Lana took a quick peek into the other rooms (most of them horrifying in their dirty condition and falling-down chaos). Then she shut the last door, carefully locking it even though most of the eleven rooms hadn’t been. Why bother? Squatters wouldn’t even be interested in rooms like these.
In the falling twilight, she made her way through the garden toward the café. This patch of land between the hotel rooms and the saloon, at least, was still gorgeous. More beautiful than ever, actually. The roses Mama had planted so long ago were in full bloom, sending their heady scent into the purple sky. The jasmine vines were loaded with small white explosions of sweet fragrance and someone – Adele probably – had painted the rocks in the walkway white.
Adele had always loved painting over things. Covering them up. Refusing to see problems, even when they were right in front of her.
God, Lana was nervous. Being back in town was like a massive case of stage fright, nerves and jangled thoughts and all.
As she pushed open the door of the Golden Spike Café, a hunger pang rumbled through her belly. How long had it been since she’d eaten? She’d driven for hours today, surprising her sisters in the Migration office. Molly had told her all about the shelter hotline on the phone a month or two ago. It was Molly’s idea, and with Adele’s help they’d made it happen.
Just another case of her sisters being awesome.
It was possible Lana hadn’t eaten since the peanuts she’d chowed on at the rest stop early this morning. She’d driven the remainder of the day, speeding up the closer she got to Darling Bay, like a horse smelling the barn.
She’d rushed here. Now, a large part of her wanted to rush away. It was the part she was going to silence. Lana was going to give this a chance. A real one.
Straightening her shoulders, she pulled open the café front door.
Chapter Four
She took a quick, surprised breath.
It was wonderful. Lana shouldn’t have been surprised, but she was – was this going to be her default in Darling Bay?
The place smelled much like it had when Uncle Hugh had run it – of cheese and fresh bread and clam chowder – but there was more in the air, too. She could smell herbs: basil and rosemary. She reached out and touched a plastic-coated menu that rested in the menu holder. Her finger came away clean, not sticky like the old days.
“Well, hi there! Just one?” A pretty blonde grinned at her.
Lana nodded automatically, and then caught herself. “No, sorry. For three. If you have it. The other two should be right behind me.”
The blonde looked around. “You bet. That booth just opened. Let me wipe it down and it’s all yours.”
The café was packed, another surprising thing. All the booths except the one she was waiting for were filled. Long, wide tables ran down the middle, full of people chatting and laughing over burgers and bottles of wine. The walls were covered in the crap Uncle Hugh had loved – ocean floats, old wooden oars, rusted license plates and fruit-stand signs. Lana remembered the wall decorations being covered with a thin layer of grime and the occasional spider web. Now they were as clean as the rest of the place seemed to be.
Molly’s influence was strong here. Adele, of course, had always been the fixer-upper, the one who insisted on setting things to right. But Molly was the warmest of the three – the caretaker. This room felt like a place everyone would want to be.
And they obviously did.
A short woman with grey hair touched her elbow. “You. It’s you.”
Lana jumped. “Just waiting for a table.”
The woman wore a blue muumuu-like dress and her eyes were as wide as the fat-bottomed candles on each table. “Lana! You’re home!”
Only in this town would she be recognized. “Hello, there.” She stuck out her hand politely. “It’s nice to meet you.”
The woman brushed aside her hand and drew her into a full-bodied hug. Her breasts were pillowy and she smelled vaguely of gin. “Oh, my heart, my heart. I drew the Four of Wands and I thought that’s what I was reading, but then again, I thought they were telling me to learn how to walk on stilts that one time, and boy, were they wrong. I broke my leg and took out three boxes of tomatoes at the farmers’ market.”
“Mmm?” Lana pulled back as best she could, but the woman kept leaning forward, following her, until Lana ran into the back wall with a thud. “Oh, my God. Stop. Please stop.” Lana scooted sideways.
