The Sugarhouse Blues

by Mariah Stewart

  “Aunt Cara was awesome. She hit a home run.”

  “She hit two home runs,” Des corrected her. “And she was awesome.”

  “So what else was so much fun that it was the best party you ever went to?” Allie prodded.

  “I learned how to throw horseshoes—that’s sort of a game—and I learned how to row a boat. There’s a little pond out by the woods and I swung on a rope over the water, but I didn’t jump in. Some of the other kids did, though.”

  Allie toyed with Nikki’s hair while they chatted, and while Allie appeared to be totally present, there was something almost foreign in her expression.

  “Oh, and I ate like—I hate to say this about myself, but I ate like a little piggy. I ate all day long.” Nikki began to run down the list on her fingers. “I had a burger. I had a piece of chicken. I had roasted carrots and potato salad that had green beans cut up in it, and I had regular salad, for like, fiber. Then I had strawberry shortcake. Oh, and a cupcake. I gained five pounds today, I just know it.”

  “I’m amazed you didn’t throw up, all that eating and rope swinging and tossing horseshoes.”

  “I know, Mom, right?” Nikki yawned.

  “Nik,” Des said, “could it be you’re actually running out of energy?”

  She nodded. “I’m going to bed. Besides, Mom was sick and she should be sleeping.” Nikki kissed first her mother, then her aunt, then stumbled on her way to her room.

  “She’ll be asleep by the time her head hits the pillow.”

  “I’m sure. Isn’t that your cue to follow suit?” Allie leaned back against her pillow.

  “Not until you tell me why you didn’t come to Seth’s.”

  “Since when do I answer to you?”

  “Since you were visibly upset after that thing with Ben in the park. Since I’m still your sister and I love you.”

  “How could you? I’m not a nice person, Des.”

  “Sometimes that’s true, but not always.” Des moved closer to Allie and put her arms around her. “You’re my sister, and I love you. I always will, Al.”

  “I’ve been so mean to you,” Allie reminded her.

  “True. You have—and I love you in spite of it.”

  “You heard what I said to Ben today.” Allie began to cry. “Talk about being insensitive.”

  “You didn’t say it, Allie. You caught yourself before the words came out.”

  “But he knew what I’d been going to say. He knew, and it hurt him. Of course it hurt him, his only son—his only child—died.” Fat tears ran down her face. “Oh, Des, that little boy was so adorable. And he had this beautiful tiny little smile and the biggest eyes. It’s wrong that he died.”

  Des sat back and stared at Allie. “Wait. How would you know what he looked like? That accident happened long before we moved to Hidden Falls.”

  “I saw his picture.” She sniffed and reached for another tissue from the box on the bedside table.

  “Where?”

  “On Ben’s mantel.”

  “Okay. Do I have to ask, or are you going to tell me why you were in Ben’s house?”

  “Apartment. And I went there to apologize.”

  “Allie, that was very big of you. I’m sure he appreciated—”

  Allie’s laugh was harsh. “Yeah, right, after he ripped me a new one, he showed his appreciation by showing me the door. He called me several names, which I would not repeat in front of my daughter, and when I told him how terrible I felt, he accused me of making it all about me. About how bad I felt, about how sorry I was.” She brushed away the tears. “Well, of course I felt terrible, and of course I was sorry. I couldn’t even find the words to tell him how sorry I was.”

  “So I’m guessing he didn’t accept your apology.”

  “Showed me the door. After he showed me the picture of his son. It was one of the worst moments of my life.”

  “So you shut yourself in and drank all afternoon?”

  “What?” Allie sat up straight. “No. I didn’t drink at all. I just couldn’t face anyone. I felt like everyone could tell just by looking at me that I’m an insensitive bitch.” She drew an imaginary B on her forehead. “I know everyone hates me now. I hate me now.”

