The goodbye cafe, p.36
The Goodbye Café, page 36
Through her own happy tears, Allie said, “If you say he completes me, I will gag.”
“And just that quickly, the old Allie is back.” Cara poked her in the back, and Allie laughed.
“You’re both going to be in the wedding,” Des told her sisters. “And Nikki, too.”
“Who’s going to give you away?” Cara asked.
“Why, Barney, of course.” Des turned to their aunt. “Will you, Barney?”
Barney nodded. “Nothing would make me happier.”
“Wait a minute.” Cara stared at Barney. “Why don’t you look surprised, like Allie and me?”
“Seth came to me last week and asked for my blessing, and of course, I was delighted to give it to him.”
“That’s so sweet.” Cara’s eyes filled all over again.
“You’d better tell Joe, Seth’s set the bar really high. He’s going to have to follow precedent,” Allie said.
“I’ll warn him.”
“Thanks, guys, for being my sisters, and for loving me, and for being here with me from the start of this journey.”
“Aw, Des, that was beautiful. Have you ever thought of writing sentimental greeting cards?”
“Oh, Allie . . .” Des was laughing through her tears.
“So we need to plan.” Allie pulled her notebook out of her bag. “Guest list. Food. Flowers. Music.”
“Since when have you become the great organizer?” Des took a tissue from her bag and wiped the tears from her face.
“Since I’ve been living with you all. I admit I’ve been a bit—well, slapdash in the past. But working on all the different elements at the theater has made me organize things better. I had to follow up on things, so I had to keep track. But don’t try to distract me. We’ve got a wedding to plan.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
For the following two weeks, it seemed that every day brought something new. The theater seats were finished and the painting completed. Everything was crossed off Allie’s list except for the tile work, but Joe was working on that.
“I can’t believe the fabulous job our upholstery ladies did on the seats. They’re pretty darned near perfect.” Allie showed off the Werner sisters’ handiwork to Des, who’d stopped in to check on the progress of the final renovation projects.
“I know,” Des agreed. “We need to pick a date for our big reveal.”
“What do you have in mind?” Allie led the way toward the restrooms, eager to check on Joe’s progress.
“I’m thinking a Saturday afternoon in October. You’ll come back for that, won’t you? We can’t have it without you and Nikki there.”
“Of course. We wouldn’t miss that for anything. Pick a Saturday and let’s go with it.”
They went into the ladies’ room, where Joe was on his knees, swiping adhesive onto the wall with a trowel.
“That’s going to look so fabulous I’m not going to be able to stand it,” Allie announced. “I love the way it looks there, where you’ve already got the tile placed.”
“Thanks. I like setting tile. It’s relaxing. Not like some of the other jobs I do. Like putting down new floors in an old carriage house where the walls aren’t straight.” Joe nodded. “Yeah. Like that.”
“You’re a good sport to do that for Cara, Joe.”
“What can I say? The woman wants a yoga studio, she gets a yoga studio.” Joe set another tile while they talked.
“Ah, true love,” Allie teased.
“Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it,” he quipped.
“Well, I did once. Didn’t turn out the way I planned.”
Joe looked back over his shoulder at her. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to bring up the past.”
“It’s not a problem. The past is always with me.” When he raised an eyebrow, Allie explained by simply saying, “Nikki.”
“How’s she doing in California?” he asked.
“Not well,” Allie told him.
What she didn’t tell Joe was that she had knots in her stomach most nights because Nikki called or texted to reiterate how much she hated being there. She had no friends, everyone was mean to her, Dad wasn’t listening.
“Sorry to hear that,” Joe said.
“Yeah, me, too.” She paused for a moment, her hands on her hips. “So when do you think you’ll have the tile work done? Not trying to rush you. I just need to make some arrangements. Plane tickets, reserve a car to lease for a while, find a place to live, that sort of thing.”
“I thought you owned a house out there?” Des asked.
“It’s been rented since I came east and the lease is good through March. I never thought we’d finish in six months, so while it’s good we’re ahead of schedule, it just means I have to make some arrangements before I get back there.”
“Call a Realtor and see if the lease can be broken,” Des suggested. “People do it all the time.”
“I have a call into one.” Allie thought she should probably follow up with Mary Pat and find out if her renters wanted to buy the house, and if she’d located anything for Allie to look at when she got out there.
She’d already made her reservations for the same flight as Nikki’s for Thanksgiving. Barney’d promised a feast, and the thought of all of them cooking together in that big kitchen of Barney’s and sharing the holiday meal with everyone she loved gave Allie a reason to smile, hopefully enough to get her through till October.
When Allie came into the house a little after ten, she followed voices into the office, where she found her sisters and her aunt in a planning session for the theater’s grand opening.
“In the meantime, we’ll need to start working on the promotion and advertising stuff. Posters, flyers, letters to the local TV stations and newspapers,” Des was saying.
“I can do that.” Allie came in and dumped her bag unceremoniously onto the floor. “It’ll give me something to do when I get back to L.A., and it will make me feel like I’m still a part of it.”
“Of course you’re part of it,” Cara said. “Why wouldn’t you be?”