“Sorry! I forget hugs make some people uncomfortable. I always mean to ask permission. I mean, that’s what you do, right? In today’s society? I was told that, by someone. I should say Are you a hugger or a non-hugger? But by the time I get in there, it’s too late. I’ve already forgotten. Oh! I’m Norma, did I say that? Do you remember me?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “Nikki! Girl! Look who I have here!”
The blonde hostess turned with a smile, a blue rag in her hands. “Your booth’s ready.” Then she gaped. “Oh, my God.”
“Right?” Norma bellowed. “It’s her!”
Fantastic. Lana held out her hand to the hostess. “I’m –”
“Lana Darling.” Nikki dropped the rag on the floor, clapped twice, and then reached out to shake her hand. “I can’t believe it.”
Lana felt, rather than saw, heads turning all over the restaurant. Even if they’d missed Norma’s bear hug at the door, there was no way to miss this top-volume exchange. She slid into the booth and prayed to disappear.
Nikki clapped again, then stamped her feet. She gave a small scream while turning in a circle. “I can’t believe it’s you. I’m just going to pass out right here.”
It had been years since Lana had had a fan girl freak out on her. “Please don’t. It’s very nice to meet you. My sisters will be here soon to have dinner with me …”
“Of course. Of course. Good. Oh, wow, did Molly know you were coming?” Nikki picked up the rag and stuck it in her apron strap.
“Nope.”
“A surprise!” Nikki laughed. “How wonderful! Can I get you a drink? On the house, of course. Wine? We have an amazing local chardonnay. Or beer? We have six on draft, which isn’t that many, but they have a lot more at the saloon – oh, you know that. A mixed drink? We don’t do them here, but I’m totally happy to run next door to get you whatever you want.”
“Just water, thank you.”
Nikki gazed at her in reverence. “Water. Of course. You got it. Ice? No ice?”
Lana was a no-ice kind of person, but this woman would obviously be happier if she could help. “Ice, please. That would be amazing.”
Nikki clapped again. “Yes! Yes! I’ll be right back!”
Lana exhaled deeply, pressing herself into the booth. The loud woman named Norma chugged away, muttering something about her tarot cards. The people who had spun around to see what the excitement was had turned back to their food. It was quieter in the restaurant now that Norma wasn’t filling her ear. It seemed as if everyone had piped down. It felt as if they were all trying not to stare. Lana heard snippets of phrases: Youngest one, right? Did she move to Canada? I heard Cuba. Drugs? Nah. Maybe? This one song …
Lana used to have a way of dealing with this. Back in the day, when they’d been in Darling Bay, Lana had possessed a method of tilting her head, looking up and to the left, as if trying to remember something, and then setting her chin on her fist while she stared at a piece of paper.
Paper. She rummaged in her bag and pulled out her journal. If she stared at the page hard enough, she’d look so busy that no one but the waitress would interrupt her –
“There you are.”
Her big sister, Adele, had never had a problem interrupting her. Years ago, it had seemed to be Adele’s full-time job.
“Hey.”
“Oh, man.” Adele slid into the booth opposite her. “Just looking at you does my heart good.”
Lana blinked. Where was the side-slung insult?
It would come in a minute. Adele would wonder why her hair was cut crooked, why she’d dyed it so
dark. Or she’d comment on Lana being too thin. Something. Lana was ready for it – ready for the criticism. “You, too,” she managed.
“I’m not going to ask you anything. I know you hate it when I want to know everything too fast.”
Adele was right. Lana had always hated that.
If Adele didn’t push her that way, though, where did their relationship stand? What in the world would they talk about? Lana sure as hell wasn’t ready to talk about the elephant in the room – the real reason she’d run away and stayed away. “Where’s Molly?”
“She was right behind me, but she said she had to do something in the kitchen first. She’s probably in there now.”
“Doing what?”
“Who knows?” Adele shrugged. “She’s always back there. This place has turned into her baby. The other day she burned two loaves of sourdough to a crisp, and I thought she was going to cry.”
