Goodbye Café

Book : The Hudson Sisters Series

by Mariah Stewart

Genres: Siblings; Women's Fiction; Cozy Mystery

Synopsis

From Mariah Stewart, New York Times best-selling author of the Chesapeake Diaries series, comes the next audiobook in her popular Hudson Sisters series, which follows a trio of reluctant sisters who set out to fulfill their father’s dying wish and discover themselves in the process in this “sweet reminder of the importance of family” (First for Women).

California girl Allie Hudson Monroe can’t wait for the day when the renovations on the Sugarhouse Theater are complete so she can finally collect the inheritance from her father and leave Pennsylvania. After all, her life and her 14-year-old daughter are in Los Angeles.

But Allie’s divorce left her tottering on the edge of bankruptcy, so to keep up on payments for her house and her daughter’s private-school tuition, Allie packed up and flew out east. But fate has a curveball or two to toss in Allie’s direction — she just doesn’t know it yet.

She hadn’t anticipated how her life would change after reuniting with her estranged sister, Des, or meeting her previously unknown half-sister, Cara. And she’d certainly never expected to find small-town living charming. But the biggest surprise was that her long-forgotten artistry would save the day when the theater’s renovation fund dried up.

With opening day upon the sisters, Allie’s free to go. But for the first time in her life, she feels like the woman she was always meant to be. Will she return to the West Coast and resume her previous life, or will the love of “this amazing, endearing family of women” (Robyn Carr, number-one New York Times best-selling author) be enough to draw her back to the place where the Hudson roots grow so deep?

Release date: March 26, 2019

Publisher: Gallery Books

Print pages: 416

Sample

The Goodbye Café

CHAPTER ONE

At the earliest light of a summer day that promised to be even hotter than the record-breaking heat of the day before, Allie Hudson Monroe made her quiet way through the otherwise deserted streets of Hidden Falls, Pennsylvania. She strode with purpose, a large canvas bag over her shoulder, toward the intersection of Hudson Street and Main, where she crossed, and once on the other side, entered the Sugarhouse, the 1920s Art Deco theater that was her family’s legacy.

Built by her great-grandfather and bequeathed to her and her two sisters by their father, Franklin “Fritz” Hudson, the Sugarhouse had been boarded up for years. Since Fritz’d specified in his will that his three daughters had to live together in the family home on Hudson Street and restore the theater before they could receive their generous individual inheritances, his “wish” had actually been more of an ultimatum. Only the thought of receiving the promised windfall could have coaxed Allie to leave her California home and face the heat and humidity of a summer spent in the Pocono Mountains along with her estranged sister, Des, and her newly discovered half sister, Cara. Fortunately, life in Hidden Falls had turned out to be much more interesting than Allie’d ever imagined. She and Des were on their way to burying long-held resentments on both their parts, and she’d found Cara—whose mother may or may not have been married to their father, the paperwork on that being a little shady—to be amicable and open to their new relationship. Best of all, perhaps, was discovering their father had a sister they’d never met. Their aunt—christened Bonnie but called Barney by just about everyone who knew her—was delightful, welcoming, and loving to her nieces. While Allie was still finding her way, navigating carefully through these new relationships, she was also finding untapped riches within herself.

She’d even found herself a little short on the snark that had been one of her least endearing personality traits. Maybe even a kinder, gentler Allie, though nothing was a sure thing.

As she’d done for the past week, after stepping inside the theater, Allie left the front door unlocked for the contractors who were working on the building. She turned on only enough lights to guide her to her destination: the scaffold that had been erected in the middle of the lobby. Shingles blown off the roof during a fierce summer storm had resulted in a leak in the ceiling and caused considerable damage to its hand-painted motifs. Allie had accepted the challenge of restoring them, and she would, one way or another.

