by Tess Rothery
The other two had to be Kelly Kay and tiny Laurence, also known as Larry.
“I want to get the influencers in right away,” Jonah was saying, “but this is just a small area of compromise. They'll come eventually. In the meantime, or at least after our mansion-honeymoon period, Belle has some history kind of ideas. I don't know that they’re money making in any way that we would recognize as money making.” This was a laugh, to Taylor. He was used to making millions for being cute on the internet. Money had to have no recognizable meaning to him. “But it's educational, and she still seems to think there's some kind of value in that.” He held up two hands as though he had given up trying to understand women.
She rolled her eyes. “It's a historical house,” she said. “We have means and opportunity. We should use them to make the world a better place.”
“Do you think influencers don't make the world a better place?” he asked in mock horror.
“Oh honey,” she said, “you make the world a better place and probably some of the other ones do too. But if we don't learn our history, we are doomed to repeat it.”
“Isn't your whole plan to repeat history?” He leaned forward as though he was confronting her with a hard truth.
“We’re going to recreate history. Or maybe even interpret it. I want to try at least one historical interpretation weekend.” She turned to her sister with a look of bright hope on her face. Taylor did her best to pay attention. To them and their bickering.
“We've got plenty of beds and plenty of bathrooms to host small groups. We’d host people interested in living for a weekend like it's 1903, the year the house was built. I would need someone to teach them handcrafting. I thought you might like that. You're not needed at the store very often nowadays, are you? And maybe I could get one of the Rubens to teach us some basics of cooking.”
“I highly doubt the fine chefs of Reuben’s Diner are experts in the Victorian Culinary arts.” Jonah adopted an arch tone like an aristocrat.
“Edwardian,” Belle corrected. “Rather, since this is America, it would be called the Progressive Era. Though for the sake of getting people interested, we’d have to say something like ‘Downton Abbey’, which is fine, though it’s ten years after the house was built. Even then, the house was still new in the 1910s, so that would be fine.” What had started as a slight correction of facts had turned to a thoughtful muse on the topic. Taylor watched her, for a moment distracted from Hudson. She’d often wondered what it was like in Belle’s head, so stuffed with facts, some not as useful as others. This felt like a brief glimpse into that mind.
“Besides,” Grandpa Ernie’s gruff interjection pulled Taylor away from her thoughts. “People in a mansion didn't cook for themselves in 1900. Skip the cooking. Do something in that glass house you're building. Take all those girls in there and show them how to grow stuff.”
“Did people who lived in mansions do their own gardening in 1900?” Jonah asked.
“Ladies did,” Grandpa Ernie asserted. “Rich ladies went into their greenhouses and poked stuff in the dirt. They probably did more harm than good, but they tried. Just like how they made all those fussy lace things they didn’t need. Kept ‘em busy and out of trouble.”
“Still,” Belle sipped her ice water, “I would like them to try to make a loaf of bread or to churn some butter. I think it would be fun if not all of the guests were there in the role of a lady or a gentleman. But we'll see. I haven't ironed out the kinks yet. I probably couldn’t charge someone to come stay in our house as staff for a weekend could I, Gramps?” Her eyes twinkled.
Grandpa Ernie responded with a guffaw.
“What's the point of uninterrupted internet connectivity at unimaginable speeds if you were just going to run the house like it is 1903?” Jonah asked.
“We’ve built that for our future. I merely ask for one weekend. Just a few days to try something lovely in our lovely home. It couldn’t hurt anything could it?” She batted her pretty blue eyes at her husband, and he seemed to visibly melt.
Taylor looked away, letting them have their sweet moment. Though the young family, remarkably happy given their circumstances, who sat in the booth in front of her, were not easier to look at.
She was glad, at least, that she was staring at the back of Kelly's head. If Kelly Kay was anywhere near as dimply and charming as her sister Molly was said to have been, Taylor didn't think she could have taken it. Though this was hard enough.