Alarm jolted through her. “That doesn’t sound like her. Is she okay?” Asking Adele about Molly. She swore she’d never fall back into this habit.
“She’s in love. She cries at the drop of a hat, but she laughs all day long. Her emotions are just pretty close to the surface.”
Lana took a breath. She could handle making small (big) talk with Adele. She was an adult, after all. Come on, Molly, hurry up.
If Adele wasn’t going to ask why Lana had cut her off so long ago, Lana wasn’t going to bring it up. Not yet, at least.
She would swallow the lump that felt like a block of tears and keep pretending she was okay.
As if reading her mind, Adele said, “I’m sorry … I’m sorry we didn’t talk for so long.”
“What? I texted.” Stupid. What a stupid thing to say. They hadn’t talked because Lana hadn’t wanted to talk to her eldest sister.
Adele had barely even tried to figure out why she hadn’t.
“I should have reached out to you more.” Adele’s eyes were sad.
Lana hadn’t predicted how much that would get to her. All these years of wondering what Adele would say when they were finally face to face, but she hadn’t thought about what her expression would be. “Yeah,” she managed.
“I’m sorry.”
“What are you sorry for?” Did Adele even know?
Adele looked at the table. She touched it with her fingertips. “Do you want to do this now? Here?”
Something inside Lana’s chest released. “Not really.” She sighed. She could pretend a while longer. She could give Adele this. “So you know this sheriff of Molly’s?”
Adele nodded in what looked like relief. “Colin McMurtry. He’s a good man.”
“Are you sure?”
“You know how some guys become cops because they really want to be criminals but don’t quite have the balls?”
“Yeah.”
“He’s the opposite. He won’t even hire those guys.”
A knot loosened in Lana’s neck. She hadn’t even known she’d been worried about Molly and Colin. “Good.”
“They’re engaged, did you know that?”
Lana sat taller. “Yeah.” She was the first person Molly had told. Or at least, that’s what Molly had said on the phone.
“She …” Adele reached for a paper napkin from the wicker basket on the table. “She told you about me?”
Caution crept back into her blood. “What do you mean?”
“Me and Nate?”
“The bartender. At the saloon.” Adele had claimed the Golden Spike’s bar as the third of the business she’d wanted, and Molly (of course) had been fine with it. Lana hadn’t cared enough from a distance to fight about it. It was fine, really – Lana had spent all the time in country dive bars she’d ever wanted. She wasn’t interested in the place.
“Yeah.”
“She told me.” What did you say to someone who was in love? Congratulations didn’t seem quite right … but holy crap. She’d almost forgotten about her sister’s pregnancy. “And she told me you’re knocked up.”
Adele started. “She what?”
“She didn’t mean to.”
“She told you?”
“I think she’s excited, that’s all.” Great, now Adele would be mad at both of them. Par for the coming-home course, she supposed. Lana wondered if the café did room service. It probably didn’t, since the hotel was mostly uninhabitable. Of course, the overeager hostess probably wouldn’t mind running a grilled cheese up to her, and Lana would tip her well for it.
“Oh, well.” Instead of looking angry, Adele grinned. “I wish I’d seen your face, but now’s as good a time as any, right? What do you think?”
“Huh?” Her sister couldn’t possibly need reassurance, could she? From Lana?
“About this.” Adele patted her very slightly rounded stomach. “The fact that you’re going to be an aunt.”
“Holy shit.” They were barely sisters anymore. What kind of aunt would that make her?
“Right?”
It literally hadn’t occurred to Lana that’s she’d be related to Adele’s fetus.
Uncle Hugh had been so important to all three of them growing up. The girls had loved their parents, but their uncle had been something special. He’d had more sparkle, somehow. Uncle Hugh had meant sun and sand and ice-cream cones dripping on the rough wooden pier. He’d been lazy mornings and late nights, crayfish in the creek and trout from the lake. He’d been fun.
What kind of relationship would Lana have with Adele’s child?
A kid. A baby.
