The Last Chance Matinee

by Mariah Stewart

  “In the meantime, grab that briefcase behind my seat.”

  She reached around behind him and pulled the brown case to her.

  “Open it. There’s a large envelope right inside.”

  She opened it to find a thin stack of photos.

  “The theater! Where did you find these?” she exclaimed.

  “My grandmother had them. When I told her I was going to be working with you all, she started looking for them. She said Barney has a ton of them, but ‘knowing Barney, she has no idea where they are.’ ”

  Cara studied the photos. “These are lovely. Look at that lobby. It’s exquisite. The paintings and the frescoes and the ceiling . . . It’s so wonderful to see it as it was back then.”

  “These were taken when the place first opened. My great-granddad did some of the stucco work when it was first built, so he was always given VIP passes for whatever was going on.” He braked at a stop sign and selected a photo from the stack. He put his finger on a couple dressed in what must have been the fashion of the day. “Here are your great-grandparents . . .”

  “The woman with the long fur dangling over her shoulder?”

  He nodded. “And the man in the hat they’re talking to . . . that’s my great-grandfather.”

  “Do you think I could borrow these, just to show Des and Allie?”

  “Keep ’em. I scanned and printed copies for you. I knew you’d want them.”

  They approached an intersection where the light had turned yellow. Joe slowed to a stop behind a mail truck.

  “Thank you, Joe. That’s so thoughtful.” She held the photos in one hand and looked at him. Really looked at him. Saw the way he was looking at her—and deep inside she felt a zing she hadn’t been sure she’d ever feel again.

  She cleared her throat and shifted uncomfortably in her seat. His smile said he knew exactly what she was thinking.

  “I . . . ah . . . can’t wait to share these with Des and Allie. And Barney.”

  “You already said that.”

  “I did?” She frowned. “Sorry. I was so excited. About seeing the photos, I mean.”

  She wondered if she could get through the rest of the drive without speaking. It seemed every time she opened her mouth, she was in danger of giving herself away. The thought of him was far too new, and she wasn’t sure she wanted him to know just how much he’d gotten through to her, past her defenses and around all the resolve.

  “When is that idiot ex of yours getting married?” he asked, his eyes still locked on hers.

  “Ah . . . the third weekend in the month. A week from Saturday.”

  He frowned. “No, the third Saturday is this coming weekend.”

  “What? No. That can’t be right.”

  “Town council meets on the third Wednesday, which is this week. Which would make this Saturday also the third of the month.”

  “Oh. Well. I guess it is, then.”

  “How ’bout we go out and celebrate on Saturday night? Say goodbye to that old life of yours. You know, out with the old, in with the new?”

  “I don’t know. I haven’t thought about how I want to spend that night.”

  “Trust me. You’ll never come up with something as cool as what I have planned.”

  “That almost scares me,” she deadpanned.

  “Nothing to fear. But I do have the perfect way to celebrate the occasion.” The light turned green and he drove through the intersection.

  “Dare I ask . . . ?”

  “Saturday night is bluegrass night at the gun club.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “Go ahead. Top that.”

  “That’s a joke, right?”

  He shook his head from side to side. “Nope.”

  “Bluegrass night at the gun club.”

  “Best time you’ll ever have. Think it over.” He made a left turn onto a dirt road. “And the rest of the Hudson girls are welcome to join us. Even the young one. Good opportunity for her to meet other kids her age.”

  Cara knew she was staring at him, but since he didn’t seem to mind, neither did she. “Well. I hardly know what to say. I mean, how does one turn down an invitation like that?”

  “One does not. So is it a date?”

  “I’m still stuck on the thought of Nikki meeting other kids her age. What kid thinks a night out at the gun club is a cool thing?”

  “You’d be surprised.” He lowered his voice. “You might have noticed there’s not a whole lot for kids to do in Hidden Falls. Especially for kids who aren’t old enough to drive. Some weekends, it’s the gun club or nothing.”

