Allie stretched across her bed and felt the knots in her calves unwind and stiffness in her shoulders begin to ease. She hadn’t been kidding when she’d said she’d never worked that hard. She wasn’t even sure if she’d ever been on her feet for that length of time. She sat up and moaned as she kicked off her sandals and sighed as she stripped down to her underwear. She was too tired to wash off her makeup or change into a nightshirt. Within minutes she’d fallen into a deep, dreamless sleep. She slept so soundly she missed breakfast the following morning, and by the time she arrived downstairs, everyone else seemed to be somewhere else. The kitchen clock read eleven forty-five. Allie couldn’t remember sleeping that late since college. Even when she was drinking alone back in her L.A. house after Nikki went to live with Clint, she’d never slept past ten that she could recall.
She threw together a minimal breakfast of coffee and a banana and opened the back door. Nikki and Courtney were facing each other in Adirondack chairs under the maple tree and laughing. Allie stepped outside, banana in hand, and joined them.
“Good morning, girls.” Allie pulled a chair closer to them and sat. “How are we doing this morning?”
“Fine.” Nikki nodded. “We’re just wasting time before Dad gets here.”
“We’re doing great, Miz Monroe.” Courtney began babbling about how she and Nikki had just decided to try out for the varsity field hockey team right before school begins.
“Is that what you want to do, Nik?” Allie asked.
“I guess,” she replied.
“Oh, you have to. It’ll be fun, especially when we have away games. All our friends are trying out. Peyton and Cassie and Devon and a couple others. And you’ll make it for sure, since you’re so good. You were the best forward on the freshman team last year. Probably the best player on the entire team.” Courtney was acting so chummy Allie had to wonder how sincere she was.
“I’ll think about it.” Nikki turned in her seat to face Allie. “Mom, did you skip the theater this morning?”
“Baby, even moms run out of gas sometimes. After last night, I couldn’t have gotten up at six or seven. I really needed the sleep. Besides, it’s Sunday.”
“Everybody needs to take a day off now and then. Aunt Barney always says that. And you’re almost finished with the ceiling. Dad and I climbed up to the top of the scaffold last night so he could see close-up how good you’re doing. I couldn’t tell which ones you already did, but I showed him the ones that were missing and explained your process to him. He was really impressed.” Nikki stared at her mother for a moment. “Did you ever think about being an artist? Like, a real artist? Where you paint all the time and sell your stuff?”
“I have thought about it, yes, but I’m realistic enough to know that I don’t have that kind of talent. But thank you for thinking that I do.”
“You totally should, Miz Monroe. The ceiling at the theater is beautiful. Nikki pointed out where you worked on it. You’re really good.”
Nikki slanted a look in Courtney’s direction—Great side-eye, Nik!—but didn’t comment.
“Thank you, Courtney.” Allie finished the banana, then turned her attention back to Nikki. “What time is your dad expected?”
Nikki checked her phone. “In about thirty-five minutes.”
“Just enough time for me to get a shower.” Allie stood and stretched. God, she was still tired. “Oh crap.”
“What’s wrong?”
“I need to get down to the Goodbye to open. It should have been opened hours ago. What the hell was I thinking?” Allie ran to the house trying to figure out how long it would take her to look presentable.
“Mom, it’s okay. Barney’s there,” Nikki called to her.
“She is?” Allie stopped on the top step.
Nikki nodded. “She was just leaving when I came downstairs for breakfast. She said she was going to do the first shift so you could sleep.”
“God bless her. Now I can take a shower.”
• • •
Allie got out of the shower feeling like a new person. She dried and even styled her hair for a change from the ponytail or the braid she’d been sporting all summer. But she just couldn’t bring herself to put on the shirt and pants she’d dropped onto the floor as she’d shed them the night before. She decided on a sporty dress she hadn’t worn since she arrived in Hidden Falls. It had a boatneck, short sleeves, and fell a few inches above her knees. It was a simple lightweight knit fabric in a glorious shade of blue. Darker than sky blue, lighter than navy, the color matched her eyes almost perfectly. Cinched at the waist with a pale green belt, it set off her figure quite nicely, she thought. Sandals and a row of beaded bracelets finished off her look for the day. She glanced in the mirror and admitted she felt happy with what she saw. The gaunt look she’d had when she first arrived in Hidden Falls was gone, and while she had gained a few pounds, she couldn’t deny she’d needed them. If she’d filled out, it was all in the right places, and was due to her improved diet. And, she had to admit, the fact that she’d cut back—way back—on her consumption of alcohol. Not entirely by choice, but still. Whatever the reason, she was looking and feeling all the better for it.