  “Al, no one hates you. Sweetie, I’m so sorry. God knows you have your moments, but I know you would never deliberately hurt anyone because of something like that. So I guess you left it—”

  “With me leaving and Ben slamming the door behind me.” Allie covered her face with her hands. “If you could have seen the look on his face when he opened the door and saw it was me. Like I was the most loathsome creature. You’re right, I have had my moments, but I’ve never felt as ashamed of myself as I felt standing in that man’s living room looking at a photo of his beautiful dead son.” She started to cry again. “God, what that man went through, losing his wife and his baby boy. I can’t even imagine how you live with something like that. And there I was, reminding him . . .”

  “Look, maybe in time, he’ll come to realize you didn’t mean to hurt him, that you didn’t think. Maybe in time he’ll get over it.”

  “I doubt it. I wouldn’t.” She blew her nose. “And I wouldn’t forgive me, either. Here’s the thing about Ben. There’s always been this sort of weird vibe—I know you’ve noticed it, everyone has. I don’t know why, but we set each other off. He thinks I did this because, hey, just one more way to tweak his nose.”

  “No way would he think that.”

  “He does. He said so.” She blew her nose again. “ ‘Nice, princess. Guess you told me, right? Way to get in the last word.’ ”

  “He did not say that.”

  “He did. Those were his words. That’s how low he thinks I am.” The tears began to fall again. “And maybe I am.”

  “You’re not, Al.”

  Allie pulled the sheet up around her abruptly. “I want to go to sleep. Could you hit the overhead light on your way out?”

  Des hesitated before pushing off the bed. “I know it seems like it now, but this will pass.”

  “I know you’re trying to be a good sister, and you are. I may not always act like it, but I do love you, Des. Even when I was a bitch to you, I still loved you.” Allie turned her back to the wall. “Now good night.”

  Des opened her mouth, but realizing there was nothing more to be said, turned off the light and went back to her room.

  As exhausted as she was, sleep wouldn’t come. The day had been too full. At two in the morning, she got up and turned on the shower, hoping a steady stream of hot water would help. When it hadn’t, she dried her hair, slipped into a nightshirt and her robe, and went downstairs into Barney’s sitting room, where she curled up on the love seat. Buttons followed, jumped up next to her, and they both finally fell asleep.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Des had expected Allie to languish for a few days after her confrontation with Ben, but surprise: First thing the next morning, she was downstairs and dressed before Des.

  “You’re up bright and early this morning,” Des noted.

  “Places to go, people to see,” Allie replied.

  “Are you having breakfast?”

  “I already ate.”

  Des watched as Allie prepared a to-go cup of coffee.

  “Where are you off to?”

  “Cara said Giovanni was starting the plaster repairs early this morning. I want to watch. I want to see how he does it.”

  “Planning on a second career once you return to L.A.?”

  “Just curious about how it’s done. And I want to know when it’s done so I can begin on the ceiling.”

  “So you’ve come around?”

  Allie turned and stared at Des blankly.

  “The last time we talked about the ceiling painting, you’d pretty much decided not to try.”

  “I changed my mind.”

  “May I ask why?”

  “Of course.” Allie leaned over the back of a chair that was pulled up to the table. “I did a lot of thinking
last night. Not just about Ben—and we’re not going there again, okay?—but about being here and why we’re here. I thought a lot about Dad, how the theater was where he got his first taste of acting and how it changed his life. Mom, too, but we both know she never had the same talent Dad had. She was a wannabe actress. She did okay in the roles she had, but let’s face it, she was never going to be Katharine Hepburn or Meryl Streep. Now, Dad could have been a for-real star, but he put his own ambitions aside to let Mom shine. So I do think he loved her, to answer one of your previous questions, but that’s not really what I was thinking about.”

  “Good, because you’ve lost me.”

  “Dad wanted us all here for a reason. And the reason wasn’t just to renovate the theater. He wanted us to know each other and to work together. Maybe even to learn something about ourselves and each other. You’ve done a great job keeping track of the money . . .”

  “Yeah, such a great job, we’re almost out of it.”

