“Nope.” Mel shook his head. Mel had hair that looked like he woke up in a hurricane, and a voice like gravel in a meat grinder. “Only ever collected tattoo’s, myself.” Mel winked at the solid mound of a woman sitting beside Hudson, nursing a whiskey sour.
“And women. You’ve had quite a collection of them over the years.” The woman’s voice was a whiskey burr that warmed him like a smooth shot of scotch. She had one eye almost shut behind deep wrinkles that might have been scars, and a cascade of dark hair tumbled over her shoulders. She was older than Mrs. Davies, with blood red nails longer than Hudson’s pinkie finger.
“Only ever had eyes for you, Maddie,” Mel growled. “And you never gave me the time of day.”
Hudson hiccupped softly. He liked this bar. He decided he would stay here. Forever.
“I get to keep the dog.” Hudson nodded in triumph. “Stinky little neurotic rat-dog.” He gestured at the sparkly purse he had slung over the back of his chair. Delia had left the purse and Dotty outside the condo door when Hudson went by to confirm that she had, indeed, changed the locks. He was just glad that Dotty hadn’t met the same fate as the ceramic lighthouses.
He poked the purse gently and was rewarded with Dotty’s trademark nasal snorting noise. Maddie’s one eye widened alarmingly.
“So, your woman kicked you out, dumped the dog in your lap and broke your little lighthouses, so now you’re here drinking away your sorrows?” Maddie asked, leaning back and looking him up and down. “You don’t look like you’ve suffered much, pup. Look pretty much like Harvard law if you ask me.”
“Dalhousie,” he said. “I’m a master of torts.”
He giggled. Torts.
“Mad Maddie.” She grabbed his hand and shook it, her hand warm and strong in his. “Come have a smoke with me.”
“Don’t smoke,” Hudson said sadly. He’d be willing to start if it would make Mad Maddie happy.
“Don’t have to.” She dragged him behind her toward the door. “You just need some sunshine before you swim all the way to the bottom of the bottle.”
He looked back at the bar to see Mel peering curiously into the purse as Dotty’s nose poked out. Mel and Dotty could be buddies, Hudson decided. Everyone needed a buddy.
He blinked myopically in the light of the afternoon sun as they stood on the lopsided porch of the Century Club. Maddie blew smoke rings that wisped away in the gentle breeze from the ocean. The bar was a tattered barnacle on the edge of the wharf. Across the road were shops and cafés with people coming and going, most of them looking away from the smoky entrance to the dilapidated old tavern. Hudson felt invisible behind the camouflage of peeling shingles and sagging beams.
He glanced down the street, past the bookstore, the ice cream shop, the restaurants. The Lighthouse stood at the edge of the waterfront like a proud sentinel. He could see the office building that housed Proxly and Son rising in the distance.
“You’re a pretty pathetic piece of work, Dalhousie.” Maddie offered him a cigarette and he shook his head.
“I know it,” he said. “I met a beautiful strong woman with a kid and she’s twice the man I am.”
“They usually are,” Maddie said.
“And I left an unpleasant angry woman who wants me to be twice the man I can afford to be.”
“They usually do,” she intoned.
“And now I’m drunk,” he said, looking at her for confirmation.
“I’d say that’s a fairly accurate description.”
“Hudson Proxly, my goodness dear, whatever are you doing?” The shrill voice pierced the fog of his brain and he turned, waving Maddie’s smoke from his line of sight.
Auntie Rosalee.
Hudson’s eyes widened painfully.
She trotted across the road, clutching her purse to her side as she waved wildly at him, as if he were on a sinking ship and she was afraid he was about to sink out of sight.
“I thought that was you,” Rosalee said, breathing hard as she joined them on the step of the tavern. “I was sitting in Robin’s car and then out you came and I said to myself, my goodness, what on earth is Hudson Proxly doing coming out of a tavern in the middle of the day, and I just had to come over and inquire, didn’t I?”
“Apparently so,” he said, bemused. He gathered his foggy manners and pieced them together like a puzzle that was missing a few pieces. Mad Maddie made a gargling noise beside him and he decided she was laughing, judging by the merry twinkle of her one eye.
