Chapter 13
Although Riva felt better in the morning, she still felt a little off-balance.
It was barely six, and the house sounded quiet when she tiptoed out.
As she walked through her house, everything appeared to be in order, including her kitchen.
It was all spotless, and suddenly it felt a little surreal.
Like last night never happened, or maybe it was that life had gone on without her. Like maybe she hadn’t even been missed.
She quietly made coffee, then carried a steaming mug outside to see if everything was in order out there as well.
It all appeared tidy and picked up. Even the tables had been wiped down.
Well, at least she had responsible housemates.
Hopefully they weren’t too offended by her mysterious absence.
Or perhaps they were having so much fun, they really didn’t miss her.
“Good morning.” Riva startled to see Windy, wearing a floral nightgown, coming outside with a coffee mug. “Do you want to be alone?”
“No, not at all.” Riva set down her mug and moved a lounge chair to catch the morning sunshine. “Pull up a seat if you’d like.”
After they were both situated in the sun, Riva mentioned how clean everything was—even the yard.
“Well, I suspected you weren’t feeling too well last night, so I wanted to be sure it was all cleaned up before morning.”
“Thank you.”
“It was my pleasure. Really.” Windy sighed. “It’s so lovely being in a home like this. I can’t thank you enough for letting me rent your attic.”
“You’re still happy up there?”
“It’s like a slice of heaven.”
Riva frowned. “I was thinking a lot about heaven last night. To be honest, I don’t know what to expect when we get there.”
“But you do believe you’ll get there?”
“God willing and the creek don’t rise.” Riva attempted a smile. “Yes, I do believe I’ll get there. Last night I hoped it would be sooner rather than later.” She looked intently at Windy. “You told me a bit about losing your husband. I’m sorry. I forgot his name.”
“Bill.”
“Yes. And I know it was a traumatic death with the car wreck and all. Can you remind me how long since he died, Windy?”
“Almost seven years.”
“Please tell me, it does get better, right?”
“Of course. But it takes time. And it’s different with everyone.
” Windy sipped her coffee. “My first year was a nightmare. I cried all the time. And then dealing with everything, selling off the real estate business, paying overdue taxes, dealing with lawyers . . . It was all so exhausting. I felt like I was barely keeping my head above water and then I found out about all the debt Bill had never told me about. I lost the house and my daughter moved across the country—so, well, my second year wasn’t much better. ”
“Oh, my. I’m so sorry. I probably shouldn’t have even asked.”
“I don’t mind.” She brightened. “I’m so much better now. After I lost everything, it turned out to be the best thing ever.”
“Seriously?”
“Yes. I felt so free. Oh, I admit living in that awful apartment wasn’t so great.
I missed my house and my garden. But I was determined to move on.
I returned to my hippie roots and shopped thrift stores and bought houseplants and tried to fix up the apartment.
It was okay at first. I got hired part-time in the Hummingbird Gallery, which was wonderfully therapeutic. ”
“I didn’t know you worked there. I love that gallery.”
“I quit after Bill’s social security kicked in for me.
I wasn’t quite so destitute, but I still volunteer there sometimes just for the fun of it.
Having those monthly checks gives me a bit more freedom.
Of course, I still dream my ship will come in and the lawsuit about the accident will pay off, but the insurance company keeps going back into appeals and God only knows how much my lawyers will take if it ever gets settled.
And I’m okay with that.” She smiled. “I really am.”
“How long did it take until you felt really happy again? I mean, you seem to be genuinely happy now.” Riva felt almost envious.
“For the most part, I am happy, but I still miss Bill at times. Usually it’s when I’m alone in the middle of the night, or if I hear a certain song.
In those moments, it’s not painful like it used to be.
It just brings forth an old longing, more like nostalgia than grief.
Bill wasn’t perfect by any means, but he did love me, he was a good father, and he tried to be a good provider.
I just wish he hadn’t overextended his investments.
” She sipped her coffee. “But on the other hand, if he’d been better with money and I still had my house, well, I wouldn’t feel as free as I do now.
” She grimaced. “I hope I didn’t overshare. I’ve been told I do that sometimes.”
“Not at all. It was good to hear. Kind of like being in a mini grief group.”
“So, was that what happened to you last night?”
Since Windy had been so forthcoming, Riva shared about her own dark night of the soul.
“I had a good cry and actually feel pretty good today. Although I don’t really feel happy.