  “I may have a difficult time selling that to Allie.”

  “Date?”

  Cara nodded. “Sure. Date.”

  He pulled into what once was a parking lot but was now a sea of broken concrete and clumps of grass.

  “Where are we?” Cara looked around and saw nothing but tall pines.

  “Compton Lake. Back when I was a kid, it was the place to go to have a good time.” He opened his door and hopped out.

  Cara didn’t wait for him to come around to her side and met him in front of the truck.

  “It’s a little . . . Is creepy too strong a word?” Cara frowned. Why would he bring her to such a place? “I don’t see a lake. Actually, I don’t see much of anything.”

  “There’s plenty to see. Come on.” He took her by the hand and led her to a path between the trees.

  “If Barney hadn’t vouched for you, I’d be worrying about your motives right now,” she said. “Did you ever see that movie So I Married an Axe Murderer?”

  Joe laughed and directed her to a side path to their left.

  “Great flick,” he told her.

  “Figures.”

  They walked a short distance more before a clearing opened up.

  “Compton Lake, as promised.”

  “It’s beautiful,” she said, and it was. The lake was the truest of blues and, in the sunlight, seemed to reflect the sky. The surface was perfectly calm, and around the perimeter, tall pines grew straight. The effect was serene, like a painting come to life. “Breathtaking.”

  “This is as pristine a mountain lake as you’ll find in the Poconos. There are a lot of lakes, but most of them are in the areas where there’s been the most development. Hidden Falls, as you probably noticed, has no little faux-Alpine cottages or A-frame cabins.”

  “Why is that?” she asked. “How did Hidden Falls escape the developers?”

  “A lot of the land around the outskirts of town belongs to one family, and they always refused to sell. I heard they’ve turned down millions in the past.” He nodded toward the lake. “The lake and the surrounding woods belong to them, too.”

  “So they didn’t sell because they didn’t need the money, or because they thought they weren’t offered enough?”

  “I think it was because they liked things the way they were, but you can ask Barney. I’m sure her father told her why he decided against selling.”

  “The Hudsons own this?” Cara frowned. Barney hadn’t mentioned owning land outside of town. Then again, the subject had never come up.

  Joe nodded. “Right down to the boathouse and the dock where that canoe is tied up. Come on.”

  She followed him to the end of the dock, wondering what he was up to.

  He pulled the rope that held the canoe to move it next to the dock.

  “Ever been in a canoe?” he asked.

  “Not since I was in high school and a bunch of us decided to explore the Pine Barrens.” She watched the canoe bob up and down. “There’s no way I’m going to get into that thing without tipping it over.”

  “Sure there is.” Joe lowered himself into the canoe, then held it steady against the dock. “One foot at a time, or we’ll both be in the water.”

  The sun was sparkling on the lake and warming the air, and Joe was holding out his hand to her, his eyes as bright as the sunlight on the water. She took his hand and stepped gingerly into the canoe.

  “Okay, sit right
there.” He gestured to the seat in front of her.

  He sat across from her, then handed Cara an oar.

  “You know how this is done, right? We paddle on opposite sides at the same time, then we switch.”

  Cara nodded. “I remember.”

  He pushed off from the dock and dipped his oar into the water. It took a few tries before they’d synched their strokes, but soon they were headed across the lake, competently, if not smoothly.

  “So you were going to show me how to read an estimate to determine whether we’re being overcharged or not,” she said.

  “Look for the labor charge—it should be on an hourly rate unless we negotiated a flat price—and should clearly show the number of hours.”

  “How do I know if the hourly rate is too high?”

  “Ask me.”

  Cara laughed. “That’s your tutorial? Ask you?”

  “I know what everyone should charge. The electricians, for example, charge anywhere from seventy to one hundred dollars an hour. Most trades are in that range.”

  “Yow.”