Clint and Marlo had arrived while she was putting on makeup and she told the girls to go to the Goodbye and have lunch, and to tell Barney she’d be on her way soon. She walked to the café, so much on her mind she could barely keep up with where her thoughts were going: they ping-ponged all around her brain. Foremost in her mind was her suspicion that Courtney was not to be trusted. Should she talk to Nikki, warn her that Courtney wasn’t what she appeared to be?
Tough call, Mama. The two girls had been inseparable for the past two years. It was a tricky situation for Nik to be in because Courtney was the center of the group of girls Nikki hung out with, and there was a good chance they might become stepsisters someday.
Ugh.
How would Clint handle things if the situation blew up once Nikki was back home? Would he ignore it? Would Nikki even discuss such problems with him? Allie doubted it. Nikki never had before.
Allie couldn’t wait to get back to L.A. She wanted to be close enough to Nikki to protect her from . . . oh, everything, not the least of which were catty girls and horny boys.
The oak tree at the foot of the driveway was just starting to drop leaves, not a flurry, just a few now and then. She could feel a hint of crispness in the air last night when she got out of Ben’s car. He’d walked her to the door saying, “I don’t want to be responsible for you passing out on the lawn. I’d have a hell of a time explaining that to Barney.”
She was glad Ben’d approached her to end the tension between them, and grateful that he’d accepted her apology. Not that it mattered for any reason other than the fact that her sisters were dating—seriously dating—his two best friends. They were bound to see each other frequently, so it was nice they could be cordial to each other.
Cordial? Friendly with a bit of a flirty edge tossed in was more like it. There’d always been a subtle undercurrent, and she couldn’t make an argument to herself that she hadn’t enjoyed it. She liked the fact that he’d made the first move to smooth things over, that when he’d reserved a table for two it had been with her in mind. Which was why he’d waited until almost the last minute to come inside. He’d been out in the crowd all night, and could have come in at any time, and could have brought any one of the local cuties with him. But he’d done neither. And he’d called ahead. Which meant he’d put some thought into it.
He’d even complimented her—had hell frozen over?—and he’d recognized how hard she’d been working. And he’d noticed that she’d seemed to be enjoying it.
Well, she had. She was only half kidding when she’d wondered what was happening to her. Other than her sporadic appearances on Des’s TV show, and her job as assistant director on two others, she’d never really worked. She’d never known what it was like to sweat or to be on your feet until your back ached and your legs begged for mercy. She’d never had to be so organized, and she’d certainly never been in charge or had to make decisions like she’d had to yesterday. It had felt good, every bit of it. Maybe because she got to see herself in a different light, or because she’d felt she had to prove something to herself. Whatever, she found she liked the fast tempo and having to think on her feet. She’d even liked interacting with their customers and making the obligatory small talk. It had all mattered to her, which made her realize the Goodbye mattered to her as well.
Well, damn. Who’d have seen that coming?
She waved to someone passing by in a blue sedan and thought she recognized the driver but wasn’t sure. When he called out, “Great party last night! Great dinner!” she called back, “Thank you! Come back again sometime.”
“We definitely will!”
The friendliness made her smile, made her feel like she belonged. Oh, she knew it was only temporary, but still. It was nice.
She reached the café and noticed the tables and chairs had been folded and stacked curbside, waiting, she assumed, for someone to pick them up and return them to wherever Barney’d borrowed them. She’d have to remember to talk to Barney about buying some small tables to put out there in nice weather. It really could be cute, she thought as she went inside.
The café was filled with chatter, not loud, but consistent with a room where people were engaged in conversation. Allie looked around for Barney, who was talking with a small group at a table against the wall. She gave Allie a small wave of acknowledgment but went right on talking.
She spied Nikki’s group and went over to their table.
“How was your night in Scranton?” she asked Clint.
“Great. Nice city.” He touched his napkin to the corners of his mouth and nodded. “Very nice, right, Marlo?”
“It is. The scenery out here is amazing. The mountains and the farms, and oh, we passed some lovely lakes. They looked like postcards,” Marlo said.
“You guys want to see a beautiful lake, next time you’re here, I’ll take you out to our lake,” Nikki said. “Compton Lake.”
“What’s so special about your lake?” Courtney seemed to slip back into mean-girl Courtney after having been BFF Courtney all morning. Strange, Allie thought, and wondered what was behind the change.
