Midnight at the Blackbird Cafe

by Heather Webber

  I vaguely remembered that day. I’d been six, and Mama had made me wear a helmet, elbow pads, and knee pads—and had made Daddy run alongside me at all times.

  “I’ve been working on it on and off for years. Picking it up, setting it aside. I could never bring myself to finish it, and I think that was due to us being…” She trailed off.

  I waited for her to find the right word, curious to see what she’d come up with to describe our troubled relationship.

  “Disconnected,” she said. “The time finally came for me to finish it, which I did last night when I added this bit here.” She tapped a quilt block.

  I leaned forward. “Is that … is that the duck bib I made?” It sure looked like it. The colors were the same, and it even had the striped trim.

  “I bought it at Hodgepodge.”

  “Why?”

  “Full circle,” Mama said. She tapped another block. “This here is your first bib. I made it for you not long after you were born.”

  My eyes widened when I saw the pattern. Ducklings.

  “We’ve come full circle, you and me. Right now seems like the perfect time start a new circle. A new beginning. I love you, Natalie Jane. Always have, always will. Y’hear?”

  I wiped away tears. “I hear, Mama.”

  26

  Anna Kate

  Much to my surprise, Gideon showed up at the café on Saturday for coffee. I hadn’t thought I’d see him this morning, because of our date later tonight.

  It was hard not to smile just thinking about it.

  “You cannot possibly cram one more person in that side yard.” The screen door slammed behind him, and he went straight to the mug shelf.

  I grabbed a coffee pot. “I think there are people willing to challenge that theory.”

  Eventually, I was going to have to start easing the birders out to reclaim the yard. I had a dozen recommendations for places to stay, with the Pavegeaus’ homestead at the top of the list.

  Gideon set the mugs on the counter. “How’s Doc feeling? I heard he went back to work yesterday for a few hours.”

  “He’s holding steady. He missed his patients, and being cooped up was suffocating him. He’s started the search for someone to take over the practice and already has a few good candidates.”

  I barely heard footsteps on the deck before Jena and Bow came in the back door. Jena wore a red, white, and blue tunic and had flag barrettes in her hair. “I do so love this holiday,” she trilled as she flew around, putting her purse away and grabbing an apron.

  “I’m sure they couldn’t tell,” Bow said, an eyebrow arched.

  “The sass with this one.” She smiled fondly at him, then turned on Gideon. “Nice to see you here this morning. I was startin’ to forget what you looked like.”

  He said, “I’ve been around. I was here yesterday.”

  Jena faced me, then smirked. “Is that so?”

  “Don’t let him get off so easily,” I said. “That was the first time I’d seen him in a good week.”

  Bow slipped an apron over his head, then clapped Gideon on his back. “Don’t go giving the boy a hard time. You know he was nervous to ask Anna Kate about buying the café.”

  “Wait, you knew he wanted the café?” I asked.

  Jena checked on the biscuits in the oven. “Of course, sugar. He asked Zee to sell at least once a month since he had that dream to reunify the properties. Only made sense he was going to ask you, too.”

  I lifted an eyebrow. “So much for your intuition.”

  Her musical laughter filled the kitchen. “It wasn’t my place to tell you. It was Gideon’s. Since he’s here, I’m assuming he’s made an offer?” She tipped her head, eyebrows raised with anticipation.

  “I made one,” he said.

  “And?” Bow asked, looking between Gideon and me.

  “I asked if Anna Kate wanted to buy Hill House.”

  Jena comically stumbled to a halt. She put her hand on her chest. “What’s this now?”

  He shrugged. “I think Anna Kate belongs here in Wicklow. My dream didn’t say I had to be the one to reunify the properties. Maybe it was a dream meant for Anna Kate all along.”

  “What did you say to that, Anna Kate?” Bow asked.

  “I said no, that’s what. And I haven’t decided what to do with the café, so don’t ask. Technically, it’s not even mine yet, so it’s pointless to even be talking about this right now. I just want to focus on running the café until the end of the month, and then I’ll go from there.”