  Joe nodded. “That’s why you want to be present on the jobsite, so that when the bill comes in, you’ll know if the time has been exaggerated. And you want to make sure the timing is good. You don’t want the plumbers showing up on the job, standing around at that hourly rate while they wait for the electricians to get out of their way.”

  “Got it.”

  “What else do you want to know?”

  Cara shook her head. “There’s a lot about construction that I don’t know. However, I do know that you’re undercharging us by a considerable amount of money. We’ve discussed it and we’re upping your fee by fifty thousand dollars.”

  “Look, I owe Barney for—”

  “This isn’t Barney’s project. If you want to show your gratitude to her, take her out to dinner once in a while. Send her flowers. But don’t confuse what you feel you owe her with what you’re doing at the theater. We want to be fair with everyone who works for us, and paying you way less than what your time is worth simply isn’t fair. Whatever you think you owe Barney is between you and her, but has nothing to do with this project.” She paused. “Apples and oranges, Joe. Get it?”

  He nodded slowly. “Got it.”

  They paddled quietly for a moment. Then Joe said, “If you have any questions about the work or what any of the contractors are doing, ask me. You have every right to know and every right to ask. Don’t let anyone intimidate you, hear? The theater belongs to you and your sisters, so whatever you say goes. You’re the boss. Don’t let anyone—even me—try to talk you into anything until you understand exactly what it is that you’re agreeing to.”

  “Thanks, Joe.”

  “Sure. Oh, by the way, I found the plans for the building.”

  “Where were they?”

  “In my mother’s garage. My dad apparently did some work for the guy who’d bought the theater from Fritz. When the guy went under, my dad rolled up the plans and stuck them on a shelf in the garage. I’ll have copies made for Liz and save a set for you.”

  “That would be great, Joe. Thanks.”

  “So. How ’bout having dinner with me tomorrow night?”

  “I can’t. I promised Des I’d go to some meeting with her.”

  “The town council meeting?”

  “I guess. She said it was at the police station.”

  “Why would she want to go to a council meeting?”

  Cara shrugged. “Something about dog ordinances.”

  “Des brought a dog with her?”

  “No, but she’s thinking about doing some type of rescue, or fostering abused dogs. It’s something she did back in Montana, and she misses it.”

  “Are you sure she isn’t going just to see Seth again?”

  “Who?”

  “Never mind. Well, I might see you there. It might be my month to give the fire report.”

  “What fire report?”

  “Report to the council on how many fires we had in town over the past thirty days. How many times we took the pumper out. The volunteer fire department—of which I am a member—reports to the council every month. Since we don’t really have a chief, we take turns reporting. So if it’s my month, I’ll see you there.”

  “Well, aren’t you just a jack-of-all-trades. How many fires were there in Hidden Falls last month?”

  “Yes, I am.” He steered the canoe toward the shoreline. “And there were none. We had the EMTs out twice, once for a suspected heart attack that turned out to be indigestion, and once for a fall in the parking lot behind the diner. Edie Parsons, who is about ninety, slipped on a banana peel and broke her hip.”

  “I thought the old banana peel thing was just for cartoons.”

  “She wasn’t laughing.”

  “Are you an EMT also?”

  Joe nodded. “I was a medic in the army.”

  “Were you stateside, or—”

  “Or Iraq, yes. I did my time, then got out and came home while I was still in one piece.”

  “You’re lucky,” she said.

  “You have no idea.”

  Cara could feel Joe’s eyes on her. Finally, he said, “You want to ask, right? What it was like? It was hell.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said softly.

  “It’s one of those crazy things. On the one hand, I wish to God I’d never gone. That I hadn’t seen some of the things I’ve seen. On the other hand, I wouldn’t have missed it. I served with some of the finest human beings I’ve ever met, men and women. I got to see what true courage is, the kind that makes heroes out of ordinary men. I saw selfless acts that took my breath away, saw men risk their lives to save civilians as well as their buddies. I saw the best in men, and, unfortunately, at times I saw the worst. But I saw that the good guys outnumber the bad by far, and it’s the good I want to remember.” Joe’s oar went still in the water. “And as a medic, I remember everyone we couldn’t save.”

