2. Hudson
CHAPTER 2
Hudson
"I'm sorry, sweetheart. I love surprises, but this one might've needed a little more advanced warning if you wanted to be able to stay here."
"Why? I wouldn’t have let you tear all this down if it makes you happy," I told the beloved aunt who raised me. I gazed around the space that once felt like the safest place in the world to me. Gone were my sports trophies and video game posters, and in their place were a whole lot of items I didn’t have the names for. "Don't worry about it. I'll... uh... I can sleep on the couch."
"Nonsense. I’ve already booked you a room at the inn."
"I can get my own room?—"
"Nonsense to that, too. I did it the second we got off the phone this morning. I’m the one who turned your old room into a craft room and my guest room into a home gym. It was the least I could do."
I opened my mouth to argue, but my aunt just shot me a smile that suggested she'd won, and she knew it.
Ida brushed by me on her way to the kitchen, so I followed, setting my duffle on the floor by the front door. I’d traveled light from Japan, with the rest of my belongings being shipped by the military. Soon, I’d need to find a place of my own, and it likely wouldn't be in Snow Hill. The small town where I’d grown up was about an hour away from the recruiting station where I’d be working come the new year. Even though spending Christmas with Ida in my childhood home had sounded like a welcome retreat after everything I’d been through lately, I doubted an hour-long commute was in the cards.
But a place to live was a problem for future Hudson, and Ida likely wouldn't let me change her mind about staying at the inn. So, for now, I’d relax and spend what time I could with her while I was on my extended holiday leave.
"Tell me about your trip. How were the flights? Three legs, right?"
I groaned, bone-weary just thinking about the exhausting thirty hours of travel. Not to mention the fact that being so close to Christmas meant the airports were a mess. But, as usual, I couldn't whine about it to Ida. She'd taught me how to see the bright side of any bad situation. In the last few years, I hadn't been as good at that, but I didn’t need to prove that during our first face-to-face conversation.
"None of my flights were canceled, and I didn't sit next to a single crying baby."
Ida grinned. "Sounds like the perfect travel day."
I smiled back. Canceled flights and crying babies would've been much worse than delayed flights and fighting couples—which had happened.
See? Bright side.
We spent the next hour sitting at the kitchen table in the three-bedroom farmhouse where I’d spent my youth, catching up about everything and nothing. I’d forgotten how much I missed talking to her. She was nothing like my mother, despite being her older sister. When my parents failed at the game of life, Ida had taken me in and loved me like I were her own. I couldn't be more grateful. In fact, just sitting here with Ida had a little of the sadness and grief creeping into a dark corner of my mind as if scared of her light.
At this rate, I’d be halfway to happy by the time I started my new job as a Marine recruiter in Harrisburg.
"Oh, and look what Joan and I are cooking up this Christmas," Ida said, holding out a flyer with a flourish.
I expected the paper to be something related to literal cooking, then frowned when I saw it was some kind of holiday letter exchange. "Secret pen pals?"
Ida nodded. "Doesn't it look fun?"
"Uh, sure. How does it work?"
"Well, people who want to participate will drop their letters in the pretty red mailbox we bought from Cathy's shop. It's in the foyer at the inn, so that'll be handy for you since you're staying there."
"Uh—"
"Then," she continued, bulldozing right over my attempt to get out of this, "Joan and I will pair up the pen pals and deliver the letters each night. You don't have to write one every day, of course, but we figured we'd take a nightly walk delivering whatever is there, and that would get us our steps. We've got goals for the month, you know."
"Isn't it a little cold for nightly walks?"
She scoffed. "What's a little cold when you're trying to hit a step goal? We take our monthly and annual step goals very seriously. Anyway, Abby Rhodes—she's a cute kid who is basically a grandchild to Joan—set up this form. She said you just take a picture of this black and white box, and you’re entered!"
Ida sounded so delighted by the process—like it were magic rather than technology—that I didn't have the heart to let her in on the actual steps of scanning the code with the camera, then clicking to open it in the browser, then filling out the form from there. She wasn't the one signing up, and people would figure it out.
"Well, what are you waiting for?" Ida pressed when I didn't make a move for my phone. She lifted it off the table for me, holding it out. "Go on. Sign up."
I hesitated. "Aunt Ida, I'm not so sure if?—"
Ida feigned smacking her forehead, letting out a musical giggle. "Oh, my memory is going, I swear. You don't have to fill it out, sweetheart."
I let out a sigh of relief. Ida’s memory was an iron fortress. There was no way her memory was going, so that must mean she’d remembered why I wouldn't want to participate. But who could blame me? Finding out in a letter that my ex had cheated on me and wanted to break up had made an already rough deployment so much worse. They called them "dear John" letters in the military, and I didn't know who John was, but I sure knew how he felt.
Grateful I didn't have to remind Ida of why I had no interest in ever having a pen pal again, I sat back in my chair.
"Don't you wanna know why you don't have to sign up?" Ida asked, looking puzzled that I hadn't asked.
“Because you know I wouldn’t want to?”
She shook her head with a smile.
Dread settled in my gut. "Um, then, why?"
"Because you’re already signed up. Abby needed to sign someone up to test it, and I was still giddy after hearing you were coming for a visit, so I volunteered you. Perfect timing, really.”
"You signed me up already?"
