Silence filled the room.
Cara jumped in to kill the awkward moment. “So do you live in Hidden Falls, Mark?”
“Yes. Over on Third Street. Across from the old church.”
“Are you working this summer?” Des asked.
“I’m helping Uncle Seth out on his farm. He’s not really my uncle, but we all call him that, so . . .” Mark shrugged.
“It’s a beautiful farm. If you like being outdoors, you should have a good summer,” Des said.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Let’s get lemonade and go sit on the porch.” Nikki had apparently been quiet long enough. She filled two glasses with ice, then poured in lemonade and handed one to Mark. “My aunt Barney makes the best. I’m going to drink it all summer. Let’s go outside.”
Mark nodded a sort of see you to the sisters, then followed Nikki.
“She didn’t tell me about him.” Allie’s face was rigid. “I had no idea there was a guy . . .” She turned to Des and Cara. “Did you see the way he was looking at her?” Allie almost screeched. “Puppy dog eyes.”
“Of course he looks at her that way. What teenage boy wouldn’t fall all over her? She’s gorgeous and fun and funny and smart and lively and—”
“I know my daughter’s attributes, thank you.” Allie sat on the window seat. “She’s too young to have guys ‘falling all over her.’ ”
“She’s almost fifteen, Allie,” Des pointed out.
“I am aware of her age, Des,” Allie snapped. “And she’s still only fourteen. How old do you think he was? Eighteen?”
“He’s the same age as she is,” Des told her.
“How would you know?”
“Seth told me last night.”
“There’s a story we still have yet to hear,” Cara reminded her. “Where did you guys go? What’s going on with you two?”
Before Des could respond, Allie said, “Could we keep this conversation on track, please? My daughter hasn’t been here for four hours and some strange boy shows up looking for her? How does that happen?”
“Not by accident. Seth said they’ve been keeping up with each other on social media and that Mark knew Nikki would be coming today instead of Wednesday.”
“Well, isn’t that special. She could have mentioned it to me.”
“It’s not a big deal, Allie. He’s a good kid, and—”
“How do you know he’s a good kid? Because Seth said so?”
“Seth did say so, and I believe him. Allie, you act like the guy came in here with punk green hair smoking a joint and grabbing her butt.”
“Just because he didn’t doesn’t mean I trust him with my daughter.”
“Then trust her just a little. Trust her judgment. Sooner or later, you’re going to have to.”
Des leaned on the back of the chair next to the window seat where Allie sat and touched her sister’s hand.
Allie shook her head. “She’s so young.”
“She has to start to grow up sometime, Al. Be happy it’s here, where you are, and now, when she’s surrounded by people who would fall on the sword for her. You’ve given Nik all the tools. Trust her. You have no reason not to.”
Allie looked at Des with sad eyes and sighed loudly. For a moment, Des was afraid she was going to begin to wail.
“I’m not ready for her to have a boyfriend.”
“None of us are. But just be grateful the boy she seems to have her eye on is not that green-haired, pot-smoking, butt-grabbing—”
“Okay, okay, I get it.” Allie wadded up a napkin and threw it in Des’s direction.
* * *
To Allie’s mind, Mark had stayed too long, and Nikki spent too much time on the front porch with him in the dark. She had gone out once under the guise of offering more lemonade, and while she was there, she turned on the porch lights. She debated whether to watch TV with Des and Cara—which would give her cover while she waited for Nikki to come inside. Or she could go upstairs and go to bed.
Like that was going to happen with her fourteen-year-old daughter out on the front porch with a boy.
Allie excused herself from the kitchen and went up the back steps to her room. She gathered up towels that had been left on the floor after she got out of the shower, and a glass that had fallen onto the floor from the nightstand. She folded the throw that belonged on the chair and changed the sheets. She disposed of several empty vodka bottles and opened both windows, hoping to dispel the stuffy, slightly rank odor that hung in the air. There was just enough cross-ventilation that the breeze swept the staleness aside.
