Evening showers shimmied down through the golden trees like the dances that made the founders of After-Hours’ hearts twist and shout.
Yellow and orange maple leaves paved her path like golden cobblestones, though the road was only gravel.
Cami’s tears blended with the rain.
She wouldn’t need to explain why that autumn she accepted a job working nights in a supper club far away from streams of traffic or why she caked on makeup under her eyes.
Her presence was enough.
She braved the rain and arrived early to help Hilmar ‘Hilly’ Myers set up for the Thursday night prime rib ‘all you can eat’ buffet, the first since his beloved Greta passed.
The three years she spent working with trauma victims in a response team helped her task, but if Daddy was right, whatever training she had wouldn’t be enough.
Nobody jumped more than Cami each time the loose shutter slammed shut.
When the screen door creaked, she froze.
That’s all that needs to be known at present.
Cami tapped on her coat pocket and looked down.
Her soggy electricity bills threatened to fall out each time she jumped over puddles from the long walk.
Worse than laziness, an electrical bill in arrears would expose and destroy what little self-confidence she’d managed to build up since moving here.
Her internal sigh made her body shiver.
Who knew a studio apartment in the back of a garage could be such an energy suck? New place for more space, to breathe, that is.
Moss grew on the faded log siding that stood in the middle of an empty gravel parking lot.
The only indication the supper club remained in business was a flickering neon sign.
Several windows on one side of the building were boarded up.
Daddy and Hilmar “Hilly” Myers had been childhood friends.
He always said if “Hilly’s” dream died, the restaurant was sure to follow.
His dream was to marry the love of his life, debutante Miss Greta Klein, who traveled all the way from Georgia to start a life with this restaurateur who promised the moon and delivered with a galaxy of love and attention.
When she passed, her absence was noticed not only in “Hilly’s” heart, but through the disrepair and neglect shown in the only child they ever had – a supper club in lake country.
It hadn’t always been a remote venue, but when the highway department determined a bypass was the best way to reduce traffic fatalities, The After-Hours became an afterthought for customers.
Diners of yesteryear liked the meandering backroads to get there, especially in the fall for peak colors.
Cami stepped inside and reluctantly took off her only barrier from the chilled, damp air – a lined flannel shirt that belonged to Daddy.
The staff tank was an inferior substitute.
She wrapped the black apron ties twice around her narrow waist before securing them neatly and knocking twice on the bar. “Hello? Ready when you are.”
“Hilly” placed the meat thermometer back in its case.
“There. Now it’s go-time.”
He opened the door, looked at the empty parking lot, and tried to smile.
“Welcome. Yeah, tonight’s a bargain. ‘Should be a big tip night for you, but I guess I can’t say for sure.
Back in the day, customers would spend extra time to save pennies. Today, they pay extra to save time.”
The area’s number one destination, After-Hours, nearly died when the detour came and seemed to stay.
A double-roundabout flung diners to newer spots that didn’t have the character or ambiance of “Hilly’s” place, but were greasy, slick, and easy to access.
After the loveliest of life partners, Gretta, died, the restaurant fell deathly ill as well.
“What’s next?” Cami placed her hands on her hips.
There was a back seating area that didn’t have the lights turned on yet.
She wondered if Hilly had forgotten to turn on the lights or if he was as stretched as thin as her own bank account.
“Hilly” took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.
“Welp, you could check the docks. Some guests pull up in their pontoons instead of cars. The Thompsons usually arrive about now.”
He handed her a thermos and a bag of mugs and winked.
“You can find your own way to welcome them, but what my dear Gretta did was first help them dock.
They like that sort of thing.
Then steady the boat while they get out.
She’d offer them something to drink right away.
In the fall, it’d be hot cocoa or hot buttered rum.
You’ve got yourself a thermos of chocolate coffee.
Greeting the guests like this was our signature hospitality.”
He gave her his own jacket.
“Chilly tonight. A good night for a fire, friends, and food. I bet it’ll be busy like the old days. If Greta could see us, she’d be proud.”
Cami nodded, but when he turned away, she took inventory of her surroundings.
She pulled out her phone and checked that it had enough battery to last throughout the night.
