Midnight at the Blackbird Cafe

by Heather Webber

  Whether that pie would bring Summer any comfort tonight when she dreamed, I wasn’t sure. I hoped so, but I just didn’t know, what with Jena having baked the pies. Tonight I’d take over the task.

  “Not unless you count the fake coyote in our vegetable garden,” Jena said with a smile. “Keeps away some of the dumber critters.”

  “Where do you live? Is it close by?”

  “Not far,” Bow said. “A couple of blocks away.”

  “It’s a small two-bedroom cottage near the bridge over Willow Creek,” Jena said. “It’s not much to look at, but the land is beautiful and the burble of the creek at night is like a lullaby.”

  Her voice had softened to the point that it felt like a lullaby. “Sounds peaceful.”

  “Most times, it is.” Jena reached up on top of a shelf for a roll of paper towels and let out a soft groan, dropping her arm back down.

  “Are you okay?” I asked.

  “Fine, fine,” she insisted. “Just an old injury that never healed quite right. Sometimes I forget, is all.” She reached up with her left arm and grabbed the paper towels.

  “Maybe you should see a doctor. It’s possible something can still be done…”

  “Said just like the wonderful doctor you’re gonna be someday. But I’m fine, sugar. I learned to live with this little foible of mine a long time ago.” She massaged her right shoulder. “I’m sure the Lindens are real proud that you’re going to follow in your daddy’s footsteps, to continue the Linden legacy.”

  “Jena,” Bow sighed.

  “What?” she said, tearing off a paper towel. She wiped a spill on the side of a cabinet. “Everyone knows AJ Linden was going to be a doctor like his daddy and granddaddy. By the way, how did your time with Doc go today, Anna Kate? I haven’t had the chance to ask.”

  My mother had strongly encouraged me down the same path as my father. It made sense. Healing was in my blood, after all, and following his lead made me feel connected to him in a way nothing else did. I wanted him to be proud of me. But I didn’t want to think about what the Lindens, Doc and Seelie, thought of my career choice. I certainly didn’t want to care.

  I rubbed at a spot on the counter with a rag. “Doc invited me to Sunday supper. I said no. I had to say no.”

  “You don’t think you made the right decision?” Jena asked in that gentle trill of hers, obviously picking up on my conflict.

  I added more cleaner to the counter, and a lemon and lavender scent filled the air. “Were you guys around when the accident happened?”

  Bow dropped a chair, and the crack when it hit the floor sounded like a gunshot. “Butterfingers,” he said. “Sorry. The chair’s fine.”

  Jena pushed the mop back and forth. “We’d arrived in town shortly before the accident,” she said. “Why do you ask?”

  “My mother was always a little dodgy when talking about the accident and its aftermath—probably trying to spare my feelings. But I want to know what truly happened.”

  “Well, I can fill in some of it,” Jena said, making her way toward me with the mop.

  “Jena,” Bow warned.

  “Hush up,” she said. “Anna Kate has the right to know.”

  “Know what?” I asked.

  Bow sighed and picked up another chair.

  Jena’s dark eyes were full of light when she said, “To hear tell, Eden and AJ had been fighting like cats and dogs that summer, with him heading off to school down at Alabama. Eden didn’t want to be left behind. She was itching to leave Wicklow, and she always thought she’d be leaving with AJ. But they couldn’t figure out how to make it all work, between school and expenses and Zee wanting Eden to stay here—they’d been at each other’s throats too, over Eden wanting to leave.”

  I’d known that last part, because that tension between them had never fully ebbed.

  “Finally,” Jena said, “Zee relented for the sake of Eden’s happiness, and even offered up a small loan to help get the lovebirds on their feet. A plan came together. Eden and AJ would rent an apartment in Tuscaloosa. After getting settled, Eden would find work, eventually enroll in a nursing program, and start planning a wedding. And after their schooling, they’d go wherever their whims took them, see the world together before the winds of destiny brought them back to Wicklow.”

  “Back to Wicklow?” I asked, eager to hear more. To hear it all. “Why?”