One way would have been to hire an artist with sufficient talent to repair the intricately painted designs on the ceiling. Another would be for Allie, who wasn’t completely lacking in artistic ability, to make the repairs herself. Since there were no funds for the former, the latter was going to have to do. Though she’d majored in art and had had some training, she’d never fully tapped into her innate artistic talent. This was her chance to prove to herself—and everyone else—that she had more going for her than just a pretty face and a stunning figure. Only to herself did Allie admit she’d skated on her appearance for far too long. She was eager to find what else she had to offer, especially now that her fourteen-almost-fifteen-year-old daughter was with her for the summer and striving to find herself as well. It was suddenly more important than ever to be the kind of mother, the kind of role model, she wanted for Nikki: the happy, loving mother, and the strong, self-reliant woman Allie and Des had never had in Nora, their own mother.

The air inside the theater was hot, close, and dusty from the work the contractors were doing in the basement: repairing a recently discovered section of concrete wall that had been weakened by the same storm that had damaged the ceiling. Allie stifled four sneezes that followed in quick succession as she made her way into the lobby.

She took a really deep breath, then sneezed several times more, before staring straight up.

“It’s fine,” she whispered to herself as if encouraging a small child. “It’s not all that high. Not high like, oh, a twenty-story building might be. You’ve done this before. All you have to do is put one foot in front of the other and climb.” She straightened her shoulders before adding, “Just don’t look down.”

She shifted the canvas bag higher up on her shoulder before latching on to the lowest rung. One by one, sweating hand over sweating hand, one uncertain foot at a time, her heart crazily beating in her chest, Allie climbed the rungs until she reached the top platform. She couldn’t remember what had precipitated her fear of heights, she only knew it had always been with her. Des shared the same fear, one of the few things they acknowledged to have in common other than their parents.

“Don’t look down, girl, just don’t look down.” Allie sang softly to the tune she’d made up earlier in the week. “Everything’s okay as long as you don’t look down.”

She eased herself onto the edge of the platform, then carefully swung one leg over until she was straddling the plank. She wiped her palms on the red shorts she’d borrowed from Cara, still slightly annoyed that her sister’s size-six clothes actually fit her. Allie had always worn a four. She hadn’t been conscious of having gained weight, but there was no Pilates studio in Hidden Falls, no spin classes, none of the fixtures of her life in L.A. Walking trails (in this heat, are you kidding?), a track at the middle school (so not her style), and a gym if you wanted to drive two towns down the highway and work out with a bunch of sweaty strangers (no, thank you) were not an option. So when she needed a pair of old shorts to wear while she painted at the top of the theater, she’d had to borrow. She’d fully expected the pair Cara proffered to bag on her and require a belt to hold them up. She was appalled when she’d had to inhale to zip them. Since she was a full five inches taller than Cara, the shorts were really short. Which really wasn’t much of a concern because who did she see in Hidden Falls she’d like to impress with her mile-long legs? No one, that’s who.

She slowly lowered herself to sit on the edge of the plank, then paused to readjust the pins that held the coiled braid of her long, thick blond hair. She knew it was messy, but she’d never worn a braid until yesterday when she realized she had to come up with something better than the ponytail that skimmed the tops of the paint jars every time she moved her head. Nikki had suggested the braid, and at that point, Allie barely cared, as long as she could keep her hair out of the paint. For possibly the first time in her life, Allie was unconcerned with her appearance, her focus totally on her work.

She scooted forward to position herself directly under a white patch where a plaster repair had been made. There were areas where moisture had destroyed entire sections of the beautifully painted ceiling. Allie felt sick every time she looked at it, knowing it had been the handiwork of an artist who had known some limited fame during his lifetime, but who’d become well known as time went on. That he had a close personal relationship to Allie’s own family had made him even more of a favorite of hers: he’d courted and married a great-great-aunt.

When the theater was still quite new, the first Reynolds Hudson had employed Alistair Cooper, a young artist from the local college, to design and hand paint the ceiling. No one knows exactly how long it took Alistair to complete the work, but it was universally agreed that it was a thing of beauty. Geometric shapes, painted in vibrant yellow, green, gold, blue, and red, wound together, radiating out from the chandelier to create a glorious spectacle on the ceiling’s background of peacock blue. Alistair’d met the lovely Josephine Hudson and fallen in love, and once her parents had determined he was bound to be a famous artist, they’d permitted the two to marry.