  “Joe, I can’t even imagine how difficult it must be to live through that, then to come back and be the same person you were when you left.”

  “No one’s the same, Cara. You can’t unsee, you can’t undo. But if you’re lucky, you’ll learn something important from the experience that goes with you when you leave.”

  “Would I be out of line asking what you learned?”

  “Not at all. But I should put it in context.” He resumed paddling for a moment, then stopped again, and they drifted on the smooth surface of the lake toward the opposite shore. “I joined the army because I wanted to escape Hidden Falls and I couldn’t afford to leave and go anyplace else. Growing up as the son of the town drunk was really tough. My father’s shadow followed me everywhere I went. I went to college and it was great having four years where I didn’t have to be embarrassed about my family, where there were no whispers when I went to class in the morning because of something my father had done the night before. But college was only four years, and I had the rest of my life ahead of me. I was really torn about where to go, what to do. Of course, my mother wanted me to come back home, but I couldn’t face that scene again. So Ben and Seth and I talked it over and decided we’d enlist together right after we graduated. We thought we’d be serving together, but the army had other ideas. Ben got into the military police and stayed in the States. Seth and I were deployed, but not at the same time. He was injured and shipped home within eighteen months, so he was out before Ben or I came home. I think he’d have traded the extra time home for that shot he took in the leg.”

  “I don’t know Seth,” she told him.

  “He was at the Bullfrog the other night. I saw him talking to Des at the bar. Tall guy, bald, lots of tats?”

  “I only saw him from the back,” Cara said. “You really chose the army over Hidden Falls?”

  “It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

  “That important thing you learned . . .” she reminded him.

  “For so long, I couldn’t wait to leave, and after bei
ng away, seeing what the world is really like, I learned the only things that really matter are the people in your life. Your family, your friends. It’s such a cliché, right? But when you see what we saw over there, it all becomes crystal clear.” Joe sighed. “So at the risk of sounding like Dorothy, I learned there really is no place like home.

  “So you’re planning on staying in Hidden Falls?”

  He shrugged. “I’m a lifer.”

  “It’s not a bad place to live. I’m enjoying my time here. I miss my friends and my studio. I miss teaching. But I like the pace here. It suits my temperament.”

  “It’s that laid-back vibe you got from your mother.”

  “That’s probably true.”

  Joe began to paddle, and Cara followed suit. “Anyway, that’s the story of the three amigos who had visions of fighting the enemy together and coming back to a welcome-home parade.”

  “No parade?”

  “Seth got a party at the Frog.” He smiled good-naturedly. “Which I missed because I was still dumping sand out of my clothes in the desert. I’m just happy that part of my life is over, and I’m here.” He paused. “Actually, I’m glad you’re here, too.”

  Cara nodded slowly. “Me too.”

  “Let’s head for that shady area and get out of the sun.” Joe pointed to a section of the lake where the trees grew almost to the waterline. Once out of the direct sunlight, the air was cooler and the scent of the pines was stronger.

  “By the way, I emailed my contract to Pete Wheeler for him to look over,” Joe said.

  “I thought he was going to draw up the contract.”

  “I wanted to use my own. It seems to me that sometimes lawyers make things more complicated than they need to be. So I typed up my own and sent it to him this morning. I haven’t heard back from him yet, but it’s early.”

  “Can I have a copy of what you sent him?”

  “It’s in my briefcase. It’s not that complicated. It says that I’ll act as your project manager from this date until the project is finished, and it says how much I’m charging you.”

  “Which has to be changed,” Cara reminded him, but gestured for him to continue.

  “In the event either party wants to void the contract, we can do so with thirty days’ notice. That gives either of us a month, me to finish up whatever might be outstanding, you to find someone else. Read it over and tell me if you think we should add anything else.”