Windy’s brows arched. “I’m surprised. I figured with that well-equipped kitchen and all that counter space, you’d be into cooking. It would be such a fun place to whip things up. And if I lived here, I’d love to cook for you as well.”
Riva didn’t know what to say. Windy seemed to be jumping to conclusions here. “Well, I used to enjoy cooking back when my kids were home. We remodeled the kitchen about twenty years ago, and putting meals together was fun for a spell. But then Kenzie headed off to college and Brent—that's my son—joined the Air Force, and I had to adjust to cooking for two instead of four.”
“I know what you mean. I had to do the same thing. But after I got used to it and quit overbuying at the grocery store, I really enjoyed it.”
“I sort of did too. Then Paul got sick and his appetite changed.” Riva stood by the door, ready to call this house tour done. “I mostly made smoothies for him the last couple years ... It wasn’t much fun.” To be honest, life wasn’t much fun, but she didn’t want to be a complete killjoy since Windy seemed so hopeful and optimistic, still obsessed with the horrible attic space.
Riva sighed and, overwhelmed by Windy’s enthusiasm and tired of the stuffy attic smell, headed back to the second floor. “Look around as long as you like,” she called over her shoulder, eager to get back downstairs and to her sanity.
All this talk about renting rooms to strangers and the possibility of letting this eccentric woman move into her attic, share her kitchen, and work in her backyard was discombobulating. What was Riva getting into? How could she put on the brakes? Good grief, she didn’t even know this Windy person! What if she turned out to be a hoarder with twelve cats? Or what if she had a bunch of wild friends that she planned to invite over for noisy parties? Or worse, what if she were a criminal looking for a hideout to hole up in? Or what if she was involved in drugs? That’d be disastrous.
As Riva went into her kitchen, which really was pretty swankywith the stainless appliances and sleek countertops, she replayed how Windy had admitted to admiring and even “loving” this house for years. What if she was on a mission to get rid of Riva and attain the property for herself? Riva had recently watched a creepy Lifetime movie about that very thing. And it had been based on a true story! No, Riva decided, before this craziness went too far with Windy—if that was her real name—she would nip it in the bud!
Chapter3
Riva felt her head spinning as she watched Windy’s little orange bug back out of her driveway. From Kenzie’s visit to the grief group to the strange hippie woman wanting to rent the attic, this had been a dizzying day! And really? Had she just told that woman she’dthink about it? Seriously, what was there to think about? Riva’s mind was made up. She didn’t want to rent rooms—to anyone. Even if Windy was the finest French chef who’d cook all the meals and also a master gardener, Riva wasnotinterested. She liked living alone ... didn’t she? She’d never felt truly lonely in her old house. The memories made it like living with family. But what if she lost her beloved home? What then? Riva’s phone chimed, interrupting her scattered thoughts. She checked the screen to see it was Laurel. Maybe this was her fault. “Hello,” she growled, answering the call.
“Are you okay?” Laurel asked.
“Yeah, just great.” She knew her tone was sarcastic, but she couldn’t seem to help it as she moved to the library. “It’s been an, uh, an interesting day.” She stared up at the book spines that normally brought her comfort but suddenly felt overwhelming. Like maybe her daughter was right.Maybe they were running her life, imprisoning her.
“So how did it go?” Laurel asked.
“What?” Riva sank into a chair.
“The grief group.”
“Oh, that.” She sighed. “It was okay, I guess.”
“Then why do you sound so bummed?”
“It’s your friend Windy.”
“Windy?” Laurel sounded shocked. “What could Windy have possibly done to make you so grumpy? She’s about the sweetest, kindest person I know. No offense, but she’s even nicer than you.”
“Thanks a lot.”
“Sorry. So tell me, what did Windy do?”
“She wants to rent my attic.”
“What?”
Riva explained the impromptu visit and house tour and Windy’s suggestion to take in boarders. “And she wants to be the first.”
There was a pause. “That’s an absolutely brilliant idea.”
“Brilliant?”
“Well, I know you’ve been worried about finances, Riva.”
“Yeah, but—”
“Why not rent to Windy? She’s a good person. Is she really serious about your attic?”
“She sounded serious. Which is suspicious. I mean, it’s so ugly up there. Awful paint, horrible old carpet. But she’s certain she can make it livable. She even offered to help with the yard and cooking.”
“She loves plants, and she’s a fabulous cook.”
