Chapter 22 #2
“Come to think of it, I remember hearing some power tool noises when I was upstairs in my loft. I think it was that same day. I thought it was at your neighbor’s house since I’d noticed his lawn guy there using a weed eater.
” Windy bit her lip. “But now I’m sure it was her male visitor installing the lock.
Sorry, I should’ve paid more attention.”
“You don’t need to be sorry. It’s not your responsibility to keep tabs on Kitty. I know I should do better at handling this, but to be honest, it’s a bit overwhelming.” Riva’s voice cracked with emotion. “I really don’t know what to do about her.”
“Oh, Riva.” Laurel groaned. “I wish I’d never connected you to her in the first place. Maybe I should be the one to chuck her out.”
“Thanks. But no one is going to chuck her out.” Riva took a deep breath. “I have to do it myself. And I need to do it ethically and legally. I don’t want any negative recourse on her part.”
“She seems the type to do something nefarious.” Laurel grimly shook her head.
“Maybe that was her plan all along. Become such an obnoxious tenant that you want to kick her out, but you find out she’s got a sleazy lawyer on speed dial.
You wind up in court with some trumped-up charges and expensive court costs, and she winds up getting your house and you are out on your ear. ”
“Oh, Laurel,” Windy scolded. “That’s awful.”
“Just ignore me.” Laurel’s laugh sounded nervous. “I always enjoyed a good conspiracy theory.”
“Well, you better stop terrorizing our landlady,” Windy warned. “Or she’ll want to kick us all out.”
The idea of having her home all to herself again did have some appeal.
Except that Riva really did like her housemates.
For the most part, anyway. “You guys don’t need to worry about this .
. . or me. I’ll get it figured out somehow.
When the time is right and I can get her to talk to me. Hopefully sooner than later.”
“That’s fine, but I think you should get that lock off her door ASAP,” Laurel said.
“It feels unsafe to me. Like she could be harboring a fugitive in there. Or hard drugs. I remember an old Lifetime movie about a beauty salon that was really a cover for drug trafficking. Maybe that’s what Kitty is doing, selling dope instead of doing hair. ”
“Oh, Laurel, if that were true, Kitty would probably be loaded,” Windy said. “She’d be living in a mansion, not renting a cheap room.”
“I agree,” Riva said. “But the deadbolt is still concerning.”
“It’s like a flag, warning us that something is off,” Windy added.
“I’ll speak to Kitty.”
“It’s your door, Riva.” Laurel’s tone grew firmer. “You have the right to remove that lock if you want. You don’t need her permission.”
“I wouldn’t have a clue how to get it off.” Riva tried to look unconcerned as she sipped her now-cool coffee. “I mean, I do have tools, but aren’t those locks specially made to be difficult to remove?”
“I bet Marcus could get it off for us,” Laurel declared.
“Of course.” Windy held up her phone. “Want me to ask him?”
“No,” Riva said. “Not yet. I’d appreciate his help later, but I do want to talk to Kitty first. I’d like to ask her why she felt the need and why she didn’t get permission. And if she’s willing to let me have a key, I might overlook it.”
“I bet she won’t give you a key.” Laurel folded her arms in front of her.
“Then I’ll inform her that I’ll deal with it and Windy can ask Marcus to help.”
“That should be interesting.” Windy looked at her phone. “Maybe we should have Marcus here when you talk to Kitty. Kinda like a safety net. He can be the backup so that if you ask for a key and she refuses, then Marcus can just remove the lock.”
“Maybe.” Riva did like the idea of Marcus helping and yet .
. . “That brings up another topic I’ve been noodling on lately.
Well, since our last dinner party”—she glanced at Laurel—“Windy and I already kicked this around a little that night, but I’ve decided that we need a moratorium on male guests here at the house. I think it’s just too stressful.”
“Because of Kitty?” Laurel’s brow creased. “That seems unfair.”