“Auntie, this is...” he hesitated. How could he introduce Great Aunt Rosalee, with her Windex and her voluminous purse and her twin-set to a woman named Mad Maddie who was blowing smoke rings like a sailor, with a skull-and-crossbones painted carefully on her inch-long blood-red fingernails?
“Call me Maddie,” she said, wrapping a crimson tipped hand around Rosalee’s arm. “You look like you need a drink.”
Maddie winked at Hudson as she escorted Rosalee through the sagging doors of the Century Club.
“Well, I wouldn’t say no to a nice cup of tea.” Rosalee chirped as she disappeared into the dim interior of the bar. Where was Robin, and how angry would she be if he returned Great Aunt Rosalee to her, drunk?
He was too drunk himself to have the answer.
Chapter 17
Robin asked Gabe’s mother to watch Izzy for her as soon as she realized Rosalee was not where she had left her. She sat in the car where she had expected her great aunt to be waiting, and texted. Auntie was hopeless with the cell phone, but it was worth a try. She hoped the older woman was over her snit and wasn’t just being contrary to make a point.
She was probably in the coffee shop. Or maybe she’d wandered down to the Lighthouse for a snack. She drummed her fingers on the steering wheel. Izzy would only be with Gabe and his mother for an hour, and if she could get Auntie in and out of the grocery store in that time, she might still salvage some of the day to spend alone with Izzy.
Her thoughts wandered to Hudson as she waited for Auntie to reply.
She hoped he was all right. She remembered how devastated she had been when Izzy’s father left her shortly after they learned she was pregnant. She huffed a little.
Men.
She had raised a child alone after being dumped by someone she thought was in love with her. Hudson had dodged a bullet by escaping Delia.
She didn’t understand what the big deal was.
“Pull up your big boy panties, Hud.” She texted him impulsively. “She’s not worth it.”
She pressed send, then immediately felt bad.
She shouldn’t cross into his personal space; he was technically her boss, after all. Even though he had almost gotten her fired with the great Windex scheme. Her phone buzzed.
“I have Auntie.” He texted back. “Do exactly as I say if you want her back alive.”
She blinked and reread the text before smiling broadly and looking around. She got out of the car and scanned the parking lot and sidewalk.
“Where are you?” she texted.
“Third star to the right, and straight on til morning.” He even added a little winky face, as if he wasn’t already being cute enough.
I don’t have time for this.
She couldn’t help but grin, all the same.
“I may just let you keep her.”
That’ll fix him.
She scanned the sidewalk again, turning around toward the wharf. Where they could be hiding? She paused, facing the Century Club brooding darkly on the water’s edge. Hudson waved from the front door.
Robin blinked and shook her head. Great Aunt Rosalee, in a tavern? She was fairly certain Auntie had invented prohibition.
She hurried over, watching Hudson disappear inside as she approached the bar.
She really didn’t have time for this.
Chapter 18
“I think she likes it here.” Hudson nursed the coffee Robin had insisted on getting for him.
Auntie was deep in conversation with Mad Maddie, p
erched on a bar stool like she was born to it, sipping tea and animatedly discussing crochet patterns. Even Mel seemed to be drawn into her orbit. They could hear the undertone of his gravel voice interjecting comments when Auntie took a breath. Which wasn’t often.
Robin glanced at her watch.
“You have to get Izzy,” he said, slurring slightly.
“Soon.” Robin nodded. “She’s happy to have a play date with Gabe but babysitting my Great Aunt at a seedy bar was not really part of my plan for today.”
Neither was babysitting a soppy romantic, but here she was.
“You’re beautiful.”
“What?”
“You.” He pointed at her with a waving gesture that indicated her whole body. “Inside too. Beautiful.”
“Um.” She looked around the dim bar, catching the final strains of a country song on the speakers. Something about dirt roads and trucks. Hudson grinned at her from behind a glass of rum that had somehow reappeared in his hand. She reached over and replaced it with the coffee.
