The Last Chance Matinee

by Mariah Stewart

  “You be sure to tell your grandma I said hello,” the woman called after him. “I’ll see her at bingo on Wednesday.”

  “Will do,” he called back.

  “Well, that was a nice welcome to town, I’m sure.” She turned her attention to the three young women. “Grab your things and come on up to the house. I just started to fix dinner, if any of you are hungry.”

  “Could I ask who you are?” Cara asked.

  “I’m your aunt Bonnie,” the woman replied. “But you can call me Barney. Everyone does. Now hurry along before we all freeze in this wind.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  The three women exchanged blank glances with one another.

  Finally, Cara asked, “Did you two know . . . ?”

  “No,” both Allie and Des responded. “You . . . ?”

  “Dad never mentioned he had a sister,” Cara said.

  “Dad never wanted to talk about his family.” Des looked as confused as the others.

  “Maybe she’s really just a family friend,” Allie suggested. “You know, like the way we call Pete Uncle Pete.”

  “Yeah. I’ll bet that’s it.” Des nodded.

  “Sure,” agreed Cara. “That has to be it.”

  They gathered their bags and hurried up the driveway to the house, the cold driving them forward.

  “Or maybe she’s been taking care of the house for us until we could get here,” Allie said.

  “Maybe.” Des was obviously doubtful.

  They filed up the front steps one by one.

  “Should we knock?” Des whispered.

  “She knows we’re here. She’s expecting us to come in.” Allie leaned past her sister to push open the door. “Hello?”

  “You can leave your bags in the hall and come on out to the kitchen,” a voice called from the back of the house.

  “Would you look at this place?” Cara murmured, feeling almost as if she’d fallen down a rabbit hole as she took in the spacious foyer with its handsome staircase that wound all the way to the third floor, the carved walnut wainscoting, and elaborate crystal chandelier. She pointed to the portraits painted in oils that hung in heavy frames on the walls. “Who do you suppose they are?”

  “Relatives of Dad’s would be my guess.” Allie glanced from one picture to the next. “They all look so dignified. So . . .”

  “Rich,” Des said softly. “Check out the emerald necklace on the woman third from the right.”

  “I wonder who she was.” Cara stood in front of the painting.

  “I wonder where that necklace is now.” Allie stood behind Cara, her arms crossed over her chest.

  “There sure are a lot of them,” Des noted.

  “Girls, come on back. You can hang your coats right there in the closet unless you’re still warming up. You can have a full tour later, or tomorrow morning, if you’re tired.” Aunt Bonnie—Barney—appeared in the kitchen doorway. She’d slipped on a dark blue apron, and in the light, Cara could see that her hair, chin-length and bluntly cut, was blond streaked with gray that could’ve almost passed as highlights. “I have some chicken noodle soup that I made earlier. I wasn’t sure who’d be arriving when, so I thought I’d make something that could be warmed up whenever you got here. Didn’t come together, I see. Shame you all had to rent cars on your own.”

  She disappeared back into the room.

  Cara looked at the others, shrugged, and followed. Des and Allie trailed behind. For its age and size, the house felt surprisingly warm.

  The kitchen was a large square room, and while it looked like it had been updated, it fell short of being contemporary. Wood cabinets painted ivory, some with glass doors, wrapped around two walls. Yellow Formica counters were flecked with green and gray. Hardwood marked by years of living covered the floor, and the walls were painted white with stenciled arms of green ivy vines climbing toward the ceiling. A breakfast nook, built into a bay window along the side wall, was painted to match the ivy. The appliances were all white but appeared to have been purchased in different decades. A large butler’s pantry served as a bridge between the kitchen and the adjacent room, which Cara assumed would be the dining room, and a large fireplace, embers burning, stood along the inner wall. The table was round, the chairs an eclectic mix of styles. Still, the room had an air of cheerfulness and warmth. Where the foyer with its wall of formal portraits was imposing, the kitchen offered a welcoming and much-needed hug.