She had a perfect view of Hudson and Larry. Hudson was leaning in next to the boy, with his hand leading over the one Larry gripped a fat crayon with. Larry said something in a lisping, childish voice as they colored together that made Hudson laugh a deep hearty laugh and then kiss the top of the boy's head.
A lump developed in Taylor’s throat. A thick, hard, jealous lump. It had only been a matter of days since Molly’s death. Had Hudson driven a twelve-hour trip through the night? Or maybe he had flown in. She had no idea how he had made it here this fast, and how he’d already developed such tender care for his son.
But he had managed it.
The little boy wiggled his hand out from under the guidance of Hudson, who must have been a bit of a stranger still. He stuck his little tongue out and hunched his shoulders with his arms rounded, protecting his work from the gentle influence of the big man next to him.
Hudson couldn't pull his eyes off the paper. Over the din of her family debating the best use for the mansion, she could hear soft warm tones of the woman whose pretty auburn hair she was looking at. “You like hamburgers this week, right?” Kelly asked the boy.
Larry didn't acknowledge her.
“I think I'll order him a hamburger, and if they'll give me apple slices with the French fries that'll probably be okay.” Her voice trembled. It must be terrifying after all these years of raising Larry to be faced with his biological father. Especially as Hudson seemed so pleased with him. “Look at the coffee options….” She tapped the page of the plastic covered menu. “They make Molly’s favorite.”
“An Almost Roca latte?” Hudson asked with a laugh.
“Silly.” Kelly’s voice had a teasing tone. “An almond caramel. I have to have one.”
“Sure.” Hudson seemed like he was only paying half attention to the pretty girl. His eyes hadn’t moved from the little fellow next to him.
It wasn't exactly the same as when Taylor was confronted with Belle’s biological mother and her yearning for her child, but it was close enough. The idea that you could invest all of that loving someone and have them taken away because some blood relation popped into the picture was frightening. She didn't want that for the young woman with the warm voice. She didn't want it any more than she wanted Hudson to actually have a son she had never heard about.
Hudson looked up and, though he probably had intended to talk to his dinner companion, he caught Taylor staring at him. He lifted his eyebrows, smiled, glanced at Larry and glanced back at Taylor.
The absolute pride and joy in his face lifted her heart, melted the lump in her throat, and brought a tear to her eye. How could she have ever wanted even for that split-second to have anyone keep that boy from Hudson? Hudson shifted his glance to Kelly and began to talk to her. Something about hamburgers and apples.
Taylor turned her attention back to Belle, or at least she tried. She had no reason to listen in to Hudson’s conversation. They were just talking about food, after all. Nothing important. Nothing related to the murder of Larry’s mom.
And yet, it was everything important in the whole world. Because if she hadn't fallen for someone else, that man and that boy would be her family. And the joy and the love that shone in Hudson's face made her wonder if she had been mistaken. Maybe she had truly loved him.
Maybe she still did.
Taylor took Grandpa Ernie out to the car while Belle and Jonah paid for dinner. As she was opening the door to her little Audi, a familiar hand tapped her on the shoulder. Her heart sprung in her chest. She knew if she turned
, she’d see Hudson and she'd want to throw her arms around him and apologize and ask him to give her another chance. Hearts are fickle things, and attraction is so often nothing more than the hormonal response to something beautiful and not the heart's response to what it really wants. And yet, her heart countered, what she really wanted right now was for Hudson to pull her into his arms and say all was forgiven and they could start again, right where they had left off.
She held her breath and turned.
The lopsided smile of the most familiar face in town greeted her. “Hey, Taylor.” Clay Seldon, the ex-boyfriend who was practically her sister's father-in-law now, slouched there with his hands in his pockets. “How you doing, Ernie?” he called over her shoulder to the man buckling up.
“Better than you’ll ever be.” Grandpa Ernie gritted his teeth.
Clay laughed. “Roxy sent me to find Jonah. I texted him, and he said he was here.”