  “Not your fault. A million dollars doesn’t go as far as it used to. And no one could have predicted the roof leak. It’s set us back, but it isn’t going to ruin us. You will get money from the movie posters, and eventually, the book Barney and Nik are working on will bring in a few bucks. Not a windfall, certainly, but enough to pay a bill or two, and that’s what you were looking for for the immediate future, right?”

  Des nodded, still not sure where Allie was going, but she was willing to tag along.

  “And Cara’s done a great job keeping all the mechanicals for the building on track. She’s had some help from Joe—okay, a lot of help from Joe—but let’s face it, she has no background in construction. She asked a lot of questions and took the time to learn what she had to know so she could make good decisions. Again, yes, with Joe’s help, but still, you have to give her a lot of credit. She’s kept it all moving.

  “Which brings us to me.” Allie looked down for a moment, then met her sister’s gaze. “I haven’t been as engaged as you two have been. I haven’t taken this as seriously as you two have. I came here because if I didn’t, none of us would inherit a dime from Dad’s estate and Uncle Pete would have the honor of choosing which charity would get everything.”

  “Al, where are you going with this? What’s your point?”

  “My point is that it’s time for me to step up. I didn’t think I had anything to contribute. But I can paint those missing sections of the patterns on the ceiling, and I believe I can do just as good a job as anyone else, including the Balfour Group’s artist.” Allie’s chin jutted out with just a touch of defiance. “When I’m finished with that ceiling, no one is going to be able to come into that theater and tell the newly painted sections from the old.”

  “Wow. It’s the old Allie, full of confidence and fire. Welcome back. After last night, I was afraid that—”

  “We’re not talking about last night.”

  “Okay. But can we talk about what brought on this new wave of yes, I can?”

  “It’s like I said, I need to contribute. I need to be a part of the success of this venture, Des. This is what I can do.” She paused. “This is a legacy not just for Nikki, but for any kids you or Cara might have. And the legacy is not just the theater, it’s the town and the college and the park and everything that Reynolds and everyone else has contributed over the years. I want Nikki to know I was part of that. I don’t want to be like Mom. I don’t want to be a wannabe. I want Nikki to be proud of me.”

  “Wait, what? You’re nothing like Mom, Allie. And Nikki is proud of you. So am I.”

  “Don’t make me go for the tissues again, Des.”

  Des laughed, and Allie made a move to leave, picking up her bag from the window seat.

  “You know, Cara and I aren’t the only ones who might yet have kids. You’re still young enough to have another one or two.”

  Allie snorted. “Gosh, had I mentioned I was considering in vitro via sperm donor? No? I didn’t think so.” Laughing, she turned for the door. “Sorry, I’m done with that. No hot prospects in my future.”

  “If you could wait until I find something to put on my feet, I’ll go with you.”

  “You have two minutes. But that means you won’t have breakfast.”

  “I can grab a take-out sandwich from the Goodbye if I get hungry. I want to see what’s going on in the theater, too.” Des hurried from the kitchen and up to the second floor in search of her sandals. She was back down before the two minutes had expired in Allie’s mental clock.

  “I left a note for Nikki and Barney, though I suspect Barney is already out walking with her early-morning group.”

  “Nikki might sleep for a few more hours. She had a big day yesterday.”

  “It sounds like Seth’s party was the place to be. I’m sorry I missed it. It sounds like everyone had a great time.”

  “You’ll join us next year.”

  “You’re planning on next year already?”

  “Thinking about the possibilities.”

  “I think you’d make a great farm girl.”

  Des laughed. “I would. I love that place of Seth’s. I love the fields and the gardens and the orchard and the vineyard.”

  “And Seth?”

  “Could be headed in that direction.”

  “Wow. Who’da thunk it?”

  They crossed the street to the theater once traffic had cleared—the morning rush hour of seven cars—and walked past Joe’s truck and one other to the front door, which was unlocked. Once inside, they made their way into the lobby, where the scaffold had been completed and the lights were all ablaze. At the very top of the scaffold, Giovanni stood as confidently as he might stand in his own house. Next to him, on the platform, sat Cara.