“I’m not worthy,” Allie murmured as she prepared to go to work, lining up the jars next to her on the platform. Just the fact that she was attempting to re-create the beauty Alistair had envisioned made her feel like an impostor. “I seriously am not.”

She’d never try to restore the work freehand; she wasn’t so arrogant as to think she was Alistair’s equal. But she’d cleverly made tracings of his designs, then turned the tracings into stencils, which she then placed over the missing areas of the ceiling. She’d had the original paint colors matched as closely as could be done, so any minute difference was imperceptible from the floor below.

Allie cleared her throat before sliding a stencil from her bag. After carefully positioning it directly over her head, she taped it lightly to keep it in place.

“I feel like such a fraud,” she grumbled. “I can’t believe I have the audacity to even attempt this. Yet here I sit . . .”

She searched her bag for just the right brush, then opened the first jar. Taking a deep breath, she touched the brush to the paint, then leaned back as far as she could and began to fill in the center of the design with the pale yellow.

When the paint dried, she’d begin the border of blue, then outline it in gold to match the original. Taking her time, she painstakingly copied Alistair’s work. Ignoring the oppressive heat at the very top of the room, Allie focused all her attention on her task. She was so absorbed she didn’t hear the door of the theater open and close.

“Mom.” Allie’s daughter, Nicole—Nikki—stood at the bottom of the scaffold. “Can I come up?”

“I don’t know, can you?” Allie replied without looking down. Even from the top of the scaffold she heard Nikki’s deep sigh.

“May I come up?”

“You may if you wait a minute. Let me finish this one section.” Allie remained focused on the diamond shape she was completing.

A few minutes later, she called down, “Okay, now you may climb up, but take your time and be really careful.”

She’d barely gotten the words out when Nikki was scrambling across the platform, her long blond hair, so like her mother’s, flowing over one shoulder.

“You climb like a monkey.”

Nikki grinned. “Thanks. I’ve been practicing.”

“Oh really? When?” Allie moved her head slowly from side to side, trying to work out the kink that had settled in her neck.

“Mark and I raced up to the top the other day. I would have won but his arms and legs are longer than mine. I should have made him give me a handicap.” Nikki swung her legs over the side of the platform, making it sway slightly and forcing Allie’s stomach to flip.

“When were you and Mark in the theater together?” Allie frowned.

“Last week. Aunt Des was showing Mark’s uncle Seth the section you already finished. He was gobsmacked.” A smile spread across Nikki’s pretty face—so very much like Allie’s—as she looked up. “Everyone knows you’re doing an awesome job. When the paint dries, no one will be able to tell the difference between what you’ve done and the original.”

“I doubt that’s true, but thank you, sweetie.” Allie knew she was doing as good a job as anyone could possibly do, but all the same, her daughter’s words warmed her heart. Still, she harbored no illusions about her work: not freehand but with the use of props. But the bottom line was that it looked pretty darned good from the floor of the lobby. “So what are you up to this morning?”

“Mom, it’s almost noon.” Nikki was still looking up, her eyes studying the sections her mother had already painted.

“Seriously?” Allie frowned. It felt like she’d only been in the theater for a short time. And yet almost six hours had passed, which probably accounted for the fact that her neck and back were burning from the stress of having kept the same position all that time.

“You were up really early. I heard you leave but I was too tired to get up and go downstairs and have breakfast with you.”

“I wanted to get some time in here before it got too hot.” Allie wiped the back of her neck with a tissue she pulled from her bag. Her skimpy tank was stuck to her, front and back, so wet she could wring the sweat out, and now that work was no longer a distraction, she felt like a sticky wet mess. “I had no idea I was here so long. I’ve had enough for today.”

She glanced at her daughter.

“So what are you up to?” Allie repeated the question as she began to repack her bag.

“I wanted to ask if I could go out to Seth’s farm this afternoon.”