She bundled up her trash and took it downstairs to the large can, then went back upstairs to wait for her daughter.
“Mom? You awake?” Nikki rapped softly on Allie’s door not long after.
“Come on in.”
“What are you doing in here by yourself? Everyone’s downstairs binge-watching season one of The Blacklist.”
“Just a little tired tonight, that’s all.”
Nikki took out her phone and sat on the bed next to her mother. “I have pictures to show you. Here’s the spring dance Courtney and I went to.”
She held up the screen. Nikki and Courtney stood with their arms around each other, in dresses of similar style though different colors.
“You texted me that one. I remember asking about the dress because I didn’t recognize it.” Allie forced a smile. “You mentioned that Courtney’s mother took you both shopping for dresses.” She watched Nikki’s face for a sign that she knew that her best friend’s mother and her father were an item, but she saw nothing there.
“Right. This one—” Nikki swiped the screen. “This is from our class trip to Sacramento to the capitol building.”
Nikki had a seemingly endless stream of photos, and she showed Allie every one, sharing the highlights of her life since she’d returned to California after having spent spring break in Hidden Falls.
Nikki moved from the side of the bed to the chair, presumably to respond to a text. The toe of her foot hit the bag Allie had tucked away.
“Oh, sorry, Mom.” Nikki bent down to grab the bag, but when she picked it up, it was sideways, and several of the tracings fell out. “Mom, what’s this stuff?”
She held up Allie’s tracings.
“So pretty.” Nikki stared at them for a moment. “These look like the ceiling in the theater.”
“They are, sort of.” Allie reached for the bag but Nikki held on to it.
“Why do you have them?” Nikki took the rest of the tracings from the bag and looked them over.
“I had an idea about filling in the missing places on the designs, but in retrospect, it wasn’t a very good idea.” She reached again for the bag but Nikki ignored her.
“Did you make these?”
“Not freehand, but yes, I traced them. Like I said, it was a half-baked idea.”
“What was your idea?”
“Not a very good one. I scrapped it, so there’s no point in talking about it. Nik, put everything back in the bag and I’ll toss them. I meant to do that yesterday, but I forgot.”
“Can I have them?”
Allie laughed. “Why would you want them?”
“Because they’re pretty. I bet if these were painted like the ceiling, they’d look exactly like it.”
“Doubtful. Give ’em the old heave-ho.” Allie held out the wastepaper basket.
“No. You don’t want them, they’re mine now.” Nikki yawned. “I’m going to bed. I just wanted to come in and tell you how much I missed you and how happy I am to be here with you and everyone.”
“Everyone including Mark?”
“Sure. He’s the coolest guy.”
“What makes him cool?” Allie asked.
She seemed to ponder that for a moment. “He doesn’t try to be cool. He’s just himself. He’s not pushy or mean or anything. He’s just nice. We texted a lot when I was home. He has interesting ideas, and when we talk about things, he always asks me what I thi
nk. Courtney thinks he’s—” She stopped and looked away.
“Courtney thinks he’s what?”
“She thinks he’s corny and geeky because he studies and he’s crazy smart and ’cause he doesn’t smoke . . . anything. She thinks that makes him uncool, but I think it’s just the opposite. It’s like he knows he doesn’t have to be like everyone else. He’s okay being who he is.”
“What’s Courtney doing this summer?”
Nikki half shrugged but didn’t reply.
“Isn’t she your best friend?”
“Not so much anymore.” Nikki yawned again. “I’m going to bed, Mom. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“How ’bout I come and tuck you in?”
Nikki rolled her eyes. “I’m almost fifteen. I tuck myself in these days.” She kissed her mother, and Allie hugged her long and hard before kissing the side of her face.
“Sweet dreams, baby.”
“You, too, Mom. See you in the morning.”
Nikki padded out of the room on bare feet. Allie heard the occasional squeak of a floorboard as her daughter made her way to her room down the hall and around the corner.
