Windy stood in front of the French doors leading to the patio. “It’s still pretty warm out there, but we’ve got ice and drinks set up, and Riva has a fan running to create a breeze.”
“No problem for me,” Wes told her. “I like a warm evening.” He opened the door, waiting for Riva to pass through. “What an inviting backyard.”
“We’ve all been working on it. I sort of let things go after my husband passed. Windy is our landscape director. She’s got a real green thumb.”
“My sister is quite a gal,” Marcus told Wes. “She gardens and cooks and even volunteers at the Hummingbird Gallery.”
“You’re an artist?” Wes asked Windy.
She shrugged as she filled a glass with ice water. “I’m more of a dabbler.”
“Me too.” Riva told them about rediscovering her old art supplies today. “Maybe we should dabble together, Windy.”
“I’d love that.” Windy filled another water glass, handing each of the men one. “We should stay hydrated,” she told them.
“What mediums do you ladies dabble in?” Wes asked.
“Watercolors.” Windy handed Riva a water glass. “Particularly flowers and plant life.”
“Watercolors are too challenging for me,” Riva admitted as they took seats near the fan. “Maybe I’m just too much of a control freak. I prefer acrylic for painting. I think I’ll start with pencil sketching when I get started up again. Maybe work up into pen and ink.” She glanced at Wes. “I’m not an architect by any means, but I always enjoyed drawing interesting structures like bridges and old houses and beach town shanties. I’ve always wanted to draw this house in pen and ink.”
“You should do that,” Wes encouraged. “There’s so much detail to capture. Gingerbread and roof angles and leaded windows ... it’d make a good subject.”
They visited for a while, until Windy said she needed to get things ready in the kitchen.
“Need help?” Riva offered.
“Nah. It’s mostly all done, and Fiona already offered to do KP.” Windy looked at her brother. “Can you fire up the grill for me?”
“You got it.” He stood.
While Marcus fiddled with the grill, Wes and Riva chatted. He was an interesting guy, but he also seemed interested in her. He was just asking about her children when Laurel came out. She glanced all around, as if looking for something ... or, more likely, someone.
“It’s just the three of us out here,” Riva called out. “Come join us. Get yourself a glass of water. Windy wants to be sure we stay hydrated.”
While Laurel assisted Marcus with the grill, Wes asked Riva another question. “How long have you lived in this beautiful house?”
“It’s been in the family since my grandparents bought it,” sheexplained, “but I’ve pretty much lived here my whole life. My parents moved in to help with my grandmother after Grandpa died. I was only three. Then I wasn’t here during college and my first few years of marriage, but then my parents moved to Arizona and Paul and I moved in here.”
“Did you tell him how your fear of getting rid of books kept you here?” Laurel called out in a slightly teasing tone.
“What?” Wes looked puzzled.
“My library,” Riva explained. “My grandfather and father were both attorneys, like my late husband, and the book collection in the library is, uh, quite large. Partly due to them and partly because I’m a bookaholic. The idea of selling my home and the chore of packing or selling all those books—or burning them like my daughter suggested—was a little disturbing. It sounds silly, but it’s one reason I decided to take in renters ... so I could remain in my home and handle the expenses.”
Laurel came over to sit by Riva. “I just hope that you’re not regretting having your renters here.”
“Yeah, I’m curious how things went last night.” Marcus sat down too.
“What was last night?” Wes asked.
“A squabble between housemates.” Riva glanced at Laurel. “But maybe you don’t want to talk about it.”
Laurel shrugged. “Where is she, anyway?”
“She who?” Wes asked.
“Our housemate who’s been a little difficult,” Riva told him. “I guess I should warn you in case she shows up.”