  I had a little less than four weeks left here, and I didn’t want to spend the whole time discussing the sale of the café.

  Mostly because I didn’t want to sell, but I hadn’t yet figured out how to keep it.

  I saw the worried look Jena shared with Bow, and sighed. I didn’t expect them to understand the bind I was in. I threw a look out the window, toward the mulberry trees. I knew the trees would wither and die without the love in the pies, but I still wondered what would happen to the blackbirds if the passageway closed.

  My chest ached as it swelled with emotion. I had the uneasy feeling that if the trees were left to die that the blackbirds would never return to Wicklow. Why would they? They’d have no songs to sing if there were no pies being made.

  Blinking away a sudden sheen of tears, I wished for more guidance from the blackbirds. I wanted to know what would happen to them and not just guess at their fate. I needed to ask them—and could only hope they would somehow provide an answer.

  Gideon rinsed his cup, put it in the dishwasher. “I’ll pick you up at four, Anna Kate? That good with you?”

  “Perfect,” I said, glad my voice hadn’t cracked.

  “Pick you up?” Jena said, curiosity lifting her voice an octave.

  “Anna Kate’s been begging for a taste of my fried chicken,” he said. “I thought I’d indulge her. We’re going to have a picnic at the courthouse before the fireworks.”

  Bow nodded approvingly. “I’ve had your chicken. I can see why she’d beg.”

  I shook my head at their teasing and went for a coffee refill.

  Jena said, “You know, Gid, I’ve been thinking on that dream you had.”

  “What about it?” he asked.

  “What if the dream was meant for you and Anna Kate?” She took hold of my hand and dragged me toward him, tucking me right up close to his side. She put my hand on his, then covered our hands with her own. “There’s another way to unify these properties you two haven’t given thought to yet.” Clearly pleased with herself, she smiled broadly. “If I was a bettin’ woman, I’d lay odds that your granddaddy was planting seeds in that dream, Zee watered them, and now it’s up to you two to see if they take root.”

  * * *

  Later that afternoon, I sat cross-legged on the stone bench in the garden, staring at the mulberry trees. A male cardinal, a wren, and the phoebe with the crooked wing picked at the ground under the trees, probably hoping to find a wayward berry. What Summer and I hadn’t harvested had eventually fallen to the ground. Squirrels, chipmunks, and birds had feasted. The remnants had eventually broken down and seeped into the earth, spreading love back to the roots of the trees.

  Now it’s up to you two to see if they take root.

  I wished Jena had kept her comments to herself. As soon as the words had come out of her mouth, Gideon and I had jumped apart as though poked with a cattle prod. We bumbled goodbyes and he left quickly. It had taken everything in me not to lash out at Jena.

  As much as she was only trying to help, I had enough pressure on me without throwing my feelings for Gideon into the mix.

  “I don’t know what to do,” I said to the mulberry trees. “How do I decide?”

  If I stayed, I’d let down my mother.

  If I left, I’d let down Zee and the blackbirds.

  “What happens to you if there’s no pie?” I had the awful image of the tips of the blackbirds’ wings browning and curling. Suddenly queasy, I banished the image f
orever.

  The leaves of the lemon balm shuddered, catching my attention. I glanced over and saw Mr. Cat sitting there, flicking his tail back and forth. I immediately grew concerned for the birds under the trees, but he seemed disinterested in them. His focus was on me.

  “I don’t suppose you have any answers, do you?”

  The phoebe flew over and landed on a lemon balm stalk and started singing.

  Mr. Cat tipped his head, looked at the bird, then turned and walked away.

  I heard a creaking noise as Gideon came through the back gate, a basket in his hands. He called out a hello to Mr. Boyd, who sat by the back fence, his nose in a book. Mr. Boyd lifted his head and waved. He had plans to join Faylene later on to watch the fireworks. I’m not sure they needed to watch, because there were plenty of sparks shared between them. They’d been spending a lot of time together, and it had been sweet to see them falling for each other.

