Chapter 20 #2
Finally, she found the fan behind a stack of tires.
She dusted it off, then set it up near the picnic table in back.
Then, remembering how Paul used to water everything down, including the pavers, to cool things off on evenings like this, she decided to do the same.
As she turned on the hose, she thought of Paul and how he would approve.
How he’d be happy to see her out here enjoying the yard again. Like maybe she was coming back to life.
Feeling grimy and rumpled by the heat, Riva took a quick shower, then pulled out a lightweight dress she hadn’t worn in ages.
She held it up in front of the mirror and frowned.
Was it too youthful? Was the Hawaiian print too bright?
Or was she just being overly cautious? Remembering her energy today after drumming, she decided it was time to embrace another challenge.
She slipped into the dress, enjoying the cool feel of cotton.
In fact, the dress itself made her feel happy.
It represented good carefree times in past summers.
Perhaps it was just what she needed tonight.
Because she was determined to have a good time.
She could hear voices in the house as she left her room. Marcus and Windy and a tall gray-haired man were visiting in the foyer. “There she is now.” Windy waved Riva over. “Come meet Marcus’s friend Wes Walker. Wes, this is Riva.”
“Pleasure to meet you, Riva.” With a wide smile on his face, Wes shook her hand. “I was just telling Windy this is a gorgeous old house. Amazing woodwork. I’m guessing it was built in the late 1800s?”
“1898,” she told him.
“Wes’s an architect,” Windy supplied, leading them toward the kitchen.
“Retired architect,” he said. “But I can still admire a work of art like this.”
“I’ve never heard it called that, but I don’t disagree.” Riva watched as Marcus put a bottle of white wine in her fridge. It was kind of cute the way he already knew his way around her house.
Windy stood in front of the French doors leading to the patio. “It’s still pretty warm out there, but we’ve got ice and drinks set up, and Riva has a fan running to create a breeze.”
“No problem for me,” Wes told her. “I like a warm evening.” He opened the door, waiting for Riva to pass through. “What an inviting backyard.”
“We’ve all been working on it. I sort of let things go after my husband passed. Windy is our landscape director. She’s got a real green thumb.”
“My sister is quite a gal,” Marcus told Wes. “She gardens and cooks and even volunteers at the Hummingbird Gallery.”
“You’re an artist?” Wes asked Windy.
She shrugged as she filled a glass with ice water. “I’m more of a dabbler.”
“Me too.” Riva told them about rediscovering her old art supplies today. “Maybe we should dabble together, Windy.”
“I’d love that.” Windy filled another water glass, handing each of the men one. “We should stay hydrated,” she told them.
“What mediums do you ladies dabble in?” Wes asked.
“Watercolors.” Windy handed Riva a water glass. “Particularly flowers and plant life.”
“Watercolors are too challenging for me,” Riva admitted as they took seats near the fan.
“Maybe I’m just too much of a control freak.
I prefer acrylic for painting. I think I’ll start with pencil sketching when I get started up again.
Maybe work up into pen and ink.” She glanced at Wes.
“I’m not an architect by any means, but I always enjoyed drawing interesting structures like bridges and old houses and beach town shanties.
I’ve always wanted to draw this house in pen and ink. ”
“You should do that,” Wes encouraged. “There’s so much detail to capture. Gingerbread and roof angles and leaded windows . . . it’d make a good subject.”
They visited for a while, until Windy said she needed to get things ready in the kitchen.
“Need help?” Riva offered.
“Nah. It’s mostly all done, and Fiona already offered to do KP.” Windy looked at her brother. “Can you fire up the grill for me?”
“You got it.” He stood.
While Marcus fiddled with the grill, Wes and Riva chatted. He was an interesting guy, but he also seemed interested in her. He was just asking about her children when Laurel came out. She glanced all around, as if looking for something . . . or, more likely, someone.
“It’s just the three of us out here,” Riva called out. “Come join us. Get yourself a glass of water. Windy wants to be sure we stay hydrated.”
While Laurel assisted Marcus with the grill, Wes asked Riva another question. “How long have you lived in this beautiful house?”
“It’s been in the family since my grandparents bought it,” she explained, “but I’ve pretty much lived here my whole life.
My parents moved in to help with my grandmother after Grandpa died.
I was only three. Then I wasn’t here during college and my first few years of marriage, but then my parents moved to Arizona and Paul and I moved in here. ”
“Did you tell him how your fear of getting rid of books kept you here?” Laurel called out in a slightly teasing tone.
“What?” Wes looked puzzled.
“My library,” Riva explained. “My grandfather and father were both attorneys, like my late husband, and the book collection in the library is, uh, quite large. Partly due to them and partly because I’m a bookaholic.
The idea of selling my home and the chore of packing or selling all those books—or burning them like my daughter suggested—was a little disturbing.
It sounds silly, but it’s one reason I decided to take in renters .
. . so I could remain in my home and handle the expenses. ”
Laurel came over to sit by Riva. “I just hope that you’re not regretting having your renters here.”
“Yeah, I’m curious how things went last night.” Marcus sat down too.
“What was last night?” Wes asked.
“A squabble between housemates.” Riva glanced at Laurel. “But maybe you don’t want to talk about it.”
Laurel shrugged. “Where is she, anyway?”
“She who?” Wes asked.
“Our housemate who’s been a little difficult,” Riva told him. “I guess I should warn you in case she shows up.”
“Is she coming tonight?”
“No one seems to know.”
Laurel groaned. “Well, if she comes and opens her bag of tricks, I will perform a vanishing act.”
“What does this woman do that’s so bad?” Wes asked with curiosity.
Riva grimaced. “It’s hard to describe.”
“Let’s just say Kitty is used to getting her own way,” Marcus told him. “And if she’s had too much to drink, like she did last night, well, she can get even pushier.”
“That’s putting it mildly.” Laurel frowned. “She likes to be the center of attention. Particularly with eligible males. Or maybe it doesn’t matter if they’re eligible or not.”
“Fair warning,” Marcus said in a somber tone, “if she shows up, I’ll be trying to distance myself from her tonight.”
“You and me both,” Laurel added.
Windy and Fiona came out with food to put on the grill, followed by a couple of men Riva recognized from Fiona’s band last night. Introductions were made and Riva complimented them on their musical skills. She turned to Wes. “I hope you can hear them sometime. They’re so talented.”
“Fiona hinted that we might need to sing for our supper,” a man named Brad told her. “And we just so happened to bring our instruments, so if you want a little merrymaking after dinner, just ask.”
“I’ll ask right now,” Riva told him. “That’d be wonderful.”
When the seafood was grilled and Kitty still hadn’t shown up, Windy suggested they eat without her, and soon the eight of them were seated at the table.
Interestingly enough, they alternated genders all the way around.
So much for Marcus’s “harem.” Riva had Wes on one side of her and Brad on the other, and to her surprise, she felt relaxed and at ease.
Nothing like the last time they’d gathered out here.
Perhaps she really was making progress, one baby step at a time.