“Why didn't Roxy text him?” Taylor stared at the vision in baggy khakis and a vintage Flour Sax T-shirt she could have sworn her dad used to wear. His hair looked like he’d just woken up, and his shoulders were rounded like he’d forgotten what standing up straight meant, and yet….and yet. She couldn’t help but look at that mug and like him.
“He's been ignoring her all day. They're disagreeing about the greenhouse, I guess. She thinks it's a waste of money and he thinks making his wife happy is never a waste of money. He's a smart boy, Taylor. He's a real smart boy.” He shook his head in faux amazement. “See you later.” He turned and ambled inside the restaurant.
Taylor's heart seemed to shift back into its normal place. She sighed a little and got around to the driver's side of her mom’s old car. Would she have been happy with Hudson and Larry and the little A-Frame house Hudson had built on that hill overlooking Moon Creek outside of town? Was the reflection of his joy in the face of the current murder investigation just too high a contrast for her? For the sake of that little boy, she had to focus on the murder, and get them the justice they deserved.
Chapter Ten
Belle and Jonah took Grandpa Ernie back to the Quinn farm and Taylor left her car on Main Street. She had to walk. And walk and walk. She headed to the end of Main Street and made it all the way to the Flour Mill Museum before her leg started complaining. She paused at the gate. She was all riled up inside, and why? Because…because there was no end without loss and no loss without pain. It was simple enough, wasn’t it? Hudson had a lot going for him. That face, for one. And the muscles. And the way he was such a good listener. And that’s what she lost when she ended the relationship. No matter how good her reason for ending it. Or not good, depending on whose opinion she was listening to at the time, it was a loss. And him with his son. A little sob welled up in her throat, but she knew better than to think her heart was breaking. But that vision of him…with his son. She could have been the woman sitting across from them both. And that could have been her family.
She took a few deep breaths of the cold, spring air. So cold. She could smell snow in the air and that wasn’t usual in early March. Not unheard of, but not welcome. She slipped her phone out of her pocket to check the time. It wasn’t late, and she didn’t have any new messages. She thumbed her way through her apps hoping for some kind of distracting alert. None were to hand, so she opened YouTube, filled with a deep longing for her mother.
And there she was, behind her worktable, smile in place, windblown blonde hair, and slightly pink cheeks. Taylor clicked play. It was the love video again, so she hit mute. And just watched as her mom laid out the pieces of fabric that would be bound together as love.
No, just as a heart.
Taylor sniggered, a little, remembering something she’d come across online once. A heart represented love now, but the shape initially hadn’t been a heart. The heart as we know it is upside down from how it started, as a less than innocent symbol of love, otherwise known as balls.
She closed her mom’s video. Bound together in love. Small pieces in contrast committed to forever as something better and bigger than they ever could have been on their own. A simple patch for a quilt, but a great picture of what Taylor felt in the moment she might never have.
But she was over thirty, and it was reasonable to feel a little panicked, so she thought. What had driven someone as young as Coco, or Molly for that matter, to give up on romance and turn to such a mercenary transaction instead?
Larry. Young Laurence. That was what had motivated Molly.
Knowing Hudson as well as Taylor did, Molly hadn’t needed to turn to a rich man. Hudson would have done anything for that boy.
The slight and elegant form of Asha Szkolaski rested against the post of Taylor’s front porch. It was a chilly March evening—there had even been a threat of snow—and the girl was only wearing The Yarnery’s T-shirt.
“Asha!” Taylor ran across her yard.
The girl straightened and shook herself as though she’d been lost in thought. “Yes, thank you. I mean, yes. Um, Taylor, can we talk?” Her words seem to tangle on the way out, but other than a little distracted, she looked fine.
“Definitely. Come inside with me. It’s freezing, can I get you a coffee, or tea?”
“No, it’s fine.”
But as no one had been in the little house on Love Street all day long, it was frigid inside. Taylor clicked the electric fire on to take the chill off the front room. “Are you sure?”