  “How’d the T-shirt sales go?” Gideon asked me as he came closer.

  “Sold out within an hour.”

  “An hour? That’s amazing. Which one went first? Come on, it was the ‘Flock Off’ tee, wasn’t it?”

  I laughed, thinking of Seelie’s horrified expression when she’d seen that particular logo. “Actually it was the Blackbird Café shirts.”

  He dipped his head in acceptance. “I shouldn’t be surprised by that.” He held up the basket. “Are you ready to go? The sooner we leave, the sooner you’ll see what I packed.”

  “There’s more than chicken in there?”

  “So much more.”

  I quickly grabbed the cooler that I’d left on the deck, bid goodbye to the zucchini plants, and said, “Then let’s get going.”

  Out on the main street large groups of people walked toward the courthouse with blankets and coolers and folding chairs. There was an electric energy in the air, one full of excitement and anticipation.

  Most of the shops along the street had closed early, but colorful awnings flapped in the breeze, adding to the joyous feeling. Most of the awnings were new—added during grand openings and reopenings. There were two new restaurants and at least a half dozen shops, including a book shop, a candle shop, and a yarn store.

  “You’re quiet,” Gideon said.

  “Just thinking.”

  “About what Jena said earlier?”

  I practically gave myself whiplash turning to face him. “No, about the town. How it’s come alive. It almost feels like it’s exhaling a sigh of relief.”

  “Oh.”

  I set my hand on his arm. “Did you want to talk about what Jena said earlier?”

  “I mean, we don’t have to. She was just hypothesizing.”

  “Right. Exactly. Hypothesizing.”

  Fireworks went off in the distance, a high-pitched whistle followed by distinct popping noises—people were overeager to get the party started.

  “But…” He looked at me. The molten lava was back in full force. “All I’m going to say is if Granddaddy and Zee were matchmaking, they did a really good job.”

  I went as warm as that lava in his eyes. “I—”

  A flash of quick-moving light on my left snagged my attention, and I stepped aside near a row of knee-high shrubs separating two storefronts.

  “What is it?” he asked, following my gaze.

  “Did you see that?”

  “See what?”

  “This is going to sound crazy, but I could have sworn I saw Mr. Cat run behind those buildings with a sparkler in his mouth.”

  Gideon didn’t hesitate to jump the shrubs to take a look. I waited for him on the sidewalk, and a moment later he was back. “I took a good look around, but I didn’t see anything. Are you sure it was Mr. Cat?”

  “Hard to tell because of the building shadows,” I said. “Do you think we should go look for him? I mean, that can’t be safe.”

  Gideon said, “A cat isn’t going to hold on to something that would burn him. He’d drop it real quick if the sizzle got too close for comfort. Wouldn’t he?”

  We were still debating whether to form an all-out search party when we saw Mr. Cat walking toward us on the sidewalk, no sparkler in sight. About ten feet away, he took an abrupt right, turning up a narrow alleyway that ran between the ice cream shop and new arts and crafts store.

  “I guess there’s no need to worry after all,” I said as we turned toward the courthouse.

  Gideon looked over his shoulder. “That is one strange cat.”

  I laughed. “He is, but I’ve grown fond of him.”

  Ahead, four food trucks were parked at the curb in front of the courthouse, and at least two dozen booths had been set up on the lawn, selling everything from popcorn to fresh vegetables. A firework whizzed into the air, exploded, and filled the sky with colorful glitter that would have been much prettier if it were dark.

  Gideon and I took our time browsing booths, lingering over small talk with the vendors, who were excited by the turnout. We didn’t pick up our earlier conversation on what Jena had said, and I was grateful for the reprieve.

  As we made our way toward the amphitheater, I spotted Faylene waving her arms, trying to get our attention.

  “Yoo-hoo! Anna Kate, Gideon! Over here!” she yelled.

  “Annkay!” Ollie shouted, mimicking Faylene’s tone of voice.

