Chapter 5
Josie stood in front of the casket draped in pink roses and white carnations, her grandmother’s favorites. They looked so traditional, yet so fitting. The shade of the tent over her head shielded her eyes from the bright southern sun as she fought back tears. This was real. Adeline Campbell was gone, and Josie had never felt more alone in her life. Even as she held her daughter’s hand, she felt like a little child, lost in a grocery store.
“Adeline Campbell was a fine woman, the type that jumped in to help everyone, even those who didn’t deserve it. She was forgiving, loving, and warm. These characteristics are rarely found in our modern, rushed world...” The pastor’s words were so true, but Josie wished he wasn’t so long-winded. Wearing a pair of high heels on the soft cemetery grounds was causing her calves to ache. Why couldn’t they sit down and listen to this?
Why she’d chosen heels instead of flats was beyond her. She was used to wearing business attire, but a part of her had forgotten just how soft the Lowcountry ground could be in some areas. The cemetery sat in a shady part of the town, so there was a good possibility that she’d just slowly slide into the earth in a few minutes.
“You may be seated,” he finally said, and Josie stifled an audible groan. She sat and felt the blood leave her feet and return to other parts of her body.
When the service was finally over, dozens of mourners walked in front of her and Kendra to pay their respects. Each of them spoke something over Adeline’s casket, some of which Josie could hear.
“I’ll miss you.”
“You were a wonderful woman.”
“I wish I knew how to make your cornbread.”
As she listened to them, she got a knot in her stomach thinking about all the things she wished she’d said while her nana could’ve heard her. Of course, now Nana would say, “I can hear you, Bug. Heaven is merely like a sheet between us, soft and thin. I’m here.”
“Josie, I’m so sorry for your loss,” a woman said, standing in front of her as she sat there, desperately trying to summon her grandmother’s voice in her head.
“Thank you.”
She had no idea who many of these people were, even though she’d grown up around most of them. As a kid and then a teenager, she didn’t exactly take the time to learn the names of her grandmother’s friends. That would have been very uncool of her. But this woman seemed familiar.
“You don’t remember me, do you?” The woman smiled like she was in on an inside joke.
“I’m sorry, I don’t. Are you one of Nana’s friends?”
“I’m Deb Hancock, your seventh-grade teacher.”
Josie’s mouth fell open. “Mrs. Hancock? Wow, it’s been a long time.”
She chuckled. “Plus, I’ve gained about fifty pounds and a head full of gray hair since you saw me last.”
“You look great,” Josie said, smiling, feeling like that was the right thing to say.
“Well, thank you. Is this your daughter?”
“Yes, this is Kendra.”
“Nice to meet you, Kendra,” she said, sticking out her hand.
“Nice to meet you too.”
“You know, your mother gave all of us teachers a run for our money.”
“I’ve heard some stories,” Kendra said, laughing.
“Is she more well-behaved now?” Mrs. Hancock asked.
Kendra looked at Josie. “She’s actually pretty boring.”
That made Josie laugh and feel better about herself at the same time. Boring was not a word her childhood friends would’ve called her. They would have used words like angry, wild, and dysfunctional back then. Maybe she had improved and matured over the years. Of course, her most recent boss wouldn’t agree with any of that.
Joe Strand, dressed in his Sunday best, walked up beside Mrs. Hancock. “Excuse me. Josie, can I have a word?”
“Sure,” she said, standing up. “It was nice to see you again, Mrs. Hancock.”
“Same to you, Josie. I do hope to see more of you around here.” She wandered off to talk to someone else as Joe remained.
“Sorry to interrupt your conversation.”
“No problem. I don’t feel much like talking anyway.”
“I hope you’re coming to the luncheon?”
She sighed. “Joe, I really don’t feel like it.”
“Josie, I think it’s important that you meet your grandmother’s friends and share some stories and laughs. Plus, many of these folks will be customers at the restaurant.”
“I never said I was staying to run the restaurant.”
Kendra groaned. “I’m trying to talk her into it.”
Joe winked at her. “Glad I have an ally in this. Look, I came over because I wanted to see if you’d like to visit the restaurant after the luncheon.”
Her guts twisted at the thought. Campbell’s Café haunted her, but she needed to go, and she knew that.
“Fine. I’ll come to the luncheon for a little while, and then we can go to the restaurant.”
He touched her upper arm. “I know this is exhausting, Josie. Please say you’ll stay at the house tonight. I think it’ll do you good.”
“We have a hotel room.”