  “Need something to drink? There are sodas in the fridge. Iced tea made this morning. And of course good old-fashioned water from the tap,” their hostess said. She stood with her back to the room, stirring a pot on the stove. “There’s coffee in the pot and water for tea on the stove if you’d rather something hot.”

  The scent of something delicious, something savory, wafted through the room. Even though the soup was made with chicken, Cara found herself wishing she hadn’t already eaten.

  “Glasses and mugs in the cabinet on the end there and ice in the freezer.”

  Cara was the first to speak, the first to move. “Something hot would be great. Thank you, Barney,” she said as if trying out the name; she still wasn’t exactly sure who this person was and how she fit into their lives, but she’d obviously been expecting them.

  Cara went to the cabinet for a cup, trying not to appear as awkward as she felt. The bottom shelf was filled with ceramic mugs, each adorned with the picture of a different species of bird. She picked the first one her hand touched, the Baltimore oriole, then had a quick flashback to going on the Cape May bird count one year with Susa.

  Turning to the other two, she asked, “Des? Allie? Glass or mug?”

  “A glass, please,” Des replied.

  “For me as well,” Allie said.

  Cara handed out the glasses and Des went to the freezer and tossed several ice cubes into her glass. She passed the ice cube tray to Allie before grabbing a can of Diet Pepsi from the fridge for her sister and filling her own glass with iced tea.

  “I prefer tea to soda, too, Des,” Barney said.

  Cara poured coffee into her mug, then added a bit of sugar from a nearby bowl and a splash of cream from a small pitcher.

  Des took a sip, then asked, “Barney, how did you know I was Des and not Allie or Cara?”

  “You look a lot like your father. Fritz always said you favored him. Allie, gosh almighty, I’d have known you anywhere. You look so much like Nora when she was in her prime. Though to be truthful, I see a little of myself in you, too. Of course you all have the Hudson blue eyes. Blue as an October sky, everyone used to say.” She turned to Cara. “By process of elimination, you have to be Cara. Susa’s girl.”

  “Right again.” Cara took a sip of her coffee and found it as delicious as it was fragrant. “So you knew we were coming today?”

  “Oh, sure. Pete’s kept me in the loop. I know all about your father’s will and why you’re here. And in case you haven’t figured it out, I’m your father’s sister. Your only living relative—on the Hudson side, anyway. Don’t know anything about Susa’s family, but Allie and Des, you have some cousins on your mother’s side around somewhere.”

  “Why didn’t we know about you? Why haven’t I ever heard of you before?” Cara pressed. “If Dad had a sister, wouldn’t he have told us? I mean, it’s really strange that he would have a sibling that he never bothered to mention.”

  A frowning Barney turned to her and leaned back against the counter, her hands on her hips. “Stranger than him not bothering to mention that you have two sisters? Frankly, I think that trumps not telling you about me. But you’re welcome to see my driver’s license.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to insult you. But Dad would never talk about his family or his childhood, other than to say that it was so unhappy he couldn’t bear to think about it, and that—” Cara began but Barney cut in.

  “What are you talking about?” Barney demanded. “Who had an unhappy childhood?”

  “Dad. He told us that talking about his chil
dhood only brought up bad memories, so we never pushed him about it.” Des looked at Allie, who nodded.

  “I guess that’s why he never brought us here or talked about Hidden Falls,” Allie said.

  “That’s the biggest crock of . . .” Barney laughed. “Total bull. For the record—the real record—we had a great childhood, and I never once heard him complain about a damned thing. He didn’t want to talk about it because sooner or later, you’d have asked to come here, and there were conditions to his coming home that he didn’t want to meet.”

  Before anyone could ask what those conditions were, she continued. “Allie, you’ve been here before. Spent almost a month with me after Des was born.”

  “No, I’m sure I’ve never been here. We’ve never met. I’d have remembered.” But as she spoke, Allie appeared hesitant, unsure.