  I was happy to see that Natalie and Ollie shared a blanket with Cam. Natalie hadn’t spoken too much about the mountain man, but I knew she was fond of him. Whether it was only friendship between them or something more, it was nice to see her smiling.

  Ollie jumped to her feet as Gideon led me toward Faylene’s landing zone.

  “Hi!” Ollie said as I scooped her up to give her a hug.

  I looked at Natalie. “Don’t tell me she’s dropped the second hi.”

  “It vanished a day or two ago,” Natalie said.

  I rested my forehead against Ollie’s. “First the full-arm wave and now this. I can’t handle you growing up so fast, Ollie.”

  She cupped my face with her soft hands and smiled. “Hi!”

  “Hi, Ollie.” I hugged her close and didn’t let go until she started wiggling.

  She’d grown so much in only six weeks. How many of her milestones was I going to miss while I was away? In a blink, she would be graduating high school. I glanced at Natalie, and she immediately stood up when she saw the tears in my eyes.

  She was on her way over to me when someone yelled my name.

  I turned.

  “Anna Kate!” Mr. Boyd huffed and puffed with exertion as he beckoned. “Come quick.”

  “What is it?” I ran toward him.

  “The café’s on fire!”

  27

  “The fire came as a shock,” Jena Barthelemy said. “But maybe, on closer look, it was a blessing in disguise.”

  “How so?” the reporter asked. Mesmerized by her lilting voice, he’d long stopped taking notes.

  Dark eyes full of wisdom held him captive. “Sometimes, it takes almost losing something to realize exactly how important it is to you.”

  Anna Kate

  My heart pounded as my gaze went to the sky. A skinny plume of black smoke rose above the café.

  Gideon took hold of my hand, and we started running. Sirens wailed in the distance.

  I stumbled on a crack in the sidewalk, but Gideon held me steady.

  Please let the trees be okay, please, I silently pleaded. The café was a good distance from them, but fires could spread easily. And please let all the mulberry preserves be okay.

  Please, let it all be okay. Because I wasn’t ready to say goodbye. Not to the customers who’d become friends, not to the café, and not to Zee’s garden. Not to any of it.

  Not yet.

  Please, not yet.

  Gideon kept tight hold of my hand as we weaved around families and friends on their way to enjoy their night, while I ran toward home.

  Home.

  Steeling myself, I looked ahead to the café. From afar, it didn�
��t look like anything untoward had happened, and I half expected to see Mr. Lazenby waiting on my arrival, but the bench in front of the café was empty.

  A fire truck idled at the curb, and a small crowd of people had gathered.

  I didn’t see any flames or anything unusual at all. The café looked … fine.

  “Where’s the fire?” I asked, breathing hard, my lungs stressed from the exercise. I wiped sweat off my face and looked around.

  A firefighter, a young man who’d eaten at the café a few times, stepped forward. “It was in the backyard, ma’am. It’s out now. Mr. Boyd saw the flames, and he and a bunch of other birdwatchers banded together to put out the flames using a garden hose and blankets.”

  Small towns. I was growing fond of them, too. How else would this firefighter even know Mr. Boyd?

  As the young man led us around the café, he added, “Due to their quick actions the damage was limited to the deck.”

  The gate was open and as we went through it, my gaze went first to the mulberry trees. Branches waved in the breeze as if telling me they were just fine.

  I let out the breath I’d been holding and turned toward the deck.

  Inky puddles pooled along the pathway and the café’s foundation, and I did my best to dodge them as I carefully inched forward, trying to take it all in.

  There was nothing but blistered, blackened blocks of wood where the stairs had once been. The deck itself was blackened, too, but that looked to be more from soot than fire damage. All in all, it wasn’t too bad. The deck and brick could be power-washed. The stairs replaced. I could fix this. It could have been so much worse.

  Relieved, I let my gaze wander. That’s when I saw the zucchini plants. I ran over to them and dropped to my knees in front of their remains. There was little left. Charred stems and a wet, soggy pile of ash and sorrow.