Midnight at the Blackbird Café

by Heather Webber

Wicklow, Alabama, isn’t any old ordinary town, young man.

especially the ones about my father. I wasn’t ready to go

Under midnight skies, Blackbirds sing, Loving notes, Baked in pies, Under midnight skies.

Your roots will pull you back where you belong.”

Coast Avian Society from Mobile, and we’re here for the Turdus merula. Have you seen one?

were as familiar to the townsfolk as the courthouse,

Times are changing, and we need to change right along with them, don’t we?”

While on earth, it’s the job of us guardians to tend to the trees, nurture them, and gather their love to bake into pies to serve those who mourn, those left behind. You see, the bonds of love are only strengthened when someone leaves this earth, not diminished. Some have trouble understanding that, so it’s the pie that determines who’s in need of a message, a reminding, if you will; it’s the love in the pie that connects the two worlds; and it’s a tree keeper who delivers the message.

For where your roots are, your heart is.

me off-guard, and I looked more closely at her. That’s when I saw the familiar look

“Please don’t call me ‘ma’am.’ I beg of you. Anna Kate is just fine.” “Do you think you’ll be needing another dozen tomorrow … Anna Kate?” I ignored the fact that she sounded physically pained to say my name instead of “ma’am,” and said, “If you’ve got them, I’ll take them. I see you’ve been working with blackberries. I could use some of those, too, if you have extra.” Suddenly, I wanted to make cobbler. A shimmer of excitement flashed in her eyes. “How much are you wanting? A pint? Quart? Gallon?” “A quart is fine. I

“Oh, the snakes don’t bother me none. I like them more than people sometimes.”

You get to be my age, and you start counting regrets at night instead of sheep.”

“I’ve decided regret is like cancer. It eats you from the inside out, just the same. I have to accept the fact that I can’t change the past. I can’t. No one can. What’s done is done, and I’m truly sorry for it.”

We can’t go back.” He shoved his hands into his pockets and rocked on his heels. “But we can go forward.

t.” I reached for the handle of the screen

was at the café?” “Yes, peeking in like a stalker, when she’s refused to even look at that place

A house that had a growth chart penciled on a doorjamb, marking height milestones from toddlerhood to teenager. A garden that didn’t need to be planted in a container on a small balcony because apartments didn’t have yards. Sunday dinners with generations gathered around the table. Big family holidays, with everyone gathered around, laughing and squabbling and loving.

were down, and Gideon leaned toward the passenger side. “You okay, Anna Kate?

do some mountain biking, and Wicklow didn’t let go.” Up close, I could see he had some age on him. I guessed early to midthirties. Shallow crow’s feet spread from the corners of his eyes even when he wasn’t smiling, and strong lines bracketed his mouth under

of honey.” Grateful he hadn’t pushed the Doc subject, I turned the jar, warm from the heat of the day, examining the way the

they kept silent, the sicker I felt. Minutes ticked by. The birds would be gone soon, back into the leafy tunnel. “What am I doing wrong?” But even as I asked, I knew. Instinctively, I knew. The missing ingredient. I needed to figure out what it was. You’ll put it all together one day, Anna Kate, when you’re older. I was quite a bit older now and still had no idea. My eyes stung with frustrated

I sucked in a breath when I saw two blackbirds sitting on the sill.

Grief was a capricious companion. Sometimes distant and aloof. Sometimes so overwhelming it was hard to think a straight thought. Its mood changed at whim, making it emotionally exhausting to keep up.

bella </3

There were times, like right now, when it felt as though I’d been grieving my whole life long.

:,)

When I was younger I’d spent a lot of time glued to his side as he read me books, one after another after another—it was our favorite thing to do together, to disappear into the pages of another world.

“Daddy, if I called you for every bad dream I had, you’d never get a good night’s rest.”

I wished I hadn’t. Even though I spoke the truth, I didn’t like exposing my emot...

“Asking for help doesn’t mean you’re weak, Natalie. It’s a sign of strength.”

Their truth. But had it been the whole truth?

“Overcoming the past is a challenge,

your relationship with her isn’t about what happened back then. It’s about what happens from here on out.”

The walls were painted eggplant purple. The deep sofa was mint green, and the floral upholstery on the single armchair was a riot of colors.

The whole apartment, while colorful, reminded me of nature.

dream house

Traumatic events leave emotional wounds that’re hard to heal. Everyone has their own way of getting through it.”

“Better today than yesterday.”

“And tomorrow will be better than today, just you wait and see.

“We all have to grow up sometime, don’t we?”

all I’d learned was that the pain of denying oneself friends was worse than leaving them when it was time to go.

I’d spent a lot of time in libraries—which had been sanctuaries in the hours between school letting out and when my mother came home from work.

“It’s important to follow your own path.”

wallet, and tucked the rest into an old metal watch box that I hid

after this morning.” He bent and opened his arms wide, and Ollie went running toward him. “Gaddy!” Ollie shouted. It was her shorthand for “granddaddy.” I was learning that toddlers were quite inventive

bella </3

you the prettiest thing I’ve seen all day,” he said to Ollie, fluffing the gossamer petals of her costume

:,)

“Grief can change a person to the point where they become someone they don’t know, or even like very much.

whew

The healing’s got to come from within you.

for a glimpse of the rare birds. They’d arrived in full force this morning, and not a crumb of pie remained by noon. All those pies had held a secret—a teaspoonful of mulberry syrup, which on its own was pretty

it. The flavor of the mulberry came across boldly to me, as if my taste buds had been searching for it all along,

I had the feeling the proper secret ingredient was a fully ripened mulberry, but I still didn’t know how Zee had managed

we talked of weekend plans. It reminded me of Zee and me, holding hands as we walked along dense wooded