“Hilly” called out behind her. “So, be ready. Stay on the main path and you’ll see the lake. It’s easy. I can walk it with my eyes closed and still not get lost, but I’d better stay here for when the crowds come.”
Cami wanted to hold “Hilly’s” hands in hers and tell him that tonight wouldn’t be just like when Greta was alive.
It wouldn’t ever be like that again.
Daddy described Greta as the secret sauce behind their dynamic chemistry.
He said she was a lot like Dolly Madison, who was said to love everyone she met.
They, in turn, naturally loved her back. That was Greta. Irresistible.
I wish I could have met her.
The shutter slammed open in the wind and jolted Cami to start the narrow lake path, thermos in hand.
The rain did not let up, but the prima donna aspen, maples, and birch acted in concert like an umbrella.
So thick was the stand of trees that she didn’t see the shoreline until it was only twenty yards away.
The whole ‘easy’ path, as “Hilly” described it, wasn’t so simple.
Cami needed to walk past several offshoot paths before she reached Birch Lake.
One trail was so narrow it seemed like a deer path, blazing crisscrossed routes through underbrush and ridge alike.
It had a wooden sign posted that read, ‘Pioneer Cemetery.’
It belonged to “Hilly,” and according to Daddy, their own family wasn’t allowed to find eternal rest within the iron gates because their family hadn’t started this settlement.
Cami found the dock and, true to “Hilly’s” prediction, many boaters arrived at the After-Hours docks.
She didn’t expect anyone to show up, and was taken aback when she had to think of a greeting.
She ended up copying Greta’s style of welcoming guests with southern hospitality second to none.
Patrons disappeared into the trees, laughing and reminiscing about how much fun they’d had at After-Hours.
They said they missed Greta, but were ready to resume the revelry where they left off.
“Greta would’ve wanted it this way,” they said.
Cami turned on the string of Edison lights around the shoreline and pathway back to the restaurant and started back.
“Hilly” knew a thing or two about marketing without Greta’s guidance because at sundown, he’d placed outdoor speakers along the path with the party music the gang loved the best.
When she arrived, she saw there were five other staff members working the bustling tables.
In the bar area, there were four televisions broadcasting sports games, and a free popcorn and nacho appetizer station.
The din made it difficult for Cami to hear individual conversations perfectly, but all seemed to be enjoying themselves.
Toasts in Greta’s honor clinked while people tried to talk over one another.
Cami saw “Hilly” stopping to greet each of the diners.
Many of them he knew by name.
She thought this was an ideal time to accomplish what she really came back to do.
Yes, the money she’d earn from waitressing and helping an old family friend would take care of outstanding debts, but the paycheck from the agency would help even more.
She didn’t know “Hilly” like her Daddy, but the more she met with him through online and phone calls, she couldn’t help but feel sorry for him.
Daddy was right.
He was a gentle, kind soul who was only misguided.
“Excuse me, miss?” a man called out to her from the corner booth.
“Welcome to After-Hours. How may I help you?” Cami said.
She listened to his requests and immediately addressed each one of them.
He offered her a tip, and she declined, which surprised her.
The work connecting with this community was so enjoyable that she’d almost forgotten why she was there.
It would never be about the pay.
“Thank you,” they said, praising “Hilly’s” restaurant for continuing in Greta’s tradition.
Cami left the booth and went into the kitchen.
She found three cooks furiously working and calling out orders.
A few waitresses were standing around waiting for their orders to be up.
The aromas of steaks grilling, prime rib, and veggie pizzas in a wood-fired oven were so delicious that they were a distraction to completing her assignment.
It’s so busy, “Hilly” won’t miss me.
Cami searched the cellar, closets, and the backyard garage.
She snooped around in a porch area that had been converted into cold storage.
Periodically she came back into the main dining areas and made a point to connect with “Hilly” so he wouldn’t suspect anything.
The key now is to get everything done before the crowds die down. Wrong choice of words.
“Hilly” and Greta operated their business on the main floor, but they lived on the second level.
A modest apartment was how Daddy described it.
Cami slipped back outside to find a second story deck presumably high enough to see some of Birch Lake.
She could tell the sliding glass door was partially open.
Underneath the deck was the back kitchen door, so propping up a ladder there would be difficult to explain should someone leave through the kitchen door.