  “You see, AJ was destined to take over his daddy’s practice. And your mama, well, her destiny is here, with the blackbirds. It was why Zee was willing to let Eden go and fly free for a while. She knew Eden would come back. That she had to come back or her soul would never be at peace.”

  I glanced out the back windows, toward the mulberry trees.

  No matter how far a guardian roams, she will always return, and while away she will never be settled, as her soul is tethered to the roots of the trees. She’ll never be truly content until she’s home among the roots, comforting and healing once again.

  Jena leaned on the mop. “But Eden and AJ’s plans were derailed before they could even rent an apartment.”

  “Why?” I asked.

  “Seelie.”

  Why was I not the least bit surprised?

  “When Seelie caught wind of the plans, she threatened AJ, saying she wasn’t going to let him play house on her dime. She wanted him to join a fraternity and not tie himself down to Eden so young. Seelie gave him an ultimatum. College or Eden.”

  I couldn’t imagine the pressure he’d been under, having to make a choice like that. Forced to pick between his dream of becoming a doctor—and the family expectations that goal carried with it—and the woman he loved.

  Jena dunked the mop in a bucket. “AJ and Eden were on their way back from a tour of the Alabama campus when the crash happened. Seelie believes AJ told Eden he’d chosen college over her and that Eden, in a fit of madness, drove off the road.”

  “Seelie’s the only one who believes that,” Bow added quickly as he set another chair on a table.

  It was the first time I’d heard any of this, and I ached with the knowledge, feeling a depth of sadness for my parents. “Do we…” I took a breath. “Do we know for sure that had been his decision?”

  “No, ma’am,” Bow said. “Not since Eden couldn’t remember anything from that day. Thankfully, the police declared the crash an accident, but Seelie still insists to this day that it happened her way.”

  I forgave the “ma’am” in this situation. “But the police cleared my mom. Why can’t Seelie let it go?”

  Jena said, “Technically, the police didn’t have enough evidence to charge Eden. And while Seelie’s voice carries a lot of weight in this town, a good portion of the community backed Eden. Everyone with eyes saw how much she and AJ loved each other. As soon as it was announced that no charges were going to be filed, Eden left town. Many expected she’d be back one day, destiny being what it is, but then, they didn’t know about you. It’s clear now why she stayed away.”

  Absently, I nodded. “I think I might stop by the library after I go to the Pavegeaus’ … It’s inside the courthouse, right?”

  “Yep. Second floor. Are you going to look at old newspapers?” Jena asked, eyebrow raised.

  I smiled at how well she could read me. “Guilty.” I wanted—needed—to know anything and everything about that accident. Old articles were a good place to start.

  “Best you hurry, then,” Jena said. “The library closes at five. We’ve got the rest of the chores covered.”

  “Are you sure?” I asked.

  “Positive,” she said.

  I tossed the rag in the laundry room and put away the cleaner. “I don’t know how you two do this day in and day out. All this work is exhausting.”

  Bow said, “For one, it’s not usually this busy.”

  “For another,” Jena added, “Zee always hired day help when we needed it most. It’s something for you to consider.”

  “I’ll think about it.” Hiring someone right now seeme
d a daunting challenge. I’d wait a few days, see if the birders stuck around, before putting a sign in the window.

  Bow finished with the chairs. “You’ve got that map I drew to the Pavegeau place?”

  “I do.” I pulled it from my back pocket and stared at the squiggles, trying to pretend they made sense.

  “You sure you don’t want me to show you the way? It can be tricky,” he said, offering for the third time.

  “I’m sure. Thanks. I need to start finding my way around here on my own.”

  Jena leaned the mop against the pie case. “The Pavegeau place isn’t exactly on the beaten path, tucked off in the woods like it is.”

  “I’ll be okay. And this is a great map,” I lied as I headed for the front door. “I’ll find my way, no problem.”

  Jena said, “Be sure to announce yourself loud and clear when you get there, so you don’t get your head shot clear off.”

  I looked back at her to see if she was joking.

  She wasn’t.

  “People ’round here are real protective of their land.” Her dark eyes were wide with reverence. “And Aubin hasn’t been quite right in the head since his accident. He used to be real social, but he’s become a bit of a loner, practically going off-grid. I can’t imagine he’s too keen on drop-in visitors, especially strangers.”

