Chapter 8
The next morning, Riva got up extra early to finish cleaning up the dinner things from the night before.
As she loaded the dishwasher, she felt happy to remember how they’d all enjoyed such a fun evening.
It had been good to see friends gathered in her dining room once again, everyone enjoying the meal and companionship.
After dinner, they’d all lingered at the table, having coffee and chocolate truffles that Windy had shared for dessert.
But by the time they’d started to clean up, they were all worn out, and Riva suggested the mess could wait until morning.
She finished scrubbing the last pan as Laurel strolled in wearing plaid pajamas and a sleepy smile. “Good morning,” she said, reaching for a coffee mug.
“Coffee should be ready soon.” Riva set the pan aside.
Laurel sat at the island. “You’re an early bird today.”
“I felt extra energetic and decided to get a jump on the kitchen.” Riva turned the dishwasher on.
“Last night was perfectly lovely,” Laurel said happily. “Thanks for putting it together, sweetie. I’d hoped to get down here and clean up the mess before you woke, but you beat me to it.”
Riva feigned disappointment. “Shoot, I should’ve slept longer.”
“Ha ha.” Laurel smirked. “Anyway, this reminds me of an idea I had yesterday. I think we should create a chore roster to post on the fridge.”
“A chore roster?” Riva wasn’t sure she liked the idea of keeping tabs on grown-ups. “Do we get gold stars if we do our chores right?” she teased.
“Make fun, but a roster can prevent serious misunderstandings. I used to maintain one at the grade school where I worked. It was the only way to ensure that someone besides me cleaned up the breakroom. You’d be surprised how lazy a bunch of teachers can be at the end of the day.”
“Well, I suppose if you want to manage the roster, I won’t complain.” Riva gave the countertop around the stove a good swipe.
“Windy liked the idea. And if you get more tenants, I think you’ll appreciate it too.”
“Speaking of tenants, I met an interesting woman yesterday. She’s looking for housing too.” Riva got the flyer she’d attached to the fridge and showed it to Laurel. “That’s her with silver hair. Her name is Fiona.”
“A musician?”
“Yes. She seemed nice, and I gave her my number.”
“I gave Kitty your number too.”
“Yeah. Kitty already called. We scheduled a meeting for tomorrow morning.”
“I’ll warn you, Kitty is a real talker. I guess you have to be when you do hair, you know, to keep your clients entertained.
So don’t be overwhelmed if she goes on and on.
To be honest, it’ll be mostly about herself.
” She chuckled. “She enjoys dramatizing a bit, but it does pass the time while getting your hair done.”
“Okay.” Riva considered this. Having a chatterbox in her home didn’t sound too good. “Hopefully Kitty knows how to be quiet too.”
“Oh, I’m sure she does. She’s been through a lot with her ex. I don’t know her socially, but she’s been cutting my hair for years, and she seems like a good person.”
“You think she’ll fit in with us here?”
Laurel shrugged. “It’s hard to know. My guess is she’s a bit younger than we are, but her hair and makeup are, well, rather youthful, so it’s hard to tell . . . After hearing her conversations, I’m guessing she’s close to sixty. Although I suppose she could pass for being in her forties.”
“Lucky her.”
Laurel pointed at Riva. “Well, you don’t have anything to complain about. You still could pass for forties.”
“It’s the dark hair.” Riva brought over the coffee pot and filled their mugs. “But the gray is on its way. I see new strands daily.”
“My grays came with my divorce. A parting gift from dear Reggie.”
“You wear them well.” Riva sipped her coffee.
“Marcus told me he likes seeing women with naturally gray hair.”
Riva raised her brows. “Oh?”
“He said it’s a sign of maturity to allow yourself to go gray.” Her smile was wistful. “I guess I’m more mature than I realized. But it’s nice to be appreciated for it.”
Riva studied her friend. “You really like Marcus, don’t you?”
“He’s a good guy.” Laurel’s pale blue eyes lit up. “I mean, I don’t know him that well, but based on what I’ve seen and what Windy has told me, he’s a genuinely good person. It’s been a while since I could say that about any man.”
“Well, I can understand why you’ve been skittish about men after the way things turned out with Reggie.”
Laurel set down her mug with a frown. “You really think I’ve been skittish?”
Maybe that was the wrong word. “Well, hesitant, apprehensive, tentative . . . ?”
Laurel slowly nodded. “You’re probably right, but I don’t feel like that now.”