"Well, Abby did, like I said. Aren't you excited?"
Excited wasn’t the word I’d use. Letters carried too much weight, too much potential for things to go wrong. The last time I’d put pen to paper, it had ended in a gut punch I still felt sometimes, even a year later. I wanted to tell Ida no, to explain why this wasn’t for me. But the way her eyes sparkled reminded me that this was Snow Hill—a place where cynicism felt like a sin.
Still, I had to back out. But before I could even think of a way to let her down easily, there was a knock at the door.
"Expecting someone?" I asked, automatically rising from the table.
"Oh, you know this town, sweetheart. It could be anyone."
I grunted, peering through the peephole. I wasn't sure why I was so paranoid. It wasn't like we had an off-the-charts crime rate around here. But there was just something about my aunt living alone in this house and knowing anyone could drop by at any moment that unnerved me. And when I saw a uniformed police officer through the peephole, I didn't feel much better.
I pulled open the door. “Officer. How can we help you?"
The officer—Sullivan, according to the name on the front of his uniform—held out his hand. "You must be the famous nephew Ida won't stop talking about. Call me Tommy."
I looked over my shoulder at my aunt, who grinned as she rose from the kitchen table. "He sure is! Tommy, come on in. This is my Hudson."
"Nice to meet you," Tommy and I said at the same time as we shook hands.
I wasn't sure why my arrival warranted a visit from the local PD or why Ida appeared to be so friendly with this officer, but I followed Tommy to the table and took a seat.
"Coffee, Tommy?" Ida asked from the kitchen. She must've known he'd say yes—or didn't care whether he wanted some or not. She was already pouring him a cup, then set it down in front of him along with a fresh one for me. “Did Sofia get in safely?”
Tommy accepted the steaming mug with a grateful nod. "She did, thanks. Rolled in late last night." He took a sip, savoring the rich aroma. "I'm just glad she decided to come back here for the holidays. I’m a little worried about her. Apparently, she quit her job back home before she showed up. I have no idea why, but I’ll figure out what’s going on."
Ida patted his hand, her eyes warm with understanding. "I know how much she means to you, and I’m sure you will."
I listened to the exchange, piecing together the connection between my aunt and the officer. It felt familiar, almost like how Ida had taken me in. Now that I thought about it, Ida mentioned that she had someone who helped around the house with things like hanging Christmas lights or clearing the gutters. This must be him.
“It might not be a terrible idea for Sofia to stick around now that she’s jobless,” Tommy mused as he sipped his coffee. “Maybe she can settle in, and I can keep a better eye on her. Make sure she’s not getting herself into any trouble.”
“Because you’re a cop?” I couldn’t help but ask.
Tommy slid me a wry look. “Because she’s a magnet for it.”
My curiosity deepened. Tommy’s words carried a protective weight, like Sofia was someone worth worrying about. I didn’t know the full story yet, but if this Sofia was as much trouble as Tommy hinted, I couldn’t help but wonder exactly what kind of trouble they were talking about.
“Oh, hush,” Ida scolded. “I’d say Sofia is more of a… Oh, how do I put this? She’ll do whatever it takes to help out in a pinch, and I can tell she’d go down swinging. She’s the kind of woman who wants to see the best in everyone.”
“Yeah, even when they prove time and time again that they can’t be trusted.” Tommy shook his head. The way they spoke about Sofia made her sound both frustrating and endearing—like someone who could light up a room and turn it upside down in the same breath. I didn’t know her, but from the sound of it, she was the kind of person you couldn’t ignore, even if you wanted to.
Tommy turned his attention to me. "So, Ida mentioned you've been serving overseas."
I shifted in my seat, the weight of my experiences settling heavily on my shoulders. "Yep. I'm on leave for the holidays. Figured it was time to come home, spend some quality time with Aunt Ida before I start my new job Stateside."
"And I couldn't be happier to have him here. Though I do wish I hadn't converted his old room into a craft haven," Ida added with a rueful chuckle. “I was lucky to get him a room at the Inn. I was worried there wouldn’t be any left this close to Christmas.”
“I’m sure Nick and Joan would’ve figured something out,” Tommy said. “They always do.”
Nick Patterson had probably taken over the bulk of the work at the inn by now, as he’d always planned to. I was close with Nick when we were kids, but we’d drifted apart once I joined the Marines. It’d be good to see him, even if it meant staying in the overly festive inn rather than my childhood bedroom. I didn’t have anything against Christmas, but after what I’d been through lately, I wasn’t feeling very festive.
“I was in the Army before I joined the Philly PD,” Tommy offered, breaking into my thoughts. “Then I came here.”
“Nice. What made you give up the big city to patrol this tiny town?”
Tommy chuckled. “My buddy Jack—also a vet, and my former Philly partner—moved here and joined the Snow Hill PD to be closer to his family. Guess he just made it look like a good place to be, and I’m glad he did since I never would’ve met my wife if he hadn’t.”
Ida’s eyes sparkled as she tilted her head at Tommy. “Oh, I wouldn’t be so sure of that. That’s the thing about great love. When it’s meant to be, it’ll be.”
I wanted to believe that. I really did. But life had a funny way of proving that love wasn’t always enough. People changed. Promises broke. And sometimes, the people you thought you’d spend forever with walked away, leaving you wondering if you’d ever let someone in like that again.