“It won’t be the same as being here, so let’s not kid ourselves. But we can Skype and FaceTime and message and I can send my ideas back to you.” Allie tried to sound upbeat and positive, even if she felt anything but. “It’ll be fine. I’ll pretend I’m away at camp.”
“Oh, Allie.” Cara sighed. “I’m going to miss you so much. I can’t believe you’re actually leaving us.”
“All good things come to an end, and all that.” Allie tried to brush off Cara’s comment. She didn’t want to cry. She still had another few days before she left. If she broke down now, she’d probably cry right until the time her plane landed at LAX.
“You’re just such a big part of this,” Cara went on. “It just makes me so sad to think about you not being here.”
“Then don’t think about it. And don’t make me think about it, okay?”
“Sorry,” Cara said softly. “It’s just that . . . okay, I’ll shut up.”
“Anyway, I suggested the weekend of October 28,” Des said.
“That’s just a little more than a month from now,” Allie observed.
“I know.” Des grinned. “It means less time for us to be without you and Nikki, and then it’s only another month until Thanksgiving, and you’ll be back then.”
“And another month until Christmas. Well, aren’t you the clever little minx.” Allie returned her sister’s grin.
“I am. Anyone object to October 28 as our day for our opening?”
“No objection from me,” Cara said.
“Anything that brings our girls back home gets a definite thumbs-up from me,” Barney added.
“Well, there you go, Allie. Better make another set of plane reservations,” Des told her, “because the two of you are coming back a whole lot sooner than you planned.”
• • •
“Back in March, when we first arrived here, did you ever think you’d see this day?” Allie unlocked the front door of the old theater, with its unique and beautiful stained glass portrayals of tragedy and comedy, and led her sisters and her aunt inside.
“No. The first time we walked in here, I thought we’d be here for the rest of our lives.” Cara looked around in wonder at all they’d accomplished.
“And yet here we are.” Allie nodded. “With a little help from our friends, of course.”
“And now look at it.” Des’s gaze swept from floor to ceiling. “The Sugarhouse is ready to open for business. Again.”
“Except that it probably won’t until next summer,” Allie said.
“I don’t know. I’ve been thinking about maybe running some holiday movies. Just maybe one or two, in December. The films are still upstairs. Seth is going to do a trial run on that old projector he repaired,” Des reminded them. “And since the films have been kept in those metal canisters, they should be good.”
“That would be wonderful. Imagine watching White Christmas or It’s a Wonderful Life or Miracle on 34th Street here.” Cara looked around as if imagining the crowd.
“We’ll work on that,” Barney said. “But for now, let’s take care of business.”
The four Hudson women filed down the aisle through the audience until they stood in the orchestra section. Barney opened the tote she carried and took out a bottle of champagne.
“Who has the glasses?” she asked.
“Here.” Cara opened her bag and unwrapped the four delicate crystal flutes Barney had taken from her china cupboard and insisted they use for the occasion.
Barney popped the cork. “That’s for you, Fritz, you old rascal you,” she said as she watched it sail across the stage. “Glasses up, girls.”
She poured the bubbly liquid into each of the glasses, then into her own. She held it up to them in a toast and said, “Here’s to the Hudsons. To those who came before us, and those who will carry the family forward into the future. We’ve a proud heritage, girls, and I’m proud to see you each living up to it. To the Sugarhouse, her glorious past. May she be equally glorious in the years to come.”
And with that, Barney tossed back her champagne and her nieces followed suit. Barney’d poured little more than a splash in Allie’s glass, as per her request, but a sip was enough to join in the toast.
“We need photos,” Des declared, and took out her phone.
“We do.” Cara and Allie did likewise. Barney had brought a camera with her and they took turns posing and taking pictures all over the theater, from the stage to the balcony, the lobby to the refreshment area, and of course, in the newly tiled restrooms.
“Did anyone think to take pictures before we did all this work?” Cara asked.
“I did,” Des replied. “We’ll need them for the promotional materials we’re going to make up.” She turned to Allie. “I’ll forward everything I have to you so you can incorporate whatever you like into the booklet you’re going to do.”
“I’m thinking we want to send it out to the media outlets well before the event so we can contact them ahead of time to see if we can line up some coverage,” Allie said. “We should know who’s interested and who’s not.”
They chatted and took photographs for another hour and asked a passerby to take a picture of the four of them in front of the theater as they were leaving. By the time they’d walked back to the house on Hudson Street, they were almost talked out. Des and Cara retreated to their rooms, while Allie took the champagne glasses into the kitchen to rinse them before she, too, headed upstairs. But as she prepared to climb the steps, she caught a glimpse of light under the sitting room door. Curious—the door was rarely closed—she opened it and found Barney on the love seat, a box on her lap.
“Am I interrupting?” Allie asked from the doorway.
“What? Oh, no,” Barney said. “I was just looking at some old photos.”
Allie came in and sat beside her aunt. “Who’s that?” She pointed to the picture in Barney’s hand.
“That’s my grandfather Reynolds. He was quite distinguished looking, wasn’t he?”
“He was. Dad looked a little like him.”