“Well, for one thing, it’s pristine. It’s fed by fresh springs. Seth said it’s one of the cleanest lakes around. It’s got woods all around it, and Seth said it’s filled with wildlife, deer and foxes and bears. The fishing is great because it’s private and not open to the public to come in and catch all the fish or to shoot the deer. And it’s clean because we don’t let people camp there or anything.”
“Why not? That’s kind of selfish, don’t you think?” Courtney made a face. “Other people should be allowed to enjoy the lake, too.”
“There are plenty of lakes up here, and there are state parks with lakes. That lake is ours. Aunt Barney said our ancestor who settled out here won the lake and—I don’t remember how many acres of ground, do you, Mom?” Nikki asked.
Allie shook her head.
“Anyway, he won it in a poker game and it’s never been sold. So it’s ours.” Nikki’s voice had a slight edge to it.
“Everything up here is yours,” Courtney muttered.
Nikki shrugged. “It’s Hudson country, what can I tell you? My grandpa’s family settled out here, like, hundreds of years ago. They cleared the wilderness, right, Aunt Barney?” Nikki asked as Barney joined the group.
“All true, darling.” Barney smiled, surely knowing, as even Allie did, that hundreds of years might be an overstatement, but Nikki was making a point.
The wilderness part was true, though, as was the part about the lake and all the land around it having been won in a poker game. Points to the kid for remembering that.
“So we should make plans for you to come back home, right?” Clint was saying.
Nikki turned her head quickly to look up at her mother. “Not yet. I don’t have to go back yet, do I, Mom?”
“Of course not. There’s still time before school starts in September.”
“You do need to think about it, Allie.” Clint directed the comment to her. “We need to make flight arrangements. I need to know when that flight lands, so my schedule is cleared to pick her up. And Courtney said something about coming back a week early for field hockey tryouts.”
“I haven’t made up my mind about that, Dad,” Nikki said.
“Well, what else would you do? You know you need one major activity every semester,” he reminded her.
“I don’t know. Maybe drama. Maybe debate. I want to think about it.” Nikki averted her eyes from both parents.
“Drama? Debate?” Courtney scoffed. “I thought we agreed on field hockey.”
“I said I’d think about it,” Nikki said.
“Okay, if you want to be a dork,” Courtney said, an obvious attempt to demean anything Nikki might want to do other than what Courtney was doing.
“Nik, I think you should—” Clint began, but Allie cut him off.
“Clint, I think you should do as Nikki asks and allow her to weigh her options without anyone leaning on her.” Allie mentally gave herself a high five for not only speaking calmly and rationally, but for not grabbing him by the throat and grunting, “Back off,” in his face.
He nodded. “All right. You’re right, Allie. Nik, you go ahead and see what’s going to be available first semester and pick whatever you think you’ll most enjoy.”
“Thanks, Dad. I’ll pull it up online.” Nikki’s gaze followed someone behind her mother. When Allie turned around, she saw Mark, along with his mother and sister, waiting at the desk.
“Excuse me,” Allie said. She walked to the desk and greeted Roseanne and Hayley. Mark said good morning to Allie, then walked around her to say hello to Nikki, who’d motioned him over with a big smile.
“Dad, this is my friend Mark. Mark, I want you to meet my dad, Clint Monroe.” Nikki’s pride in both her father and her boyfriend were apparent. Allie couldn’t hear what Mark and Clint were saying to each other, but they were both smiling, so she figured it was okay.
She seated Roseanne and Hayley and placed three menus on the table. She motioned for the Sunday morning waitress, Dolores, to bring Roseanne a cup of coffee. They made small talk for a few moments before Allie left them alone to study the menu and make their selections. From the desk, she had a clear view of Nikki’s table, and a very clear view of Courtney’s attempts to get Mark’s attention as she stared at him, a rapt expression on her face.
The evil little brat was trying to flirt with Nikki’s boyfriend. Mark, to his credit, barely paid any notice, engaged as he was with Clint. If his gaze strayed from Clint, it rested only on Nikki.
Oh, honey, you picked a good one. But you might want to think about looking for a new BFF.
Even Marlo picked up on it, saying, “Courtney, stop trying to interrupt.”
Soon enough, the dining room filled up, with tables emptying and being immediately filled, and the level of chatter rose in proportion to the number of people talking.
“People come right after church, if they’ve gone early, then later in the morning, if they’ve attended one of the later services,” Barney told her when they met up at the desk. “Then we have the folks who enjoy an early lunch. It’s been like this on Sunday mornings for as long as I can recall.”
“If it’s always going to be like this, I guess you won’t have to worry about a return on your investment,” Allie said.