  “You were only three, so I think you were probably too young to remember, but I have pictures somewhere. The camera doesn’t lie, girl. I looked for them when I heard you were coming, but I can’t seem to put my fingers on them. I can look again, if you’re interested.”

  The room was so quiet, Cara was certain she’d hear a pin drop.

  Finally, to break the silence, Barney said with forced enthusiasm, “Well, now that we all know who we are, who’s ready for soup?”

  “I stopped for dinner in town on my way here,” Cara told her.

  “Me too. I’m sorry,” Des told her. “I didn’t know anyone was here, and didn’t think there’d be food.”

  “Oh, goodness. No need to be sorry.” Barney brushed the apology aside. “Where’d you stop?”

  “The Hudson Diner,” Cara replied.

  “I stopped there as well,” Des said. “We ran into each other there, so we shared a table.”

  Allie turned to her sister. “You had dinner with her?” She yanked a thumb in Cara’s direction.

  “She has a name, Allie,” Des reminded her.

  Allie rolled her eyes and shook her head almost imperceptibly.

  “Seems to me you’re going to need each other a lot over the next year or however long it takes you to do what you have to do,” Barney noted. “Might be a good idea to be cordial. Maybe save your energy for what really counts.”

  “The next year?” Allie’s eyes widened. “Are you kidding me?”

  “I’m not a contractor, but I know when things are in bad shape and need a lot of fixing. Of course, I could be wrong. I haven’t been inside the theater in a while. Could be things magically got fixed on their own.” Barney shrugged.

  “I can’t stay here for a year,” Allie exploded. “I have responsibilities. I have a child.”

  “She’s welcome to visit anytime,” Barney assured her. “Maybe she’d like to spend her summer vacation here.”

  “Oh my God.” Allie collapsed on one of the window-seat cushions and put her head in her hands. “I could kill Dad for this.”

  “I’m afraid you’re a little late.” Barney took two bowls from the cupboard. “Soup, Allie?”

  Allie shook her head, got up, and started for the door, muttering in a shaky voice, “I need to call Nikki.”

  “You’re in the last room on the right side of the short hall upstairs.” Barney turned to Des and Cara. “You each have your own room and bath, but since there’s no maid service here, you’ll have to pick up after yourselves. I do have a cleaning service every other week but they’re not my maids. There’s an extra set of sheets and an extra blanket at the foot of your beds and towels in each of your bathrooms. Anything else you need to know about the accommodations?”

  Des and Cara both shook their heads.

  “Des, your room is right opposite Allie’s, and Cara, you’re next door to Des. I thought it’d be best to let you all stay in the same part of the house.” Barney ladled soup into one of the bowls, then placed it on the table.

  “How many bedrooms are there?” Des asked.

  “Seven, not counting the third floor. I remember my dad telling us that they had live-in maids back when he was growing up and they lived on the top floor, but those days are long gone. The third floor is all storage now. Neither my mother nor my grandmother could ever part with a darned thing. Sooner or later, everything, furniture, clothes, you name it, all ended up upstairs.”

  “It sounds like a fun place to explore,” Cara said.

  “You’re welcome to poke around anytime.” Barney opened a drawer and took out a spoon. “Girls, are you sure you don’t want to join me?”

  “I’m really full from dinner, but it smells wonderful,” Des said.

  “Our former cook’s recipe, refined for modern living.” Barney sat, then motioned for the others to join her at the table. “Unless you have someone you have to call, too.”

  “No, I’m good,” Cara told her as she sat on one of the other chairs.

  “Me too.” Des sat on the window seat her sister had vacated.

  “So who was on the register at the diner tonight?” Barney asked.

  “A woman with frizzy red hair,” Cara replied.

  Barney’s laugh was deep and hearty. “That would be Kim. She’s one of my early-morning walking partners.”

  “You walk in the mornings?” Des settled back on the cushion.

  Barney nodded. “Every morning. Some days it’s tougher than others to get out there, but I gotta do what I can to keep the creaks out of my knees. Don’t always like it. This year the cold’s lingered a little longer than last year, but by the time March rolls around, I’m used to it.”