“Good for you.” Riva glanced at her pajamas and slippers. “I need to go to the nursery this morning. A bunch of plants are waiting for me. Guess I should get myself dressed.”
“Need any help?”
Riva didn’t know how to answer. The truth was she didn’t need Laurel’s help since Marcus was giving her a ride.
It wasn’t that she didn’t want Laurel to know, but she wasn’t sure how her friend would react.
Hopefully she wouldn’t see Riva as competition.
“Nah, I think I’ve got it. But thanks.” She refilled her mug and left to get dressed.
Since she planned to get dirty, Riva decided on old jeans and a T-shirt today.
After all, she wasn’t trying to impress anyone.
Including Marcus. She pulled her hair into a messy pony, then tugged the tail through an old ball cap that once belonged to Paul.
She was just buckling up some sandals when she heard a tapping on her door.
Laurel poked her head in. “Were you expecting Marcus this morning?”
“Yes. But he’s early.”
Laurel’s brow furrowed. “Early for what?”
“Oh, he just offered his pickup to help me get my plants.”
“Oh, right.” Laurel moved out of the way with a worried expression. “He’s waiting in the library.”
“Thanks.” Riva smiled at Laurel. “Don’t worry, sweetie, this is just a friend helping a friend. Nothing more.”
“Right . . .” But Laurel didn’t look convinced.
“Maybe you can help me when we get back?” Riva pocketed her phone. “I plan to pot a lot of plants in the yard this afternoon.”
“Well, I don’t have much of a green thumb. Maybe Windy will want to help.” Laurel held up a can of cat food. “Feeding time for Fred.”
For some reason, Riva felt apologetic to Laurel.
Was it only because Marcus was helping her pick up plants?
That seemed childish. But having housemates might be similar to having siblings.
Not that she ever had any. She knew that conflicts could arise when people lived under the same roof. Hopefully she could handle this.
“Ready to go?” Marcus asked as she joined him in the library.
“I am.”
“Sorry to be early.”
“No problem.” She led the way outside. When they got into his pickup, he started the engine, then pulled out his phone. “Maybe we should make sure the nursery is open this early.”
“Good idea.” She waited as he typed in the address.
“Uh-oh. They don’t open until ten.” His mouth twisted to one side. “I haven’t had any breakfast yet. How about you?”
“Just coffee.”
“I know a great breakfast spot”—he put the truck in gear—“if you’re game.”
“As long as it can be my treat,” she said. “To thank you for your help.”
“You won’t get any argument from me.”
“I like your truck,” she said as he drove down her hill. But even as she said this, she wondered why being in his pickup made her uncomfortable. Was it because it was so similar to Paul’s? Like somehow she was being unfaithful?
“Thanks. I like it too. I have an electric car too, but this old beast is more fun.”
“I can see it’s a Ford, but what year?”
“It’s a ’64.”
“Did you restore it yourself?”
“Yes. I thought it was just a hobby when I got it, but it turned into serious therapy after Anne passed. Guess it kept me off the streets and out of trouble.”
“Right.” Still feeling uneasy, she glanced out her window and suddenly wished she’d turned down his offer to help today. She could’ve gotten the plants by herself. What if this seemed like a date? And what if Laurel was hurt by it? And why was she making a mountain out of a molehill?
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“Huh?”
“You seem a little distracted today. Having any regrets about taking in your housemates?”
“Oh . . .” She considered this. “Maybe a little. I mean, I really like them and all. But I guess I’m realizing how different personalities living under the same roof could get, well, dicey. And I suppose I’ve gotten used to being alone.”
“It’ll probably be an adjustment, but the companionship might be worth it.”
“I did enjoy our evening last night,” she admitted. “I’m probably just overthinking things. I do that sometimes. More so after losing Paul.”
“Sometimes it helps to talk things out.”
“That’s something I really miss. Paul and I used to talk things out. But being alone now, well, the decisions and changes and aging and life . . . it can get overwhelming.”
“I know. I feel the same way sometimes.”
“Overwhelmed?”
“Not exactly. Anne’s been gone a long time, so I’ve had time to adjust. But I still feel like I need someone to talk to, someone I can run things past and make plans with.
Like a few years ago, when I was deciding whether to retire from teaching or not, I remember wishing Anne could give her opinion. ”
“But you did choose to retire.”
“Yes. And I actually felt Anne would approve. Early in our marriage, she always wanted me to work less and live more. She wanted me to consider early retirement, but I never felt ready. When I finally did retire, I didn’t know what to do with my spare time.”
“Besides helping your sister move or restoring old pickups?”