Allie raised an eyebrow. “Let me guess. Mark’s working with Seth today.”

Nikki nodded. “They’re making frames for the new grape plants Seth brought back from France last week. They worked over the weekend to get the plants into the ground, but now Seth wants to get the frames up before the plants start to grow.”

“And this would involve you how?”

“I offered to help paint the frames.” Apparently anticipating resistance from her mother, Nikki hastened to add, “Mark’s sister, Hayley, and their friend Wendy will be there also. I just met her yesterday. She’s really nice and wanted to help, so I asked Aunt Des and she said sure. I could go with Aunt Des. She’s going to be helping, too.”

“I guess it’s all right.”

“Yay! Thanks, Mom.” Nikki’s phone immediately appeared in her left hand and she began to type with a speed only the young have mastered. Seconds later, they heard a ping. Nikki swiped her screen, then smiled. “Mark is already out there. He’s been working since early morning with Seth.” She pocketed the phone.

“What’s going on back at the house?” Allie stretched her shoulders, grateful for a few minutes looking straight ahead rather than up.

“Not much. Aunt Barney’s going over to Tom’s house to help him sort through some stuff of his mother’s. He said he doesn’t know what stuff’s valuable and what’s not.”

“Shouldn’t Tom’s sister be doing that?”

Nikki shrugged. “She lives in London.”

“Oh. Right. What’s Cara doing?”

“She got up early, not as early as you, though. She packed a picnic. She and Joe are spending the day out at the lake. They’re going to kayak and stuff.”

Nikki’s phone pinged again.

“I gotta go.” She looked up at Allie. “Aunt Des is ready, and she wants to leave by twelve thirty and it’s twenty after.” Nikki leaned forward as far as she could to kiss her mother’s cheek. “You’re the best mom. See you later. And thanks again.”

“You’re welcome.” Allie watched Nikki work her way down, nimble as an elf, before adding, “I think.”

She continued to pack up her things, fighting off the feeling she got whenever Nikki spent time with Mark. Oh, of course everyone said what a good kid he was. He was smart, he was athletic, he was polite, he was hardworking, and he was adorably cute. He’d volunteered to build houses in Haiti with a group from his church. Rationally, Allie knew Nikki’d hit the boyfriend jackpot. He was the son of Seth’s cousin. Did it make her a bad mother that she knew Nikki’d be returning to California at the end of the summer and that would probably be the end as far as Mark was concerned?

Mothers weren’t always rational where their young teen daughters were concerned when it came to boys. Allie knew she was overprotective sometimes—some might say overbearing—but Nikki was her world. Her only child. The only good thing that came out of a fifteen-year marriage to a man who one day decided he didn’t want to be married anymore and cut her loose. Clint, her ex, had made a big thing out of giving her the house they’d bought years ago in L.A. Everyone said how generous he was—but she was the one who had to pay the insanely high taxes on the place. Clint had moved to a community that was close to an hour away from Allie, then enrolled Nikki in a very toney—and pricey—private school, for which Allie ended up paying half the tuition, an expense she couldn’t really afford but insisted on contributing her fair share. Which of course Clint had known she’d do.

Allie’d been working as an assistant director on a TV series that had been canceled and was rapidly running out of funds when her father died. The conditions of Fritz’s will had infuriated her—if ever she’d needed that inheritance, it was then—and his demands that his daughters move to Hidden Falls and rehab the theater had been puzzling. But in retrospect, she recognized there’d been a financial silver lining. She could rent her house while she was gone and have enough income to continue paying her share of Nikki’s school expenses, since she, Des, and Cara were living expense free in the family home with their aunt while they worked on the theater.

Allie swung her bag over her shoulder, preparing to start her descent, thinking how much her life had changed since she’d arrived in Hidden Falls. There were days when she felt like a different person from the one who’d boarded the plane at LAX and flown to Scranton, Pennsylvania, rented a car, and driven to this tiny nowhere town. At first she’d hated it. Now she was growing accustomed to the slow pace and the fact that everyone in town knew who she was and where she came from simply by virtue of her being Barney Hudson’s niece.