“It’s just a temporary moratorium,” Windy explained. “And I agree with Riva. It gets too messy with a mixed group when, you know, some feelings get hurt. It’s just not worth it. I’m supportive of boycotting the boys, for the time being anyway.”
“I suppose you think I’m part of the problem,” Laurel snapped.
“I never said that.” Windy held up her hands defensively.
“But that’s what you meant, wasn’t it?” Laurel stood and dumped the last of her coffee in a potted fern. “You think I’m jealous of anyone who shows interest in your brother.”
“Or anyone he shows interest in,” Windy countered in a strong voice. “Okay, maybe I do think you’re jealous, Laurel, but you have to admit you’ve been a little unreasonable.”
Laurel planted her hands on her hips. “It’s only because I thought Marcus liked me.”
“He does like you,” Windy argued. Now she stood and Riva suddenly wondered if this was going to turn into another kind of fight.
Instead of staring, Riva decided to step aside and check on the raised veggie bed near the fence.
Her friends’ raised voices only seemed to prove that it really was time to close the door on male visitors of any kind. Even brothers.
“I mean, I thought he really liked me,” Laurel said.
“I’ve been alone all these years, Windy.
I survived a trainwreck of a marriage and a miserable divorce.
And I just never had a nice guy like Marcus pay attention to me.
Not once in all these years. In fact, I’ve been told that I scare men off.
So can you blame me for getting my nose out of joint when Riva stole his attention from me? ”
“She didn’t steal his attention.” Windy came over to stand protectively by Riva. “The fact you just said that proves our point. You’re not being yourself, Laurel. Not when it comes to men, anyway.”
“Okay, stealing was a strong word,” Laurel admitted. “But Riva knew I was hoping for something to develop with Marcus yet she kept stepping in and interfering.”
Riva bent down to pull a weed, determined to calm her tone before answering her aggravating friend.
Then she stood up straight and looked directly at her.
“My only interest in Marcus is plain ordinary friendship. And Marcus is well aware of it. In fact, we agreed that’s what we both want.
To be friends. That’s all. So if you and Marcus fall in love and get married, I’ll be pleased as punch, Laurel.
Good grief, I’ll even dance at your wedding. ” She attempted a lighthearted laugh.
Laurel’s brows arched. “Fine. I’ll hold you to it. Just as long as you’re not dancing with the groom.” Her smile looked a little fake. “Excuse me, girls. Fred is waiting for his breakfast.” She went inside.
“Speaking of the groom.” Windy nudged Riva with her elbow, pointing over the side fence. “Look who’s pulling into the driveway. And guess who’s with him?”
Riva peered over the fence and her jaw dropped. “It’s Kitty,” she whispered, moving away from the fence. “Let’s not get caught spying on them.”
“Why is she with Marcus?” Windy stayed put, blatantly staring over the fence. “Or maybe I should ask why is he with her?”
“Come away from there. You remind me of Gladys Kravitz.” Riva tugged Windy by the hand. “I’m going inside.”
Windy followed. “So maybe this is good timing.” She paused in the kitchen. “You can confront Kitty and then we’ll ask Marcus to help you get that lock off.”
Riva held up her hands, palms forward. “Okay, let’s put the brakes on that. I want it handled carefully. I need to speak to Kitty first. Privately.”
“I know, I know,” Windy said quickly. “You talk to Kitty, and I’ll keep Marcus occupied until you need him to get that lock off.”
“I don’t know if you should talk to Marcus about—”
“No, it’s a good plan,” Windy interrupted. “Come now, dear sweet landlady, time to put on your big-girl pants and just get ’er done.” She slapped Riva on the back. “You’ll be glad you did. I’ll go catch Marcus before he has a chance to leave.”
Riva went out to the foyer, bracing herself to meet Kitty as she entered the house.
She had never been good at confrontations, but she felt this one was necessary.
And Windy was probably right. It did seem an opportune moment to resolve this lock mess.
So as Windy went out to talk to her brother, Riva waited by the stairway and silently prayed for wisdom . . . and for God’s divine direction.