  “Aubin? Accident?” I asked.

  “Summer’s father,” Bow said. “The family was in a bad wreck six winters ago. Hit an icy patch and slid down the mountain. Not a scratch on Summer, but her mother, Francie, died from her injuries. Aubin was banged up pretty badly. Head and internal injuries. Mangled leg.”

  “How horrible.” I quashed my own grief for the father I’d never known, which tended to pop up at any mention of fatal car accidents, and glanced at the pie box in my hand. I was more determined than ever to get it to Summer.

  “Terrible time.” Jena tsked.

  “Is Aubin okay now?”

  “Mostly,” Jena said. “But no denying he’s a changed man. Quiet when he used to be the life of the party. Cautious when he used to throw caution to the wind. He doesn’t come into town much except to visit his wife’s grave. He’s at the cemetery every day come four o’clock, rain or shine.”

  “Does he work?” I asked, thinking of Summer selling me eggs this morning.

  “Used to.” Bow pulled a trash bag out of its can. With a flick of his wrist, he tied off the bag and set it aside. “He was a mail carrier. Went on disability for a while after the accident, then was reassigned to a clerk position since he had trouble driving with his bad leg and all. But he up and quit after a month or so.”

  Jena tapped her temple. “Mentally he hadn’t been ready to go back to work. Nowadays, he makes do with what he and Summer grow on their land and by selling handmade soaps and the like at craft fairs. They get by okay.”

  Bow put a new bag in the trash can. “It’ll take me but a minute to finish up here. Let me go with you, Anna Kate. I can make introductions.”

  “No, no,” I insisted stubbornly. I didn’t know why Summer had hightailed it out of here earlier, and I didn’t want to spring more people on her than I had to. “I’m used to figuring out things on my own. I’ll be all right.”

  “But sugar,” Jena trilled. “You have us now to help you out.”

  “Thanks all the same. You two have done so much for me already,” I said, trying to reassure them. “Speaking of, thanks for everything today. I couldn’t have reopened the café without your help.” I pulled open the front door.

  “You’re welcome, you sweet thing,” Jena said. “Please don’t get shot dead. I’ve become mighty fond of you.”

  “I’ll do my best.” I gave them a wave and let the door close behind me. I’d made it two steps before looking at the map and realizing I was heading the wrong way. I turned around, glanced into the café, saw Bow shaking his head, and waved again.

  I’d barely taken two more steps when Sir Bird Nerd stepped in front of me.

  “Sorry to bother you, ma’am,” he said. “I just wanted to say thank you for sending out the cold water and tea sandwiches earlier. Very kind of you. Most of us hadn’t planned to stay here the whole day long.” He held his hand out. “Zachariah Boyd.”

  I shook. “Anna Kate Callow. You’re welcome, and I thought we discussed the ma’am thing.” I’d rather share the food than see it go to waste, and as the day had gone on, the birders seemed to wilt in the heat. I didn’t want any of them passing out in the side yard.

  His cheeks colored. “Right. Sorry about that.”

  “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go—” I eyed the map, looking for landmarks I recognized.

  “Before you do…” he said.

  “Yes?”

  “I heard a rumor the blackbirds don’t come out until midnight. Is that true?”

  “Yes, that’s true.”

  His double chin jiggled as he glanced toward the mulberry trees, which were barely visible from this spot. “But blackbirds don’t come out at night.”

  “Some things can’t be explained, Mr. Boyd. The birds are out for an hour, from midnight until one.”

  He frowned at his watch. “Thank you kindly, ma’—” He cut himself off and walked back toward the fence line, where he’d used a folding chair to stake out a prime viewing spot.

  The yard was crowded with people, chairs, blankets, cameras, and scopes. It seemed to me the numbers of birders had tripled during the day. Even as I stood there watching, two more people arrived, bucket hats and binoculars in tow. As I walked away, I decided it would probably be a good idea to bake a few extra pies tonight.

