“Yeah, they don’t have people overnight but still offer meals and clothing and a few other things. Anyway, that’s why I’m usually busy on Tuesdays.”
“That’s so cool. I would love to help you sometime.”
“I will definitely take you up on that offer. So anyway, I had spent the evening there and was getting ready to go home, but I stopped to help this woman who’d been staying there for a couple of weeks. The first time I met Mrs. Marshall, I assumed she’d come to volunteer, but it turned out she was houseless. As I was leaving, I saw her outside the facility. We talked a bit, and she seemed lost and confused and didn’t think she belonged in the shelter. By then I knew she had no family and had lost her husband’s pension and later her house. Other than her monthly social security stipend, she was broke.”
“That’s sad.”
Windy nodded. “So I helped her back inside and got her into the sleeping area where someone else helped her get ready for bed, but as I walked home, I got to feeling like that woman was me. You know, in about ten, maybe twenty years. And I kept obsessing about this all night. Really, other than a few years, what made me any different from Mrs. Marshall?”
“What makes any of us any different?”
“Friends? Family?” Windy shrugged. “But that night, I felt so alone ... I just couldn’t imagine what the rest of my life was going to be like. It seemed so bleak and dark and hopeless.”
Riva sighed. “That’s so sad.”
“The next morning, I was pretty down, but as I did my morning devotions, I remembered it was grief group day, so despite my gloomy perspective, I forced myself to go. And that’s the same day I met you.”
“You were feeling gloomy that day?” Riva blinked. “I thought you looked so bright and cheerful. You were dressed so colorfully, and your smile was so warm.”
“Because I’ve learned that helping others always makes me feel better.” Windy’s eyes looked misty. “The hardest part of this story is that I learned Mrs. Marshall died that night.”
Riva let out a gasp. “I’m so sorry.”
“I never told anyone about that whole thing, not even my brother. But it made me determined to move in here, determined to make the most of the years I have left. So even dealing with someone like Kitty, and I’ll admit she gets on my nerves, doesn’t feel as daunting as it might’ve.”
Riva set down the water glasses and hugged Windy. “Thanks for sharing that with me. It makes me even more glad I went to the grief group that day.”
“Speaking of grief group, how did that go today?”
“Oh, my ... that’s a story for a different time.” Riva picked up the water glasses. “I should probably get this out to Laurel. Don’t want her to faint from thirst.”
“Dehydration can be dangerous.” Windy nodded. “But I’ll hold you to telling me your story later.”
Riva agreed, then went outside. She found Laurel sitting on the porch, fanning herself with a garden glove. “What took you so long?”
Riva handed her a water. “Sorry. I was talking to Windy.”
“Thanks.” Laurel took a long sip, then ran the cool glass across a flushed cheek. “Despite the shade, it’s getting awfully warm out here. I needed a break.”
“Maybe it’s quitting time.” Riva sat down next to her.
“Perhaps. What were you and Windy talking about?” Laurel asked.
“Nothing much.”
“Or maybe it’s none of my business.” Laurel looked down with a sad expression. “It’s hard to know boundaries, you know, with five women sharing a home. I’m still getting my bearings. I don’t want to push my nose in where it doesn’t belong. From what I’ve heard, I have a knack for that.”
“Who said that?”
“Well, Kitty for starters. But I think I’ve offended Windy and Fiona with my charts. Just last night, before going to bed, I overheard Kitty telling Fiona that I was a dictator.”
Riva shook her head. “Helping us be organized is not dictatorship.”
“I don’t know. I think I need to back off some. I know I’ve always been a bossy, outspoken, independent woman, but I think it was easier to wear that cloak when I was younger. Lately, I’ve been questioning myself. I don’t want to become a grumpy old curmudgeon. Besides being miserable, it’s not terribly feminine.”
Riva frowned. “Feminine?”
“I know that sounds strange coming from me. But lately I’ve wondered ... do I really want to spend the last part of my life alone?”