“Yes. And we all have those brilliant blue eyes,” Barney added. “Which was the first thing I noticed about Tess and Wendy. Dead giveaways.” Barney put the photo atop a stack on the cushion next to her.
“What’s that little photo album there?” Allie pointed into the box at the snapshot-size book with a pink quilted cover.
“Oh. Take a look.” Barney handed the album to Allie.
The photos inside were of a small girl. In several of the shots, she wore a pink snowsuit with white fur trim around the hood, green mittens, and bright red boots.
“She didn’t have much fashion sense, did she?” Allie remarked.
“Perhaps not then, but she grew up to be a beauty with a style all her own.” Barney touched the photo gently. “Look closely, Allie.”
Allie flipped the pages of photos until she found one where the child’s face was totally visible. “Is that . . . is that me?”
“It most certainly is. Oh, how you loved those red boots. You wanted to wear them every single day.” Barney stared at the photo and it seemed to take her back in time for a moment. “Remember me telling you that your father brought you here and left you with me for several months right after Des was born?”
Allie nodded. “I do. You said Dad told you that Mom was overwhelmed having both a new baby and a toddler, and he asked if I could stay with you until Mom was coping better.”
“That’s right.”
Allie started from the beginning of the album again, carefully looking at each picture for the story it told. Her and Barney building a snowman that towered over the toddler. Her and Barney making cookies in the kitchen, flour everywhere, a broken eggshell on the table, chubby fingers covered with cookie dough. Walking on the sidewalk out front, Allie dressed in a pale blue dress with a bunny on the front, holding on to Barney’s hand.
“I must have stayed for more than a few months,” Allie said. “Des was born in July, and in some I’m wearing a snowsuit.”
“From July until early December. Nora wanted you back for the photos for her Christmas cards.” Barney’s expression hardened just enough for Allie to realize how much her aunt resented Nora, who’d pushed off her inconvenient child to her sister-in-law and left her there until it was time for a photo shoot.
“It looks like we had a lot of fun together while I was here, though.”
“One of the best times in my life.” Barney’s smile as she looked through the photos was bittersweet.
Through the photos, two things were clear: that Barney would have made a great mom had she had the chance, and that she’d loved the child Allie had been very much. It was written on her face in every picture.
“It wasn’t easy, letting your father take you back.” Barney apparently had read Allie’s mind. “We both knew Nora wasn’t going to be a good mother, though Fritz had promised to keep her in line. When you were young, he was able to do that, to a certain extent. Nora did love to dress up her pretty little girls and show them off. It used to kill me to see pictures in magazines or in the newspaper of the three of you. I think it was later, when you were a little older, when Nora’s star was falling and Des’s began to rise, that your mother’s true nature became more obvious. The drinking, the way she ignored you unless she could use you to put her back in front of the camera—any camera—well, I couldn’t blame your father for falling in love with another woman. I wanted him to own up to what she was, to walk away from her and take you and Des with him. Susa would have taken you in, I’ve no doubt about that. But Fritz was afraid that exposing Nora publicly as an alcoholic and a poor excuse for a mother would have been more harmful for you both in the long run. So we were at an impasse, my brother and I. I wanted him to man up, to tell Nora he wanted a divorce and to come clean to Susa about Nora. I thought Susa deserved to know he was still married to another woman. We both dug our heels in, and we didn’t see each other for years, until right before he died.”
“That’s why we didn’t know you while we were growing up.”
“I told him he wasn’t to set foot in this town until he did the right thing. He thought if he held back on letting you come to see me, that I’d give in. I thought he’d give in if I told him he wasn’t welcome here.” Barney closed the little album and put it back into the box. “We both lost so much. We were both fools. If I had to do it over . . .” Barney shook her head. “Unfortunately, we don’t get do-overs.” She patted Allie on the hand. “Something for you to keep in mind, my love.”
“I will,” Allie whispered. “I promise . . .”
• • •
There wasn’t a dry eye in the house when the time came for Allie to leave Hidden Falls. She’d packed her things the night before, waiting until the last minute to give herself something to do beside lying awake all night and thinking about everything she was leaving behind, and how much she’d changed. When she’d first arrived, she’d been a sarcastic, bitchy divorcée distressed at having had to leave her life—and her daughter—behind for an indefinite amount of time to move across the country for what she thought was a sure sign that her father had lost his mind. After seven months living with her sisters and Barney, that woman no longer existed. Except for the occasional smart remark that still managed to shoot out of her mouth before she could push it back, she’d become someone else. Someone with greater compassion and more love than she’d ever thought possible. The woman Ben had referred to as West Coast Allie was taking East Coast Allie back with her.
Cara, Des, and Barney had accompanied Allie to the airport, though Allie had offered to rent a car and drive herself.
“Absolutely not,” Barney had declared, adding that she’d offered to drive Lucille in honor of the occasion, but Cara had insisted on driving her car. Why take a chance on that classic beauty possibly breaking down on the road between Hidden Falls and the airport?
The ride had been all too short, and before she knew it, Allie was hugging her sisters and her aunt. There were tears all around, even though they all knew Allie’d be returning at the end of next month. It was the end of the time they’d spent living and working together for a common cause, and they all felt the loss acutely.