  “Hey! What’s doin’ up there?” Des called.

  “Watching the master perform surgery on our ceiling.” Cara held up a camera. “And taking pictures so we’ll have them for the scrapbook.”

  “What scrapbook?” Allie asked.

  “The one I’m making chronicling the transformation of the Sugarhouse from empty and abandoned to Mama, look at me now.” She turned all the way around and asked, “Want to come up?”

  “Ah, no. No, thanks. It might disturb Giovanni,” Des said.

  “No disturbing me,” he told her without taking his eyes from the ceiling. “Unless you shake the platform.”

  “I’d like to come up,” Allie said.

  “You’re actually going up there again?” Des frowned. That would make two trips up for Allie. “How can you stand it?”

  “It’s something I really want to do. And it helps if you don’t look down.”

  “I’ll come down,” Cara said. “You can have my space on the platform.”

  Des watched Cara descend with all the grace of an acrobat.

  “You make that look so easy,” she said when Cara had landed on the ground.

  “It is easy.” Cara turned to Allie. “So have you decided to be our artist in residence?”

  Allie nodded. “Crossing my fingers and hoping for the best.”

  “I think it’s a brilliant idea that you had, and I have total confidence in you. It’s going to be beautiful.” Cara gave Allie an unexpected hug.

  “Thanks,” Allie said softly. “So how’s he doing up there?”

  “Amazing. Honestly, the sections he’s filled in so far are flawless. Except for the fact that the ceiling is blue and the plaster is white, you’d never be able to tell where it’s been repaired. It’s that smooth. It’s taking a lot of time, it’s slow going, but he’s just perfection.”

  “Take that, James Ebersol,” Des murmured.

  “I’ve never painted on plaster before.” Allie was staring up at the ceiling, where high above, Giovanni appeared oblivious to the conversation going on below, if in fact he could even hear them. “I think I’d like to go up and watch, see what the surface of the ceiling is like now that there’s some plaster on it. This is also a good time to get used to being up so high. Here goes . . .”
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br />   Allie placed her hands on the bottom rung of the scaffold and took a deep breath, then pulled herself up. A fascinated Des watched her sister climb to the top and lower her body to sit next to where the plaster wizard stood working with his hands over his head.

  “I’m just speechless,” Des said.

  “About what?” Cara’s gaze was still focused on the ceiling.

  “We’ve both always been so afraid of heights. I can’t believe she was able to just . . .” Des gestured toward the scaffold.

  “Mind over matter, Des.”

  They watched the scene overhead, the short, elderly bowlegged man whose hands worked magic with plaster, and the young woman, blond hair streaming over one shoulder, whose heart may have been pounding in fear, but who was apparently managing to hold a conversation nonetheless.

  “Well, I think I’m outta here. I’ve done my due diligence and watched the man do his thing. I’m so grateful we found him. He’s truly a master of his craft.” Cara looked around for the bag she’d brought with her earlier and found it near the bottom of the scaffold. “I guess I’ll see you back at the house.”

  Des nodded.

  “Hey, by the way, Joe and I had a blast yesterday. Your man really knows how to throw a party.”

  “Oh, he’s not really my . . .” she began to protest, then, when Cara raised an eyebrow, Des laughed. “Well, I guess he sorta is.”

  “He’s the real deal, Desdemona,” Cara told her.

  “I know.”

  “And for the record, Barney is over the moon.”

  “Why?”

  “She thinks she’s got us right where she wants us.”

  “Where’s that?”

  “Looking for a reason to stay in Hidden Falls.” Cara grinned and headed for the door. “And she might be right.”

  Des passed the better part of a half hour reading and responding to email and taking pictures of the interior of the theater to post on Instagram. Another ten minutes passed, and she decided she probably had better things to do than sit and wait for Allie to come down, so she called up to her sister.

  “Al, I’m going back to the house now.”