“You’re drunk,” she said gently.
“You’re still beautiful,” he said. “Now you say thank you.”
“I do?”
“Not yet. That’s for when I ask you to marry me.”
She laughed. He was adorable, even drunk.
He laughed with her, but she could see the sadness under his smile.
“What’s your plan?” She tapped her finger on the table to get Hudson’s attention. The coffee seemed to be helping, but he drifted in the blurry state of drinking where he really just needed to go somewhere and sleep it off. But apparently, all his doors were locked.
“My car?”
“Nope, bad choice.” She had already pocketed his keys and knew she was going to have to deliver him somewhere before the afternoon was over. He could probably walk to the office, but something stopped her from wanting to let him sleep in his desk chair. She could imagine the look on Mrs. Davies’ face.
“You’re going to have to face Delia,” she said. “She can’t just lock you out of your own home.”
“Common law,” he grumbled. “Lived together for a year. Pertty much like married.”
“Why did you stay?” It wasn’t fair to ask him personal questions when he was drunk, but she wanted to know.
“Expected.”
“Expected what?”
“She did. Expected to get married, have all the things.” He sat up and rolled his shoulders. “I thought it was what I should do, and my Dad likes her so he would be disappointed, and I guess I love her.”
“You guess?” She also knew it wasn’t fair to judge him for not knowing. She thought she had loved Izzy’s father, but she had been wrong.
“Supposed to.” He took another swig of coffee. “Supposed to love the beautiful angry woman, get married, have babies. I want all that.”
Robin sighed. She knew only too well how far the dream was from the reality.
“Now, need new locks,” he said.
“I think you need a new apartment,” she said. “And a new girlfriend.”
“Nope.” He shook his head. “Gonna be single forever. Like you.”
She pursed her lips.
Great. Good choice.
“Well, isn’t this simply lovely?” Auntie appeared at her elbow, beaming. “You won’t believe it, but Mel and I went to school together. I never would have recognized him, although he says I don’t look a bit different than I did in my teens.”
Robin glanced over at the bar. Mel’s head barely came over the top of the counter, but his shock of wild hair made him appear taller. He smiled a crooked smile at her. He was missing a few teeth.
“We haven’t seen each other for years, of course,” she bubbled. “But here he is running this successful establishment, and then there’s my new friend Maddie.” She turned and waved at Mad Maddie, hunched like a troll at the bar. “She has her own business, Robin. An entrepreneur, just like yourself. She’s a manicurist, can you believe it?”
“It is surprising.” Robin blinked. She was still stumbling over the Century Club being described as a successful establishment.
“Maybe you need to start a business, Auntie.” Hudson offered. “Laundry tips for the homeless. I’ll be your first customer.”
Robin kicked him under the table. He sat back, affronted, and gestured at his wrinkled shirt that seemed to have pizza stains on the front.
“A little lemon juice and dish liquid, dear,” Auntie said. “Fix you right up.”
Hudson nodded at Robin, a ‘so there’ look on his face.
She was going to have to take him home with her. She resigned herself to the decision the moment he pushed his chair back and stood swaying in front of her looking like a very sad teddy bear that had been dropped in a puddle.
A drunk teddy bear.
She took a deep breath.
He was just such a chucklehead.
HE WOKE UP FACE TO face with two shining button eyes staring at him. He jerked backward. His brain swam to catch up with the motion of his head and failed. He was tangled in blankets that smelled like lemons, and his bare feet stuck out over the edge of a very small bed. He checked the rest of his body and was relieved to find he was still wearing pants.
He blinked away the haze of sleep to see that his bedfellow was a very large stuffed rabbit stretched languidly across the pillow. It winked at him, he was certain. He sat up slowly. He was awake, the sheets were pink and the spongy grey matter behind his eyes growled like a feral cat.
He swung his legs off the side of the bed. A tiny face peered at him through a crack in the door.