Allie picked up the one tracing that had fallen under the chair and placed it on the bedside table, wondering what was going on between Courtney and Nikki, who’d been best friends since before Nikki moved into Clint’s house to be closer to the tony private school he’d enrolled her in before even checking with Allie. The girls would either make up or they wouldn’t. Allie had never been all that fond of Courtney, though she’d never told her daughter, since she knew one of the golden rules of parenthood was to never express strong dislike for your child’s friends. To Allie, Courtney had always seemed to lean a little too far into mean-girl territory. She’d heard Courtney talk about other girls when they weren’t around. She’d once asked Nikki how she’d feel if she found out that Courtney said such things about her behind her back. Predictably, Nikki had been insulted.
“Mom, she’s my best friend. She wouldn’t talk about me.”
“I bet those other girls think she’s their friend, too.”
“Mom. Stop.”
Allie had dropped it, but she never did warm to the girl.
Well, not her problem. Nikki was three thousand miles from Courtney and Courtney’s mother. Of course, Nik was only a few blocks away from a boy who had puppy eyes when he looked at her. Allie got into bed and turned off the light, not quite sure who—Courtney or Mark—posed the greater danger to her girl’s heart.
* * *
The following afternoon, all five Hudson women sat in the kitchen, eating breakfast and enjoying the chatter. Times like this, when they were all together, made this house, these women, this place, feel like home.
“I need a job,” Nikki announced. “All of my friends have summer jobs. I should pull my own weight.”
“What kind of a job are you thinking about?” Des asked.
“I don’t know. What’s around here?”
“Well, I don’t know about Hidden Falls in general, but I do know of someone who’s writing a book who needs an assistant.” Des winked at Barney.
“Aunt Des, that would be perfect for me.” Nikki put down her spoon, her eyes shining. “I’m a really good writer.”
“I believe the job your aunt Des has in mind would be more of a research position to start with, am I correct, Des?” Barney asked.
“You are.”
“I can do that. I’m really good at looking stuff up.” Nikki was definitely getting into the idea.
“Not so much looking stuff up but more like searching for source material,” Barney said, amending her comment.
“OMG, even better! Like being a detective, right?” Nikki added confidently, “I’ve never lost at Clue.”
“Well, those are certainly skills one would need.” Barney’s smile went all the way to her eyes.
“Where do I apply? Who’s the writer?”
“Me,” Barney told her. “I’m writing a book about the theater, and I need help locating photographs and putting together stories from people in town who were there when it opened. There aren’t too many of those folks left, but I know who they are and where to find them.”
“What would I have to do?” Nikki was all ears.
“You’d be interviewing them, asking them to share their photos and their stories, their memories. I’ve tracked down a dozen or so of them but I know there are more. Think you’re up to talking to a lot of old folks about old times? Even folks older than me?” Barney asked.
“Oh yes, I’d love that. Think of all the stories I could hear.” Nikki looked off into space as if she were imagining exactly that. “But it doesn’t sound like a full-time job.”
“I think it could be as part-time or as full-time as you make it. You in?”
Nikki nodded. “I’m in. I promise I’ll do a great job. When do I start, Aunt Barney?”
“Tomorrow, if you like. Today’s your first day back, so we’ll relax. But we’ll put you to work first thing tomorrow. I’ll show you some boxes of old photos I’d like you to go through and pull out any you think are connected to the theater. Then we’ll try to identify some of the people in the photos, see if they’re still around, and if so, ask if they’d like to talk about their memories.”
“Piece of cake,” Nikki said confidently. “Will I be paid for this?”
“I was thinking of this as more of an intern-type position, but we can negotiate.”
Des had watched the exchange with amusement. Nikki’s enthusiasm for everything she did was infectious.
“And when you’re done helping Barney, you can come to the theater and catalog the old films and movie posters,” Des suggested. “We’re going to want to sell some of them.”