She dropped one leg over the side, singing softly to herself, “Don’t look down, girl, just don’t look down. Everything’s okay as long as you don’t look down,” when she did exactly that.

She bristled at the sight of the man who stood at the foot of the scaffold staring straight up.

“What are you doing here?”

“I was looking for Des. I stopped over at the house but no one answered.” His arms were crossed over his chest, and instead of wearing his usual chief of police uniform, Ben Haldeman—the very bane of Allie’s existence, the gigantic thorn in her side—was dressed in cutoff jeans and a light blue tank top, flip-flops on his feet. He didn’t bother to smile at her—why pretend he liked her any more than she liked him?—but he didn’t blink when she stared down at him, either.

“I’ll let her know when I see her.”

“Then I’ll just leave this little guy here and you can take him home with you. How ’bout I just tie his leash up to the scaffold?”

“What little . . .” Allie leaned over the side of the platform, just far enough to make her head spin and her stomach flip. She pulled back, but not before she saw the little black dog on the red leash that Ben was tying to the bottom rung. “Wait, where’d that dog come from? You can’t leave it here.”

“Found him out on the highway running loose. Tell Des to give me a call.” Ben patted the dog on the head and turned toward the door.

“Wait. Ben. No, don’t . . .”

He waved as he walked away. “Have a nice day.”

With a deep sigh of exasperation, Allie sat back on the platform. The man had given her a hard time before she’d even gotten out of her car the night she arrived in Hidden Falls—she’d just barely turned into Barney’s driveway—and he hadn’t let up since. Oh, there’d been a time when he’d seemed to be lightening up on her, but she’d killed any mellow feelings he might have started to have on the Fourth of July when she’d inadvertently—not to mention publicly—reminded him that his only child had died.

Not exactly, but close enough.

He’d been teasing her about being overprotective where Nikki was concerned. Was it being overprotective to want to know where her fourteen-year-old daughter was going and with whom? She didn’t think so. Her comeback had been quick and thoughtless.

“Said the man who—” She’d stopped herself before she finished the sentence, but it was pretty clear she’d been about to say, Said the man who has no children. She hadn’t said it, but the unspoken words had hung in the air between them—and everyone around them had heard.

Ben had gone white, then turned on his heel and left, and it was obvious he’d been cut to the quick.

She knew she could be a first-class pain in the ass, and God knew she had her moments, but she would never—never—purposely say something like that to anyone, not even her worst enemy. It had made her sick to her stomach to know she’d hurt Ben in the worst way possible. She’d gone to his apartment that afternoon to apologize, but the damage had been done. He’d shown her a photograph of his beautiful son, who along with his mother had been killed when their car had been hit by a drunk driver. The picture of the sweet dark-haired boy had broken Allie’s heart. She’d tried to tell Ben how terrible she felt, how she’d never intentionally say something so horrible, but he’d turned her words against her, accusing her of making it all about her. Her feelings. Her embarrassment.

The last words he’d spoken to her before today had been, “Nice, princess. Guess you told me, right? Way to get the last word.” And then he’d slammed the door in her face, leaving her speechless and tearful on his doorstep.

The feeling she’d had that day swept through her, a chronic sense of self-loathing she was pretty sure she’d never be able to shake, every time she thought back to that day.

“Damn.” She looked down at the dog. From the top of the scaffold, she couldn’t tell what kind of dog it was, just that it was small and all black and was moving nervously around the limited space Ben had left it in. Of course he’d bring a stray to Des. She was the dog whisperer. She’d funded a rescue shelter back in Montana, where she’d been living, and it appeared she was now doing the same thing here in Hidden Falls. Seth had lots of room for a shelter on his farm, and he’d made it clear he was okay with Des bringing abandoned and lost dogs there since the town had no other provisions for strays. The fact that Seth was in love with Des probably had something to do with his offer.

Another heavy sigh, and Allie began the climb down. When she reached the floor, she stood several feet away from the dog and stared at it. It had perky ears that stood away from its head and big round eyes, a stocky body, short legs.

