Midnight at the Blackbird Café

Illustrations to accompany AARP’s serialized release of the novel

"Midnight at the Blackbird Café" by Heather Webber.

About the Book:

Nestled in the mountain shadows of Alabama lies the little town of Wicklow. It is here that Anna Kate has returned to bury her beloved Granny Zee, owner of the Blackbird Café.
It was supposed to be a quick trip to close the café and settle her grandmother’s estate, but despite her best intentions to avoid forming ties or even getting to know her father’s side of the family, Anna Kate finds herself inexplicably drawn to the quirky Southern town her mother ran away from so many years ago, and the mysterious blackbird pie everybody can’t stop talking about. As the truth about her past slowly becomes clear, Anna Kate will need to decide if this lone blackbird will finally be able to take her broken wings and fly.

Client: AARP

AD: Josef Edmonds

Midnight at the Blackbird Café

I headed back to the deck, but stopped first to apologize to the undeserving
zucchini for my mean look earlier.

It was then that I noticed a dark gray cat with light eyes watching me intently

from its seat on a white stone bench in the center of the garden.

My nerves were running wild as I turned around to say
goodbye to Summer and to give her the piece of pie.

But she was already gone.

About ten feet from me, the cat stopped.

Sat. Looked over his shoulder. He took another few steps. Sat. Glanced back.

“Reow.”

It could have been my imagination, or perhaps heat exhaustion setting in,

but I could have sworn there was a hint of impatience in the cat’s voice.

My eyes stung with frustrated tears as I watched the birds take flight, soaring,

then dipping low to return the way they’d come. The birders applauded.

She glanced at the newspaper article she’d been reading. “I feel like a kid who got caught with her hand in the cookie jar.” I glanced at the headline that had been zoomed in on.

Car crash kills local Wicklow standout

The following morning, I crouched in the garden, a basket at my feet as I filled it with the

day’s bounty. “I see you’ve forgiven me,” I said to the zucchini plant closest to the deck steps.

I tugged a small zucchini from its stem, its beautiful green skin seemingly more vibrant

in the hazy morning light than it would be in full sunshine.

The small brown bird that I’d been seeing a lot lately sat on the fence railing next to my car, not looking the least bit disturbed by my presence as it used its beak to clean under its crooked wing.

Anna Kate clutched a foil-wrapped platter with both hands.

“Having my head examined might not be a bad idea. I’m not sure what I’m doing.”

Between the humidity and the exertion, I was out of breath by the time I reached

the tree and stumbled to a full stop when I came upon Aubin Pavegeau.

He was sitting in front of a headstone next to the tree.

Pulling out my keys, I unlocked the door, then pushed it open. Chilly air washed

over me as I set the package on the kitchen counter, tore the paper, and gasped.

It was the framed photo of the doe and waterfall.

A note slipped out onto the floor.

We’d been here a few hours now, and we were waiting on Daddy to be discharged against medical advice. He insisted there was nothing the hospital could do for him that couldn’t be done at home, and there was nothing anyone could do or say to talk him out of it.