“You’re not alone.” Riva touched her arm. “You have friends.”
“Thank God. But you know, Riva, some women our age get married...”
“Yes, of course.” Riva didn’t know what to say. Laurel was obviously thinking about Marcus, dreaming of something more than just female friends.
“But I suspect that most men our age are not seeking out women who are overly assertive and pushy.” She sighed. “Bossy old women are probably not a hot commodity in the dating world.”
“Oh, I don’t know. It takes all kinds.” Riva studied her discouraged friend carefully. Laurel was the oldest woman in the house, which seemed worthy of respect, and she’d always been the “strong” friend in Riva’s life. Despite the rough road Laurel had been down, she always seemed to rise above it all, helping others along the way. “Really, Laurel, I think your assertiveness has served you well. I would hope you wouldn’t try to reinvent yourself to attract a man. Think about it, would you really want someone like that anyway?”
Laurel finished her water, then just sat with a thoughtful expression.“No, I suppose I wouldn’t want that.” She turned to Riva. “But at the same time, I don’t want to be alone.”
“Like I just said, you’re not alone. You have friends.”
“Friends like Kitty?” Laurel rolled her eyes.
“Friends like me.” Riva hugged Laurel. “And I hope you don’t change yourself just to catch a man. But if you decide to make changes because you want to, because it’s good for you, then I will cheer you on.”
“Thanks, Riva.” Laurel tipped her head toward the street before standing. “Trouble this way comes.”
Riva looked out to see Kitty, on foot, coming up the hill toward the house.
“Excuse me,” Laurel said. She already had the front door open. “But I’m trying not to engage with that one.”
As Laurel disappeared into the house, Riva wanted to follow, but Kitty was eagerly waving to her, calling out “hello,” and Riva knew it would be rude to walk away.
She waved back as she went down the steps, heading toward the spade and bucket Laurel had left next to the path. She bent down to continue the weeding. If Kitty wanted to chat with her, she would have to do it while helping. But when Kitty got there, in her heels and snug skirt, she only remained there long enough to complain about her aching feet.
After Kitty went inside, Riva considered the assortment of women now inhabiting her house. Their commonality was being unmarried, home-challenged, and “of a certain age,” but could they possibly be more different from each other? How long would it take for this friendly faction of females to turn into a combative cast of contemptible characters? And if and when they did, where would Riva go to hide?
Chapter17
After a scrumptious dinner, Riva insisted on cleaning up. She told the ladies she wanted to do it alone, but Windy remained behind. “I want to do some prep work for Saturday’s dinner,” she told them.
“That reminds me”—Fiona pulled a folded flyer from her pocket—“don’t plan on me for dinner tomorrow night. And Riva too. Right, Riva?”
“Uh-huh.” Riva set a stack of plates in the sink.
“The Brewery?” Laurel’s tone sounded skeptical. “Isn’t that a pretty wild place on a Friday night?”
“I’ve been there a few times on Fridays when they have live music. It’s usually a bunch of twentysomethings acting like high school kids,” Kitty added. “I don’t mind going out with a younger man, but those boys are too young for me. Count me out.”
“That’s why I was trying to get some older folks to come,” Fiona said. “In case the youngsters don’t care for our music. We don’t want to flop on our first night there.”
“Well, I’ll go,” Windy offered. “I’ll be your date, Riva.”
“Great.” Fiona set a platter by the sink. “I’ve already reserved a table for her and Marcus. You can sit with them.”
“Riva and Marcus are going?” Laurel’s brows shot up. “When did this happen?”
“We ran into Fiona today,” Riva said nervously. “Marcus and I happened to meet up at the grief group today and then, well, we saw Fiona and she told us about the show. It’s no big deal.” She looked at Laurel. “And trust me, it’s not a date.”
“Then you won’t care if I join you,” Kitty chirped.
“No, not at all.” Riva felt like a phony but didn’t know what else to say.
“Then I’ll go too,” Laurel declared. “That way we’ll all be there.”
“Fabulous.” Fiona clapped her hands. “And I’ll go practice my fiddle for a bit. Don’t want to keep anyone up late tonight.”