  As I walked past the courthouse, which had a playground occupying one corner of its vast grounds, I saw a woman playing chase with a young girl. I recognized them as the pair who’d crisscrossed in front of the café a dozen times that morning—but never came inside.

  “Mama’s going to get you,” the woman said, using exaggerated stutter steps as she rounded a gleaming silver teeter-totter.

  I couldn’t help smiling as the toddler ran across the playground as fast as her stubby, stiff legs could carry her, her arms open wide for balance. She squealed in sheer delight. I couldn’t remember what it was like to not have a single care in the world like this little one, but for a moment it felt as though she were sharing her joy with me. A gift I gladly accepted as I pressed onward, looking for the next landmark on Bow’s map.

  “Hey! Hello! Wait up! You with the pie box! Anna Kate!” a voice yelled out.

  I stopped and slowly turned around. The woman held the little girl in her arms and was trotting toward me.

  “Hi,” she said, slightly out of breath.

  The girl’s cheeks were flushed bright red, a mix of heat and exertion. Dirt smudged the delicate skin on the toddler’s knees and the tiny toes that peeked out of sturdy sandals.

  Strands of the mother’s hair had come loose from the knot at the nape of her neck, curling loosely around gold stud earrings that glinted in the sunshine. Her pink cheeks gave her a healthy glow, and her rose-colored lipstick wasn’t so much as smudged. There wasn’t even a speck of dirt on her yellow dress. How she could chase a toddler and still look so … put together was beyond me.

  “Hello?” I said back, unsure why she had called out to me.

  “Hihi!” The girl flapped an arm.

  “Hi,” I said to her. “I like your flower.”

  Her dirty hand went to her head, where a floral headband held back damp, sweaty hair. “Pink!”

  “It’s very pretty.”

  “Hihi!”

  I smiled and looked at the woman. “She’s adorable.”

  “Thank you. She’s a hot mess right now in desperate need of a bath. I am, too. Playgrounds aren’t for the faint of heart, especially on a hot day like today.”

  “Ba!”

  “Yes, bath,” she said to her. To me, she added, “I’m Natalie, by the way. Natalie Walker. And this is Ollie. Well, Olivia Leigh, but she goes by Ollie
. Thanks for stopping. I didn’t mean to sound so … manic. I saw the pie box and had a moment. I really want a piece of that pie. Is that one available?”

  “Sorry. It’s earmarked for a friend. Didn’t I see you pacing in front of the café this morning? Why didn’t you come inside?”

  Natalie shifted her daughter from one hip to the other. “Long story. Can I ask a favor? Beg one, really?”

  “What kind of favor?” I asked, suddenly suspicious.

  “Down!” Ollie wriggled like she had ants in her pants.

  It was becoming clear to me that she didn’t speak in anything other than exclamations.

  As Natalie set her down, I was relieved to see that the pale pink polish on one of Natalie’s toenails was chipped, and that a fine layer of dust had settled on her white sandals. Maybe she was human and not some sort of Stepford mom.

  As Ollie toddled toward a stroller parked near the teeter-totter, Natalie said, “Will you save me a piece of blackbird pie tomorrow? My mother keeps Ollie on Fridays, and I won’t be able to get to the café until after nine. I’m afraid you’ll sell out before then.”

  In her eyes I saw a flash of desperation and something else that made me take a step back. “Are you … a Linden?”

  “I am.” Her head tipped in confusion. “Natalie Linden Walker.”

  I noted with interest that she didn’t sound pleased by the fact.

  “What gave it away?” she asked as she kept close watch on her daughter.

  Ollie had plopped herself in the dirt and was happily pushing it around with a toy backhoe while making vrooming noises.

  “The shape and color of your eyes. I saw almost the exact same pair a couple hours ago when Doc Linden came by the café. How are you related to him?”

  It was her turn to take a step back, her expression turning wary. “I’m his daughter.”

  “Daughter?” Why hadn’t anyone ever told me I had an aunt? Feeling a mix of confusion and anger, I added it to the other secrets that had been kept from me, tossing it like an old bone onto a growing pile of family perplexities.

  The look in her brown eyes reminded me of a startled doe as she said, “He went to the café to talk to you? Why?”