“Wow.” Lana’s voice was soft. Again, she felt that weird pressure behind her eyes, but she was not going to cry, not in Darling Bay. “I’m happy for you.”
She was.
“Thank you. You have to meet Nate. He’s amazing.”
Well, of course Adele thought that. People thought that about their significant others, and very often it wasn’t borne out.
Molly said he was a good guy, though. Adele said Molly’s dude was great, too.
Handy, that’s what it was.
And, honestly, sweet.
She slipped out of her seat and moved around the table to slide in next to Adele.
Adele leaned left.
Lana leaned right.
Their shoulders held each other up, and then the sides of their heads pressed against each other. The words warred within Lana, but finally she said them because they were true. “I’m happy for you.”
“Thank you.”
An audible sigh came from the booth behind them. Lana turned to look. The tarot-card woman, Norma, was staring at them unabashedly, wiping a tear. “That’s beautiful, girls. Just beautiful. Adele! I can’t believe you didn’t tell us until now!”
Lana frowned. “Oh, no.–” This was her fault. She’d spilled the beans.
Adele shook her head in Lana’s direction. “It’s okay. We were going to tell the whole town, as soon as you knew. I just wanted you and Molly to know first.” Adele folded her hands as if in prayer. “I got my wish.”
Norma lit up as if she’d been plugged in. “Now you can tell everyone!” She clutched the back of the booth and twisted further in their direction. “Can I tell them?”
“No!” Lana didn’t know this woman, but she was pretty sure that was the right answer.
“Yes.” Adele put a warm hand on Lana’s arm. “Sure, Norma, go ahead. The more good wishes the better, right?”
Norma cackled in glee. She scooted and thumped her way out of the seat and then stood. “You guys! Everyone! I’ve got something to say! Adele Darling is gonna have a baby! And it’s Nate’s!” Norma turned her head. “Oh, damn, I didn’t actually confirm that. Is it Nate’s?”
Adele gaped. “Of course it is!”
Norma bellowed into her cupped hands, “It’s Nate’s, for sure!”
Chapter Five
A round of applause followed Norma’s shouted words. Six women diners rushed the table, and Lana slid out of the booth, back to her side so Adele could collect the congratulatory hugs.
“Oh, really? I didn’t tell her.”
Lana watched Molly squirm. There was some satisfaction in this, at least.
“Oh, yeah. Whoops.” Molly squinted as if trying to focus on something in the distance. “Sorry about that.”
“It’s okay. It’s fine. I wouldn’t have been able to keep it secret, either.” Adele’s cheeks went pink. “My sisters are here. Both of you are here to share this with me. I’m so happy.”
Molly sat next to Adele. Lana faced her sisters. There was still an older woman with dyed pink hair busily congratulating Adele and offering her nursery-school advice (too early, surely?), so Lana had a moment to stare.
The two of them. Right there. She could reach across the table and touch each of them. She could press her fingers against the skin of their arms, see how strong their muscles were, feel the bones inside. She wanted to.
But she didn’t.
Molly said, “I ordered us bacon cheeseburgers with the fixings. And fries. Sound okay?”
Adele nodded while keeping a polite gaze on the woman who was now telling her how many bibs she would need.
“Sure,” said Lana. She kept staring.
Adele, still so pretty and fair, with her honey-blonde hair and blue eyes. Molly, looking brighter than Lana could remember, her hair glossy and dark, her brown eyes shining. The girls shared the same-shaped eyes, but the color of Lana’s had always been muddy, neither bright like Adele’s nor dark like Molly’s. Hers were light brown. Boring.
Neither of her sisters looked boring. They were both startlingly pretty.
The last time she’d seen both of them at the same time, Adele and Molly had been on television. As the last congratulator left the table, Lana said, “I saw you on the Jack and Ginger show last month.”
Adele leaned forward. “You saw that?”
“You both looked great. You sounded amazing, too.” It was the least she could say. They really had. Their song “Fly Up” had tugged at the back of her throat, always the sign of good writing.
The Songbird Sisters Page 3