Cami circled After-Hours’ perimeter looking for another way in.
In the peak of the log structure was a boat house that was directly above an open window.
She briefly thought she might be able to tie a weight on the end of a waterski rope and use it to pull herself up to the window.
Nope. A cat-burglar I’m not.
A shutter slammed open again.
Cami jumped and headed back inside to collect her thoughts.
Straightforward is the only way forward. I’ll ask.
“Hilly” was at the front door, thanking guests for helping make the evening memorable.
Cami overheard him say, “I haven’t felt so alive since before sweet Greta left us too soon.”
Cami groaned before approaching him.
“There you are. “Hilly?” I was wondering if you could give me a tour of your home upstairs? Daddy said you and Greta fixed it up real cute.”
“Hilly” scanned the restaurant he and Greta built.
“You’ve been such a dear. I hate to say no, but I don’t feel comfortable bringing you there. Say, how is your Daddy? Is he still working for the department?”
“He’s semi-retired.” Cami nodded. “He gets called in on sensitive assignments. “Hilly?” I’d really appreciate a tour of your special home you made with Greta.”
“Always will be. It’s our place.” He looked at her. “That’s a curious request. Why do you ask?”
Cami held her breath a moment before answering.
She considered lying to him.
He was the type to take everyone’s story at face value.
She was like that, too.
Usually, anyway.
Not tonight.
She didn’t like keeping the real reason she was at After-Hours.
Plus, she wasn’t a good liar.
“Hilly” studied her, then asked, “Why are you really here?”
Cami inhaled sharply.
How could he tell?
Cami didn’t deliberate.
He asked a direct question, and there was only one honorable response – a direct response.
She reached out and held both of his hands in hers, something she’d been wanting to do all night.
She pulled him gently outside and away from those clearing up after the last guests left.
“Hilly” frowned. “Hey, everyone, you can take off early. Give yourselves two extra hours on the clock. I can’t thank each of you enough. I’ll post the new hours tomorrow.”
Cami wanted to preserve his dignity and didn’t interrupt.
Her Daddy emphasized this facet of her assignment more than any other detail.
“He’s a brave, compassionate man I’d trust with my life. Cami dear, he’s walking wounded.”
She waited until he waved goodbye to everyone.
“Hilly” brought her back inside. “It’s too cold outside for this kind of conversation. Care for some tea?”
“Only if you’ll have some, too.”
Cami purposely sat down next to the door leading to their upstairs living quarters.
“I’ve really liked working for you tonight.”
“Hilly” handed her a steaming cup of spicy tea. “You’re good. Please consider working here full-time. You’re like your Daddy. I can tell. Tell me, why couldn’t he come? I invited both of you.”
Cami winced. “He’s working on a special case in the cities. I’m supposed to give you his regards.”
“Hilly” sipped his tea. “Why are you really here? Your Daddy said you have a great job not far from where the rest of your family lives and works. You don’t need the extra money.”
“Actually, I have bills and am paying off debt as aggressively as I can.” Cami looked “Hilly” squarely in the eyes. “I appreciated the job you gave me tonight.” She sighed. “That’s why I feel bad about –” She paused.
“Dear?” said “Hilly,” “What?”
Cami looked down.
A deluge of emotional conflict surrounded her best intentions.
She couldn’t put her finger exactly on why her mission felt off, but her fear of not being able to protect “Hilly” was part of it.
“What?” “Hilly’s” voice was quietly forceful.
His voice reminded Cami of some of the smartest, most intelligent warriors she had met at the academy.
They were never showy about flexing their superior strength.
Cami met his steady gaze. “Please don’t ask me directly anything more than what I’m about to tell you.”
“Okay. Promise.”
“Hilly” slowly sipped his tea waiting for her to volunteer more information.
“The case Daddy’s assisting in is about you.”
Cami bit her lip. She couldn’t be sure, but it seemed like “Hilly” was holding his breath.
“And?” He looked into his cup.
“You see,” Cami started, “there’s been a missing-persons report filed.”
“Oh, yeah?” “Hilly” leaned back.
“Yeah, and Daddy thought you might be able to help me look someplace for this person.”
Cami watched for his response.
Her training at the academy was comprehensive.
“You see, this prominent person was last seen at a cemetery.”
