haven’t thought of anything but this,” she waved her hand at the board, “pretty endlessly for the past few years. The first event I tried to organize fizzled. Tonight is me reaching out, wishing on a star. I’m an HR manager, and I don’t have a background in community organizing or nonprofit management.
I fully admit I might not be the best person to lead this. ”
“Well, right now I disagree,” the dryad said bluntly. “Because I’ve been thinking of it for a hell of a lot longer than you, and I haven’t done anything. But if we’re talking future planning, I have a lot of thoughts. What we need is a house.”
The murmur that rippled through the room had a different tenor now. Ris gulped. You can barely get anyone to go for coffee. “A house . . .”
Just saying it out loud put the image in her head — a big, rambling country house, modified for their needs.
A dining room, a nursery. Classrooms, a space for workshops, a room for socialization.
Something sharper, the edge of a larger possibility looming over them, casting a shadow on the community center tables.
“The community center is perfect right now,” the dryad clarified.
“It’s free. It’s central. It’s open throughout the day and evening.
Again, I’ve been thinking about this for a long time.
But you’re the one who did it, so all the kudos to you for being brave enough to take the step for all of us.
The thing about community, though . . . it takes a village. ”
“Everyone wants a village until they have to be a villager,” she echoed Ainsley. “I agree. One person can’t do it all.”
“Right, exactly. So, we’ll get to the point where a governing body for management will be needed, but that doesn’t have to mean gatekeeping. And ultimately, what we’ll need is land. Come on, ladies. Time is on our side. We have the ability to make big plans.”
“Cevanore started with a house,” one of the elves in attendance supplied.
The elf in scrubs cleared her throat. “I also want to thank you for following through with organizing something like this . . . but I just want to be clear before I mentally invest myself. I do not want Cevanore. I’m burnt out from having to earn my way into a seat at the table.”
Ris met her eye across the room. “That’s the whole point of this.”
“Good. As long as it doesn’t become that, I’m in.”
“We need to do fundraising,” the dryad went on. “Data is kind of my specialty. I would love to put something together that gives us a clear timeline on what we can reasonably raise in a set amount of time and how much real estate that can buy us.”
The room was quiet. Well, shit. This just became real, Ris realized.
“Once we have a house, we can make this anything we want. Until then, the community center is perfect.”
She nodded, not knowing what else to do. It was startling to realize she wasn’t the only one in town circling an idea like this, and that others have been doing it longer, with much bigger plans.
“I’m a lawyer,” one of the sylvans offered. “It’s not my area of expertise, but I have a wide network. We can get the non-profit status set up.”
“I work in the office right here at the center,” another voice chimed in. “I can see what sort of continuing education options we might have to take advantage of.”
“Continuing education is such a great priority,” someone else added. “Too many of us are left floundering once our husbands die.”
“I work for the schools,” a nymph piped up. “I book all the special events, so I have the inside track to a lot of different organizations. I can put together a calendar to see what sort of talks we can put on the books?”
It was a struggle to keep her emotions in check as she nodded again, listening to them all pipe up, all so eager to be villagers in whatever way they could.
You know the way that works. They’re excited now.
But once they’re back to their daily lives, volunteering isn’t as important.
And that’s why we need more. This is real. This is fucking happening.
“And I work in HR,” Ris offered with a choked laugh.
“So I can be entrusted with everyone’s contact information, upholding a comprehensive policy on data privacy.
I think the most important thing we can each do at this point is spread the word.
Reach out to someone you know who might be interested in joining us.
Bring a plus one. We’re going to need a big village to make this work. ”
By the time the evening had wrapped up, they had set a calendar for the next three meets. Two more evenings and an afternoon, attempting to give everyone the opportunity to attend.
“Thank you for doing this.” The naiad had pointed teeth, like a serrated knife, grinning hugely as she made her way out the door. “I didn’t know how much I needed it until I got here.”
When the dryad approached her, once the attendees began to shuffle out, chairs neatly stacked and tables cleared, Ris steeled herself.
“I’m Caleia, by the way. Thank you for being brave enough to take the first step.”
Ris pushed her professional smile into place.
You’re a badass. You don’t need to be intimidated.
This is only coming together because of you.
“I’m very glad there’s someone else who’s already started thinking through the logistics.
I can’t even tell you how long it took me to take the plunge on this.
I normally can’t even get friends to meet for coffee. ”
“I’m so glad you did. Seriously. You have no idea how needed this was.
Well, you do, obviously. I’m sure a lot of us have been thinking it, but someone needed to break the ice.
I’ll shoot you an email this week with some of the files I’ve put together over the years.
” She grinned. “And I do have an in with event planning, actually. And a venue for special events we can’t do here.
I think we can make this into something really great. ”
When the room was empty, Ris turned. Only Lurielle and Dynah remained.
“I am so fucking proud of you,” Lurielle said, meeting her in a huge hug. “I know we’ve made noise about this over the years, but this actually feels real, and you did that.”
“I just miss you both so much,” Dynah yelped, throwing her arms around both of them in an awkward hug.
“What are you talking about? I’ll see you tomorrow!” Ris laughed, knowing exactly what Dynah meant. Their lives had all changed beyond recognition in just a few years.
She trembled the whole way to her car, adrenaline like gasoline through her veins. When she finally pulled her phone from her bag, she was unsurprised to see the line of texts from Ainsley, wincing when she realized she hadn’t texted him before things started.