“So, I, ah, guess you got lost.” She set her bag down on the lowest plank of the scaffold and reached to untie the dog, which backed away as if in fear. “Oh, no, no. I’m not going to hurt you. I just want to untie your leash so we can leave.”

She stopped to consider how Des might handle this situation. She tried to remember how her sister spoke to Buttons, the white dog she’d rescued—and kept—several months earlier.

“So maybe you’re hungry.” She stared at the dog, which made no move but continued to stare at her with its oversized eyes. “Or maybe thirsty. Want some water?”

The dog didn’t move, nor did it look away.

“All right, look. We’re going to go for a walk, okay? Wouldn’t you like to be not tied up anymore?”

She leaned closer and reached for the leash. The dog growled.

“Oh crap. Was that a threat? Are you going to bite me? It figures he’d bring me a vicious dog.” She stood with her hands on her hips, trying to figure out what to do next. “Look, I’m hot and starving, and I want to go back to the house. I have to take you with me. I can’t leave you here tied up, all alone.”

She reached again for the leash—and once again the dog growled.

“Okay, you’ve gotta stop doing that. I’m trying to help you. You don’t look like a puppy, so you should know the difference between someone who’s trying to help you and someone who means you harm.”

Another growl, this one from deep in the dog’s throat.

“I give up. I get that you don’t like me, but I still can’t in good conscience leave you here.” She searched her bag for her phone, then speed-dialed Des’s number.

“Des, we have a situation,” Allie said when her sister answered.

“What kind of situation?”

“The canine kind. Ben dropped off a dog at the theater. He found it running loose on the highway. He brought it in here and tied its leash to the scaffold so I could bring it home to you. Which would have been fine except the dog growls at me every time I reach for the leash. What do I do?”

“Does the dog appear to be injured or hurt in any way?”

Allie walked around the dog, giving it a wide berth even as she gave it a once-over. “Not that I can see.”

“Did you speak to it nicely, or did you talk to it the way you talk to Ben?”

“What difference would that make?”

“Dogs are very sensitive creatures. They recognize hostility. If you’ve been snarling at it, it’s going to snarl back.”

“Des, I didn’t snarl. I was actually very nice. I asked if it was hungry or thirsty and told it I was going to take it for a walk, but it won’t let me untie it.” Frustrated, she added, “Ben knew the dog wasn’t friendly. He still hasn’t forgiven me for—”

“Ben’s past all that,” Des interrupted.

“No, he isn’t.”

“Let’s focus on the dog. Ask it if it wants to go for a walk. Most dogs know walk.”

“Okay. Wait . . .”

“Allie, say it nicely.”

Allie groaned. She lowered her voice and said slowly and sweetly, “Hi, doggie. Want to go for a walk? Walk, doggie?”

“What’s it doing?”

“Glaring at me with these big eyes.”

“Sit down and talk to it. See if you can get the leash loose.”

“He’s going to go right for my bare legs, I just know it.” Allie flinched, imagining those sharp little teeth buried in her calf.

“Do you have any food?” Des asked.

“I don’t know. Let me look in my bag.” She rummaged for a moment, then found a cookie encased in plastic wrap.

“I have a cookie, but I don’t know how old it is.”

“It’s not chocolate, is it? Chocolate’s not good for dogs.”

“It’s a sugar cookie.” Allie took a closer look through the cellophane. “Not much sugar on it.”

“If he’s hungry, he won’t care.”

“Okay, here goes.” She unwrapped the cookie and broke off a piece. “Here, boy. Want a little snack?”

The dog’s nose began to twitch as he sniffed the air. He took a few tentative steps toward her.

“Come on, it’s for you.” She lowered her voice as she’d heard Des do when she was talking to Buttons, then lowered it again to almost a whisper. The dog came closer, then stretched out its neck. Allie extended her arm so the dog could take a bite. She broke off another piece, then while she fed it with one hand, she untied the leash with the other.

“Yes!” she said triumphantly. “Th