“Lots of people are seen there – or last seen there. They say it’s the quietest neighborhood in any city,” said “Hilly.”
“Well, anyway, Daddy thinks if this missing person shows up in another, but also respectable cemetery, charges will be quietly dropped.”
Cami wrote Greta’s name on a napkin. “Right. No one will ever know. There will be no charges brought up.”
“Since when is it against the law for married people to live together?” “Hilly” crumpled Cami’s napkin.
“If one of them is dead,” Cami replied, “it’s always been against the law.”
“Hilly” stood at attention. “I think I’m tired. I’m going to bed now. Thank you for seeing yourself out. I appreciated your help tonight, but won’t be needing your services any longer.” He turned to go upstairs.
Cami beat him to the upstairs door. “Stop. Please, wait. I can still help you.”
“Hilly” looked at her with tears rimming his brown eyes. “How?”
“Your family cemetery is located on the path to Birch Lake, right?” Cami hated to say more than what was necessary.
“Hilly” nodded.
“What if your beloved Greta were buried there instead of Fort Andrew? Wouldn’t you like that? You could visit her every day.”
Cami could tell he was considering her idea.
Their idea, as Daddy helped, and they both created this caveat for a longtime friend.
“You could have a bench placed there or plant a garden. Didn’t Greta like star gazer lilies?”
“Yes.” “Hilly’s” words choked in his throat.
“You can’t plant a garden for her upstairs, can you?” Cami’s voice softened throughout her delicate conversation.
“No.” “Hilly’s” sobs were wild, guttural.
Cami reached for his hands. “Greta will love her new place. She’d never want you to get in trouble over her. She loved you as much as you loved her. That’s what Daddy told me.”
“Hilly” slumped in his chair.
“I think it might be a good plan if I go ahead of you to the pioneer cemetery and get things ready for Greta.” Cami shared. “Daddy still thinks you’re one of the finest people he’s ever known. He discretely had a special coffin delivered to your family plot. She’s already been embalmed, right? Didn’t she look beautiful when you saw her at her first funeral?”
“She’s always been the prettiest girl anywhere she goes. It’s because of her good heart.” “Hilly” held his head in his hands.
“Daddy said you have a tender, good heart, too.” Cami patted him on his shoulder. “If you want to go upstairs and get Greta ready, I’ll get everything else set. I’ll make sure the string lights are on. How did you get Greta upstairs here?”
“Hilly” pointed to a folded wheelchair by the door. “Pulley system and that.”
“Do you need help?” she asked.
“I want to do it by myself.” “Hilly” wrung his hands and started crying again.
“Cami?” “Hilly” reached behind the bar and handed her a CD playlist. “Can you play this while we walk back?”
Cami looked at the playlist and solemnly nodded. “It would be my honor.”
Cami didn’t disclose to “Hilly” that there would be no authorities exhuming Greta.
She deserved her peace.
Once was enough.
When Cami got back to the restaurant, she recognized the car in the parking lot and ran inside. “Daddy!” She clung to his neck, pent up tears ran down her face for the second time that day. “They’re at the cemetery now.”
“A long day for you,” Officer Ty Jenkins said. He handed her his keys. “I’ve got it from here. “Hilly” will drive me back to your place tomorrow after we’ve wrapped up the case.”
“Official business?” Cami sat down from emotional exhaustion.
“Right,” Ty pulled up a chair next to her. “I’ll check on both of them, “Hilly” and Greta, tonight and keep my good buddy safe throughout the night. When I fill out my report, it’s gonna say “Hilly” was fulfilling his wife’s last wishes, that her remains be laid to rest in her family heritage cemetery. Incidentally, phrased like that, his actions are perfectly legal. He might have to say he was sorry for doing it the way he did, but was operating with the knowledge he had at the time.”
“Why didn’t he say something the first time she was buried?” Cami tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
“Maybe he did and no one listened to him? I’ll get the full story tonight and tomorrow and none of this will be published or available to the public.” He folded his arms.
“So, “Hilly” can keep the After-Hours open?” Cami felt relieved and her face showed it.
“As long as he’d like,” Ty confirmed. “And he’s right. Greta would want to be near After-Hours and her sweetheart.”
There is a higher level of justice, centered around respect and dignity.