I think what caught me most by surprise was the anger.
That’s a stage of grief that I missed . .
. or skipped. But it sure did hit me last night.
I got so mad at myself—and at life in general—because I couldn’t enjoy the party. ”
“I remember feeling like that.” Windy told Riva about a time when she’d been invited to meet friends at the coast. “Bev and Larry had rented a beach cottage. I hadn’t been over there since before losing Bill, but it had been almost two years by then and I thought I was okay.
Well, something triggered me, maybe it was seeing Bev and Larry together, or thinking how Bill had loved the ocean, I’m not sure.
But I fell apart and ended up leaving my friends a note and driving back home in the middle of the night. ”
Riva felt both comforted and worried. “I wonder how long it’ll take to get past this . . .”
“Past what?”
They both jumped to see Kitty had slipped out there unnoticed. Dressed in striped pajama shorts and a pink T-shirt, she looked rumpled but pretty.
“Good morning, girls,” she said cheerfully. “Am I interrupting?”
“Not at all. We’re just swapping sob stories.” Riva tried to sound light.
“Sob stories?” Kitty pulled a chair over and sat down with a curious expression. “Sounds depressing.”
“Riva had a rough time last night,” Windy explained. “Her husband has been gone just over a year.”
“Almost eighteen months,” Riva supplied.
“That’s why you left the party?” Kitty’s brow creased as she slid an emery board out of her T-shirt pocket. “That seems silly.”
“I know it sounds silly, but something just got to me and I guess I needed some alone time.” Riva didn’t really want to go into it again. Not with Kitty, anyway. She didn’t get a safe sense of empathy from the woman. Maybe she just needed to know her better.
“Oh, I get that.” Kitty frowned at a perfectly manicured thumbnail. “When I lost my Danny, I was a hot mess. I cried for weeks.”
“Was Danny your husband?”
“Yes, my first husband. The second husband was the jerk.”
“And Danny passed?” Windy put a hand on Kitty’s shoulder. “I’m sorry. How long has it been?”
“Oh, Danny didn’t die. We just split up.
But that was after I gave him almost twenty of my best years.
Later on, when I considered going back, he’d already taken up with a twentysomething bimbo who only wanted a sugar daddy.
She didn’t even stay with him for a year.
I think it’s because he was drinking like a fish by then. But I was glad about that.”
Riva was confused. “Glad that he was drinking?”
“No. Glad that the bimbo left him high and dry.” Kitty began to smooth out the edge of another hot-pink nail.
“Oh?” Windy glanced at Riva.
“Our breakup was probably for the best anyway,” Kitty said lightly.
“Of course, I didn’t think so at first. After all, Danny came from a wealthy family.
And it was nice not having to go to work or worry about money.
Fortunately, my divorce settlement was enough to buy my salon and set me up.
And it allowed me to have some fun.” She checked her nail, then filed a bit more.
“How long ago did you and Danny break up?” Riva asked.
“It’s been close to ten years now. About the same as Laurel. She and I were comparing notes last night. We have a similar story.” She laughed. “Well, similar but different. Laurel’s divorce settlement was pathetic. I don’t know how she even got by.”
Riva bristled. “Laurel’s had a hard go of it.”
“You can tell just by looking at her.” Kitty nodded knowingly. “A drab woman like that who’s let herself go . . . even when she comes into my salon, she always insists on just a haircut, nothing else. I keep trying to talk her into highlights and layering, but she just laughs. Poor thing.”
“Laurel isn’t one to fuss over her appearance,” Windy said, clearly defensive of her friend.
“Obviously.” Kitty set down the emery board. “Good grief, her face alone speaks volumes on that.”
“Her face?” Riva studied Kitty more closely. She’d been trying to calculate the woman’s age. Based on the information they’d just been given, Kitty wasn’t much younger, but her blond mane was thick and her flawless skin looked so youthful, it was hard to tell.
“Not only her face,” Kitty clarified, “her drab hair, pudgy figure, boring clothing. Well, it all tells me this is a woman who’s pretty much given up on life.”
“Oh, I don’t think that she’s given up on life,” Riva said. “Whatever happened to growing old gracefully?”
“I guess that’s okay if you want to look like Grandma and live alone with your cat. But it’s not for me.”
“I think you’re being a little hard on Laurel.” Riva worked to control her tone. “There’s a lot more to her than that.”