She considered this. “Well, that kinda makes sense. But I don’t recall feeling like that, resenting my housemates. Not on that particular evening, at least. I’d been having a good time.” She picked up her water. “Come to think of it, that might’ve been the problem. I felt guilty for having fun. Like my life was supposed to be over with. Like after Paul died, I should’ve been buried with him.
“I think I was frustrated because it felt wrong to enjoy myself,” she added. “I felt guilty. Like I was a dead person, and dead people shouldn’t have fun. And that made me mad and disgusted at myself for being such a pathetic mess. I suppose that made me feel just plain angry.” She pounded a fist on the table for emphasis. “It felt terrible.”
“That makes total sense. So how are you feeling right now? Are you feeling guilty for enjoying yourself? Does that make you angry? I don’t know about you, but I’m having a good time right now.” His eyes twinkled. “I’m enjoying your company, Riva, and I don’t feel angry or guilty.”
“Thanks. And in honest answer to your question, I’m not quite sure how I feel. Not guilty exactly ... maybe a little uneasy. But I have enjoyed your company, Marcus. Even exchanging sob storieshas been encouraging. It’s good to know I’m not alone. I suppose that’s why I went to the grief group. Even if we did end up playing hooky.”
“I think we had our own support group. I know I feel better. I hope you do too.”
She smiled. Sincerely this time. “I do feel better. I appreciate your insight and how you’re further down the grief trail than I am. Your journey was definitely different and, honestly, it sounds like it was a lot harder. But seeing you’re past it, or nearly there, is encouraging.” She paused as Fiona returned to the table.
“Anything else for you two?” she asked brightly.
After they declined, she handed them both a flyer. “This is the new schedule for our band.” She pointed to the first gig. “We’re playing at The Brewery Friday night—that’s tomorrow. In case you’re interested. It’s our first time playing there. It’s a grand venue, but they cater to a crowd that’s a bit younger and rowdier.” Her expression suddenly looked concerned. “The owner there is fretting we won’t pull in enough traffic so I’m begging everyone I know to come and show support.”
“I’d love to come,” Marcus told her.
“And you, Riva?” Fiona looked hopeful.
“I, uh, I don’t know.”
“Afraid to get out and have some fun?” Marcus teased.
She sat up straighter, feeling slightly defensive. “As a matter of fact, I’m ready to have some fun.” She nodded at Fiona. “Count me in.”
“Brilliant.” Fiona beamed. “I’ll save a table right in front for you two.”
As Fiona returned to the counter, Riva was already questioning herself. Going out on Friday night was way out of her wheelhouse. Did this mean she and Marcus were going there together? Like on a date? Because that wouldn’t fly with Laurel ... or Kitty. Maybe it was best to pull the plug before it turned into a feud among friends.
“Are you okay?” Marcus peered at her curiously. “You look troubled.”
“Maybe a little.”
“Don’t you think you deserve an evening out, listening to good music with good company?” His eyes twinkled.
She studied him. Did he think this was going to be a date or was he just teasing her? She was probably overthinking this whole silly thing. “That’s not it,” she began slowly, trying to think of a graceful way out of what could be an awkward mess. “It’s just that Fiona said she was beggingeveryoneto go. That makes me think my housemates will all be there too...”
“Is that a problem?” he asked.
She shrugged, hoping to appear nonchalant. “I hope not.” But underneath her calm veneer was worry. She wasn’t sure how she’d react if Laurel or Kitty got worked up over seeing her with Marcus. “It’s just that I wouldn’t want them to think we were, uh, on a date.”
“Don’t worry. It won’t be a date,” he assured her. “Just a couple friends going out to hear some music. And if your housemates come along, we’ll all just be there in support of Fiona and her band. Right?”
“Of course. You’re right.” She forced a smile, trying to feel reassured that she and Marcus were on the same page. Although the whole idea still made her uneasy. She knew that Laurel could read anything she wanted into this. Not to mention Kitty. But maybe it didn’t matter. Maybe Riva just needed to lighten up.
Chapter16
Although Marcus offered to drive her home, Riva wanted to walk. She told him she needed some time to clear her head, but mostly she didn’t want Laurel to witness Marcus dropping her off. Oh, she knew it was juvenile to worry about something so small, but she just didn’t want to create any more stress within her precarious household. As she walked up to the house, she was glad to be alone because Laurel was in the front yard with a hoe. And to Riva’s surprise, Laurel had a half full bucket of weeds and crabgrass, and the bed alongside the front porch looked much better.
“Laurel,” Riva exclaimed, “I’m surprised to see you out here. You told me you hate yard work. This looks great.”
“I thought I did. But that day in the backyard helped me see that it’s not so bad. And it’s good exercise. Plus, Windy asked me to help. Since she’s probably doing more than her fair share of cooking, it only seemed fair.” She stood up straight, using a foot to scoot the bucket of debris. “This time of day, with the shade, it’s not too hot. But progress is kinda slow going.”
“Well, I appreciate the effort. I’m going to put on some shorts then come back out to help you. Can I bring you out something to drink? Water? Soda? Tea?”
“I’d love water. Thanks.”
After changing, Riva went to get some water to take outside and found Windy in the kitchen, chopping veggies. “Whatcha making?” she asked. “It’s very colorful.”