“I never did, dear. Oh look, there’s the Mattlock family. I wonder why they didn’t stop by to see Judy last night.” And Barney was off to find out.
“Wow, we’re really packed.” Cara appeared at Allie’s elbow.
“Oh hey. I didn’t see you come in,” Allie said.
“I just did. Joe likes to take his mom and sister for breakfast sometimes on Sundays. Can we sit anywhere?”
“There are four of you?” Allie glanced at her table chart.
“Five. Ben’s joining us.” Cara paused. “That won’t make it uncomfortable for you, will it?”
“Why should it?”
“Well, you know, you two haven’t been on the best of terms lately.”
“No, we’re fine now,” Allie assured her, and turned to smile at a party of six who were leaving. “Grab that table before someone else comes in.” She looked around as the others came in. She greeted Joe, his mother and sister. “I thought you said Ben was coming with you.”
“He got a call about a possible burglary, but he’ll be along.” Joe looked around the room, spotted Nikki, and waved. “Is that her dad?” he asked.
Allie nodded. “That would be him. And his girlfriend. And the girlfriend’s daughter, who used to be Nikki’s best friend.”
“Used to be?” Joe asked.
“Long story. I’ll tell you later.” Allie showed them to the table.
Ben came in just as Clint and company were getting ready to leave. The two men nodded at each other in a sort of wary greeting when they both apparently realized the other was staring at Allie.
“Looking good this morning, Miz Monroe,” Ben whispered as he walked past to join Joe and Cara.
She smiled. She walked Clint and Marlo to the door, Courtney lagging behind. Had she just taken a photo of Mark with her phone? And had she taken a second before dropping her phone into her bag, or was she photographing the café?
Nikki hugged her father, and Marlo held her arms open to give her a hug, which Nikki stepped into tentatively. Allie’s heart constricted, and she wanted to shout at Marlo to get her hands off her daughter, but her better angels intervened and she said nothing. Chances were good that Marlo would be her stepmother someday, and at the very least, she appeared to show genuine affection for Nikki, which in the long run could only be a good thing. But when she caught Courtney hugging Nikki, she couldn’t help but send her best mom’s stink eye in her direction.
That girl was trouble, Allie was sure of it. She couldn’t help but feel sorry for Marlo, and by extension, Clint. Well, maybe not so sorry for him. Allie smiled to herself. Maybe when he compares Courtney to Nikki—which he will inevitably do—he’ll have to admit that I did one hell of a job with that kid of ours. Allie wasn’t modest about taking 90 percent of the credit.
Nikki walked her father out and waited on the sidewalk until the car pulled away from the curb. When she came back into the café, she gave Allie a hug.
“What was that for?” Allie asked.
“Just for being my mom.”
“Do you feel sad about your dad leaving?” Allie said.
“I’d feel sadder if he’d come by himself.” Nikki went over to Mark’s family table and pulled out a chair.
The influx eased as the afternoon progressed. Barney finished her table hopping and came back to the desk.
“After watching you in action,” Allie said, “I do believe you bought this place strictly for the opportunities to socialize for hours on end.”
“Ah, she’s on to me.” Barney looked around the restaurant. “Do you think we should redo the interior with a vintage look? Something that might be compatible with the theater?”
“That’s a thought.” Allie shared her ideas about painting the room and reframing the old photos. Barney agreed to all Allie’s ideas, and asked what Allie thought they could do about the floor.
As they exchanged ideas for the café’s new look, the breakfast and brunch diners began to make way for the late-lunch crowd. Allie sent Barney home—it was clear the woman was exhausted—and later, when it came time to close for the night, Allie locked the front door behind the last diner, sent the staff home, and was on her way out when she remembered she’d wanted to check the waitress schedule for the coming week.
She went into the office, then sat at Judy’s old desk and resisted the urge to put her head down and sleep. As uncomfortable as she usually found Judy’s chair, it felt wonderful to sit anywhere after having been on her feet the entire day. Judy’d promised to clean off her desk before she left for New Mexico, but she hadn’t done it. Allie didn’t like riffling through someone else’s correspondence, but she’d been told the schedule was on the desk. She found an unmarked folder and opened it, but the form she was looking for wasn’t among the seemingly random papers. She was just about to close the folder when something she’d seen toward the back of the file caused her to pause. She flipped through a layer of bills to a note that was written on plain white paper.
Just a heads-up that I’m going to be on vacation starting the week after next, but I have someone who can cover for me if need be. Give me a call.
J.
Allie stared at the writing, at the form of the letter, at the signature at the bottom.
“Oh my God . . .”