  The room fell silent. Finally, Cara repeated her earlier question.

  “Barney, why didn’t our dad tell us about you? You must know why.”

  Barney held soup on her spoon for a moment to let it cool.

  Finally she said simply, “I didn’t approve of some of the things Fritz was doing.”

  “What things?” Allie came back into the room, her phone still in her hand.

  “She means me. Me and my mom.” Cara rested both arms on the table and leaned forward just a bit. “Right?”

  Des turned to her. “Why would you assume that?”

  “She”—Cara tilted her head in Barney’s direction—“said she had Allie here for a few weeks right after you were born. So Dad was coming here then and bringing his family. I was born almost two years after you, but Dad didn’t bring either of us here. So what happened after Allie’s visit?” Cara put her hand over her heart. “Susa happened. I happened.” She turned to Barney. “I’m right, aren’t I?”

  Barney put her spoon down quietly. “I never met your mother, so it isn’t that I didn’t like her, and I don’t judge her. It’s that I didn’t like what Fritz was doing. When Pete told me that Fritz had had a ‘private wedding ceremony’ on a beach somewhere in New Jersey, I was horrified. I said, ‘He and Nora just had another baby not so long ago. When did he have time to find another woman and get a divorce?’ When Pete told me the whole story, well, you could’ve knocked me over with a feather. Fritz called and said he wanted me to meet someone, but I said, ‘Did you take her to meet Nora?’ and of course he hadn’t. So I said, ‘You make it right with your wife—the legal one—and I’ll be happy to meet the new one.’ ” She got up and poured herself a glass of water and took a long drink. “I said, ‘Did you tell this woman you had a wife in California?’ ”

  “Did he?” Cara asked.

  “He never answered. He just said that he met the love of his life, his soul mate, and he couldn’t take the chance of losing her.” Barney took another drink, then returned to the table. “I told him to let me know when he’d decided to act like a man and come clean with both women, but until then, I didn’t want to see him.”

  “And you never saw or heard from him again?” Des asked.

  “Oh, he called me every year on my birthday, and I’d say, ‘So, Fritz. Did you have that heart-to-heart with your wives?’ And every year, he’d say, ‘I’m still working on it.’ And I’d say, “ ‘Okay, then. Talk to you next year.’ ”


  “So he never told them.” Cara thought it through. “And you never saw him again?”

  “He called me after he found out he was sick. Then when he found out just how sick he was, he had Pete drive him up here. Said he wanted to see me one last time, see the house, the town.” Barney wiped away a tear with her fingertips. “He went all over town those two days. I don’t know what all he saw or did—Pete took him around—but he seemed at peace at the end of the second day. Before he left, he told me what he’d set aside to keep this house going, so we could keep it in the family, and for a minute I thought, ‘There’s the old Fritz.’ ” She raised her eyes to the ceiling. “And then he told me what he’d put in his will about the three of you, and I said, ‘And there’s the Fritz who never met a harebrained idea he didn’t like.’ ”

  “So obviously you know all the details of his will and the stipulations.” Cara tapped her fingers on the side of her cup.

  “Oh, I told him. I said, Franklin Reynolds Hudson, for the love of all that’s holy, just call those girls and tell them the truth while you still can. But no. He thought he was clever, kill two birds with one stone, he said. Get the girls to know each other and their Hudson heritage while the theater gets fixed up.” She glanced from Cara to Des. “Either of you have construction experience?”

  “I know how to use a few tools,” Cara told her. “I worked on the renovations at my yoga studio. But real construction?” She shook her head.

  “Nothing at all for me,” Des said.

  “Allie?”

  Allie raised her eyes from her phone and met Barney’s gaze.

  “As I thought.” Barney ate a little more soup, then asked, “Do you have a plan?”

  “Not yet,” Cara said. “But we’ll work on one.”

  Barney finished her soup, then touched her napkin to the corners of her mouth. “Mind if I toss out an idea?”