“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 determinedto 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. Igot 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?”