“No, I am. I mean, I’m sure. Yes. I’m fine.” Asha folded her thin arms with her fingers tucked in and began to pace the room. “I did it. I did it and I think it’s going to be huge. At first it was about maybe making my dreams come true, you know?”
“Slow down. What did you do?” Taylor flipped the table lamps on. The room was dark, but she didn’t want to open the curtains. She’d grown cautious again after her last investigation. Not panicking like those early months after catching her mother’s killer, but cautious. There was no need for passersby to see Taylor and Asha together. A little care could keep the girl alive.
“I went to Coco’s website and signed up. Then I called Coco and asked if I could have a date with Molly’s daddy.” Asha’s big eyes twinkled with excitement.
“Hold on. That’s dangerous. What are you thinking?” Taylor sat on her slip covered sofa with a thump. All the curtains in the world couldn’t protect a young woman asking for dates with dangerous men.
“I know, it is. Isn’t it exciting? I’m scared but thrilled. I don’t care if I get money for it. I might be able to catch the man who killed my friend.”
“We need to plan this carefully. You can’t go into this alone.”
“That’s what I was hoping you would say. I want you to come too. I mean, not come with me, but be there somewhere to see what’s happening. Maybe you and Hudson.”
Taylor didn’t correct the girl. “Do you have a date set up?”
“Yes, we’re going to an artsy movie at The Rio over in McMinnville. But here’s the funny thing, we were wrong about Robert. That’s not who she’s been dating at all. This guy’s name is Charles Holden. I asked her to double check. Said I wanted to make him feel better, to um, comfort him. I thought the kind of man who’d pay for a girlfriend would pay for a replacement girlfriend if he was sad. I made her show me the account and it was true: the last few dates Molly had were with this Charles guy.”
“Everything seemed to be pointing to how happy Molly and Jack were with each other. I wonder what made her start seeing someone else.”
“I guess if she was like, um, a service, she’d go with the person who paid the most? Coco didn’t let me see the numbers.” Asha drew her fingers through her bright blonde hair.
“You’re sure about what you saw? She was seeing a lot of this Charles guy?”
Asha stiffened. “I’m not stupid. I just sometimes get things crossed when I’m speaking.” Her chin jutted out, but also quivered a little.
Taylor immediately felt guilty. She’d been young and underestimated
before. Plenty of times. She held her hand out to Asha though she was too far away to touch her. “Sorry. I didn’t mean you were stupid. Coco mentioned that sometimes Molly saw other men. Said it was a favor to her. I was just under the impression it wasn’t anything serious. No one Molly had feelings for. But then, Coco had mentioned this man who was a widower. Maybe that was Charles.” Taylor walked to the kitchen, even if Asha didn’t want anything, she could use a hot drink. “Jack Groening was paying her bills. But it looks like Molly was double dipping. I’d love to know what Jack thought of that.”
Asha followed her in. “If he was her real boyfriend, he wouldn’t like it. And everything I read online says Sugar Daddy’s and Babies are real relationships. Like, they respect each other and love money. Err, I mean, instead of love, they sort of trade in money. I don’t know, but they made it sound like it had to be exclusive.”
“What made it sound that way?”
“I read a bunch of Sugar Baby blogs. And the babies made it sound like a good daddy was worth being faithful to.”
“Then maybe Jack wasn’t any good….” It was gross. No matter which way she sliced it, that felt gross to call a man like that “daddy”. “But back to your date at The Rio. What are you planning?”
“I’m meeting him there, and we’re watching a movie and then having dinner if it goes well.”
“At Truie’s Diner?”
“How did you know?”
“Stumbled into that one on accident, it turns out. I want to be there. I want to follow you guys in, if possible, and see if I can hide somewhere and watch you. Me and Graham, I think, would be best. I’ll call him. Will you make sure I have the right time?” She held out her phone. “Can you put your number in?”
Asha accepted the phone and made herself a contact. “I think this could be fun.”