“Hudson’s ‘wake, Mumma!” Izzy yelled as she slammed open the door and danced into the room. “You’se had a sleepover in my bed! This is Bunny, and this is Pirate.” She held up a parrot with a patch over its eye. “Do you want breakfast? We’se havin’ pancakes. I like banana on my pancake because it’s the bestest, but Mumma likes honey. You like honey?”
He groaned. Why she was so excited to be alive? He was definitely not harbouring any illusions about the joys of living. The thought of bananas made him wince.
“Bunny is my new best friend,” he muttered. He could speak in full sentences. Progress.
Izzy giggled and put Bunny in his arms. He hugged the ragged stuffie and lay back down on the pillow. Izzy hopped onto the bed and knelt on the pillow by his head.
“We can read stories,” she squealed. Books appeared out of nowhere.
“Can we read them quietly?” He closed his eyes.
The aroma of coffee filled his senses. Had he died and gone to heaven? The mattress dipped as someone sat on the bed beside him. Izzy scooted over top of him to snuggle her feet into his back.
“You smell like socks,” Izzy said, and he heard Robin laugh.
“Time to get up, Sleeping Beauty,” Robin said. He cracked open his eyes to see the coffee cup hovering between them.
“Coffee, good.” He took the cup and breathed in the steam. It helped. “Thanks.”
Robin stood up and lifted Izzy into her arms.
He smiled weakly. This is how it should be. Woman, coffee, child, sheets that smelled like lemons.
“This is nice,” he mumbled to his new best friend. Bunny agreed. “A beautiful woman bringing me coffee, and a very loud little girl wanting to read stories. I could get used to this.” He grinned at Robin, the whining cats in his head withdrawing their claws slightly.
“Don’t—,” she said. “—get used to it.”
She closed the door behind her, but she smiled before she left.
Chapter 19
“It’s been three days.” Neil deftly twirled a posy between two fingers as he created an arrangement of lilies and baby’s breath. “You’ll have to start charging him rent.”
“He’s homeless and sad,” Robin said. “I mean, he’s not super sad. I think he’s kind of relieved, really, but he just had a big break up and you know what that’s like. He’s super sweet to Izzy, and I
can’t just kick him out when he has nowhere to go.”
“He could move back in with his dad,” Neil said. “That happens.”
“Yuck.”
“True.”
Robin fiddled with a sprig of rosemary. She didn’t want to admit that she enjoyed having Hudson around, but Izzy needed her bed back and their little home felt crowded with an extra person sharing the bathroom.
“How’s the matchmaking going?” Neil asked.
“Auntie is absolutely scandalized that I have Hudson in the apartment.” She grinned. “I thought I needed to hook her up with someone, but apparently all I had to do was appear to live in sin and she’s backed off!”
“Maybe you should reap the benefits?” Neil winked at her. “Put Izzy back in her own bed and, hubba hubba.”
“Hubba hubba? You seriously just said hubba hubba? I feel like I’m in a 1970s sitcom.”
The door to the flower shop chimed open and Robin turned to see Mr. Proxly smiling as he entered.
“Hello, Robin,” he said. “Ordering plants for the office?”
“Actually yes, I am.” She liked Mr. Proxly. He was so consistent and formal it was reassuring to be around him. Like the world would continue doing exactly what it was supposed to do because he had arranged its schedule down to the second. “Several young ficus and an elephant ear for Mrs. Davies’ space.”
Mr. Proxly smiled.
“She’ll like that,” he said. “I get her fresh flowers every week, but I think she’s ready for a more vibrant surrounding. I believe her favorite color is blue.”
Only a man like Mr. Proxly would know his secretary’s favorite color.
Neil rang up Mr. Proxly’s standing order of blooms and Robin signed her order form. Mr. Proxly held the door for her as they left the shop together.
“Robin, I hope I’m not imposing, but I would like to ask you a question about my son.”
Robin sighed.
This was her boss. Her boss’s son was sleeping in her child’s bed surrounded by stuffed animals and Dr. Zeus books. Just that morning he had eaten a piece of toast Izzy made for him with bananas, raisins and grape jelly smeared on both sides. Nothing weird going on at all.
Love by Design: A Heartswell Harbour Romance Page 9