Page 48 of The Mountain Echoes
“I wouldn’t say no to a cup of coffee.” I sprawl on the couch, getting comfortable. I’m used to being here with Celine and Hudson, or at their place in Aspen, where Celine entertains a lot. Her parties are fun. Good food, wine, and company. She’s an excellent hostess.
Celine calls out to Vera, who comes into the living room after a moment. “Yes?” She’s not exactly impatient, but there’s a flash in her eyes.
“Can you set up the coffee service right away? Mav would like a cup.”
Vera looks at me. “Black, no cream, no sugar?”
“Yeah. Thanks, Vera.”
She only nods in response and walks away.
“Hudson, darlin’, can you get me a glass of champagne?” Celine orders as she strokes her neck, diamond necklace and all, with a manicured hand. “I’m parched.”
Like a dog on command, Hudson brings her a glass of sparkling wine. She thanks him sweetly.
He gives me a measured look. “You staying for the will reading?”
“I asked him to,” Celine interjects with a pout. “You knowshe’sgoing to cause some kind of drama.”
Her husband snorts.
“What?” Celine narrows her eyes.
Hudson raises a hand, palm out. “Nothing.” Then he groans. “I need to take a piss. I’ll be back.”
Celine screws up her nose. She waits until he’s out of earshot to look at me with defeat in her eyes. “He’s so…uncouth. He used to not be like this. I…I’ve decided to divorce him.”
I raise a brow.
“It’s just come to an end. It’s just too much and….”
I shrug in response.
I thought it came to an end years ago, but I don’t pass judgment. People should do what they’re comfortable with.
“It’s going to be a mess,” she continues. She moves closer to me and rests her head on my shoulder. “We had a prenup. Papa insisted. Hudson gets nothing…so, you know, he’s not going to let gothateasily.”
I shift so she has to raise her head. I don’t mind a woman who’s touchy-feely, but not a woman who’s married to another man. “You got a lawyer?”
She nods. “Rony Kramer.”
I know Rony. He’s a sought-after divorce lawyer in Aspen, handles all the celebrity breakups.
“Does Hudson know it’s comin’?” I feel sorry for the man, despite how I feel about him. He’s broken, wasted. There seems to be something missing inside him, a hollowness he can’t fill.
She rolls her eyes. “If he doesn’t, it’s because he’s too drunk. He’s given up and…I don’t have the energy to work on it. Papa’s death has been”—she sniffles—“so hard…and a wakeup call to live my best life before it’s gone.”
She leans into me again, and this time I let her ‘cause she’s crying, and it would be rude to push her away.
“I spoke to Aria this morning. She’s plannin’ on stayin’ here, Mav. I can’t believe it.”
She’s stayin’? For how long? Why?
“I think she wants Hudson,” she adds, her voice quieter now.
That pulls a dry laugh out of me. “I highly doubt it.”
I can’t imagine any universe in which the stoic and somber Aria would be interested in a yahoo like Hudson.