“You already did get some bids on those posters for those old horror films from the dealer in Las Vegas,” Cara reminded her.
“Not enough. I’m going to negotiate a steeper price. I could tell he was interested when I spoke with him on the phone this morning, but I think he was lowballing me to see if I had any idea what they’re really worth. I turned him down, but he’ll be back.”
“What horror movies?” Nikki asked.
“Frankenstein and Dracula. The original ones,” Des told her.
“OMG, really? Vampires are so hot now, right?” Nikki’s eyes widened. “If you had the films, you could do a spooky movie night on Halloween.”
“That’s actually a good idea,” Barney said.
“We might have the films. There are so many of those metal canisters around, I never did get to look at all of them,” Des said.
“I will put that on my list of things to do.” Nikki took out her phone and made a note. “I’m totally into this. The theater is part of my DNA, right? And besides, I like to act. I had a role in my eighth-grade play, remember, Mom?”
“I do, indeed.” Allie looked up from her coffee. “Auntie Em in The Wizard of Oz.”
“It really would have been nice if we’d been able to do some summer stage at the Sugarhouse this year, but with the scaffold up, there’s no way we could risk the liability,” Des said.
“Why’s there a scaffold?” Nikki asked.
“Because someone is going to have to go up to the ceiling and make the repairs,” Cara told her. “We do have someone who’s going to start fixing the plaster next week, but we’re still looking for an artist.”
Nikki looked across the table to her mother.
“Didn’t you show them?” Nikki asked.
“Nikki—” Allie tried to wave her off.
“My mom did the most amazing thing. She has these tracings of the ceiling patterns that she made so she could use them to complete the missing pieces of the designs.” Nikki turned to her mother. “That’s what you meant, right?”
“Nik, you haven’t even seen the ceiling. You don’t know how complicated it could be.” Allie rose and went to the sink, turning her back on the others.
“I don’t know that it’s all th
at complicated after all,” Des said. If she was ever going to give Allie the credit she deserved, it was now. “I saw the tracings Allie did. The idea is really out of the box, but I think it could work. It’s definitely worth trying.”
“Des, you don’t have to—”
“Where are the tracings you made?” Des asked.
“I have them.” Nikki jumped from her seat and flew up the back steps.
“You didn’t tell us you were working on a solution,” Cara said. “Why didn’t you say something?”
“She did say something.” Des spoke before Allie could make an excuse. “She said something to me, and I blew her off without thinking it through. I insulted her and I made her feel like it was a stupid idea because I was upset about something else. But it’s the best chance we have right now, and Allie, I’m sorry I shot you down without even giving it fair consideration.”
“It’s okay, Des. I told you, it’s not a big deal. I’m over it.”
“Here, look at what Mom did.” Nikki laid the tracings out on the table, then she took out her phone. “Look, this is a picture I took of the ceiling when I was here before.” She enlarged the detailing as best she could, but it was distorted.
“We have better photos.” Des took off for the office. When she returned to the kitchen, she had Seth’s photos in her hand. “Seth took some close-up shots. Here’s one of the missing sections, and here’s one of an area that was not affected by the leak.”
“Aunt Cara, see how much Mom’s look like the photos?” Nikki hung over Cara’s shoulder.
Cara picked up several of the tracings and compared them to the photos.
“You know, Des is right. This could work.” Cara tossed the photos onto the table. “I say Allie should see what she can do.”
“Mom’s a really good artist,” Nikki told them. “She painted a mural in my room when I was little. It was a forest, and she painted all the little animals in it, but they were sort of hidden among the leaves and the flowers so they were camouflaged. So if you looked at it from one direction, you could see the animals. If you looked at it from a different place in the room, they were hidden. It was the coolest thing in the world. I used to fall asleep pretending I was in that forest with all my little animal friends. It was the best. Here, look. I have a picture.” She scrolled through the photos on her phone again.
The Sugarhouse Blues Page 23