“But—”
“Joe, please. I can only take so many walks down memory lane on this trip.”
He nodded. “I understand. I’ll see you at the luncheon.”
“Mom, we have to go to the house too. I don’t understand why you don’t want to go.”
“I can’t explain it, Kendra. I just know I don’t feel ready to go there.” Maybe it was the memories. Maybe it was the fact that Nana was gone, and she was afraid the house would feel empty. Or maybe it was because going to that house would reel her in and keep her in Happy Harbor.
* * *
Ethel Boniface’s house smelled like every Sunday dinner, family reunion, and church potluck Josie had ever been to. The aroma of freshly baked buttermilk biscuits, peach cobbler, and strong coffee assaulted her senses all at once as she walked inside.
It was a beautiful home with a long front porch, large columns, and wide stairs leading to the front door. Still, it was not nearly as majestic as Adeline Campbell’s home. That place was something to behold, like a miniature Tara from Gone with the Wind. People came from miles around just to look at the outside. Josie could vividly remember tourists driving through their little town on the way to Myrtle Beach or Pawleys Island, stopping in Happy Harbor to walk the historical neighborhood. They would stand in the street and take photos of the house, and Nana would often walk to the gate and offer them cookies. Josie smiled at the memory.
“What are you grinning about?” Kendra asked, staring at her as they stood in the large foyer of Ethel’s home. Nothing like a smart-aleck teenager to break a person out of their happy daydream.
“Just enjoying the smells,” Josie replied before walking toward the living room. There were at least twenty-five people roaming the house, talking in little groups and eating from trays of food scattered around on tables. She was starving and couldn’t wait to get her hands on something to eat, preferably whatever that meat smell was.
“Josie Campbell?”
She looked up to see a tall, lanky man in front of her. He was about her age with bright-orange hair, a scruffy beard, and a gold cross necklace hanging from his neck.
“Clay Dallas? Is that you under all that facial hair?”
He laughed. “Yes, ma’am. That’s me. Good to see you, but so sorry to hear about your grandma. She was a wonderful lady.”
Clay and Josie had gone to high school together after his family moved there from Charleston in his sophomore year. He’d been one of her favorite people to get into trouble with, like the time they pulled the fire alarm or the time they released Mr. Pope’s mean wild geese onto the football field. Watching one of them chase Tiffany Chambers, the head cheerleader and the worst person Josie’d ever known, was hysterically funny. She and Clay found themselves sitting in the principal’s office—and the local police station—more times than she could count.
“Thank you. How are you doing these days? Still living in Happy Harbor?”
He laughed. “No, not anymore. I’m married with three little ones now.” He held up his phone and showed a picture of a beautiful blond woman and three little kids in front of a fireplace decorated for Christmas. “Stairsteps, ages ten, eight, and six.”
“Clay Dallas got married? Wow! I never figured you to be the marrying type.”
He shrugged his shoulders. “When it’s the right person, you just know, I suppose. Besides, we all have to grow up sometime, right?”
She chuckled. “I guess so. Oh, this is my daughter, Kendra.”
He shook Kendra’s hand. “Nice to meet you. You look so much like your momma did at your age.”
“She’s much prettier,” Josie said, putting her arm around her daughter. Kendra looked at her like she was crazy but, thankfully, didn’t say anything about the affection.
“Well, I’d better go. I need to get back home before dark. We live over near Mount Pleasant, and I have work in the morning.”
“Thank you for coming, Clay. It means a lot.”
“You’re welcome, Josie. And for what it’s worth, I hope you stay and run Miss Adeline’s restaurant. She sure would’ve loved that.”
Her heart hurt when he said it because she knew that was an accurate statement. There was nothing her nana would’ve loved more than to know Josie was back home in Happy Harbor, surrounded by good people and keeping the memories of the house and restaurant alive.
“Can we get something to eat now?” Kendra asked, her voice a bit like a whiny eight-year-old.
“Yes. Come on.”
They walked over to the biggest table and took plates, piling them high with food. Josie was a bit afraid everybody would think she was some kind of glutton, but she didn’t care that much. She was hungry. The hotel food was subpar and often gross, and the best place to eat in town was Campbell’s. Since she’d been avoiding it, they hadn’t had any good Southern food yet. Now was their moment.
“Oh my gosh. What is this? It’s so good!” Kendra said, pointing at something on her plate.
“That’s cheese grits with real bacon.”
“I want to eat this every day for the rest of my life. Sure beats the disgusting pizza at my school cafeteria. I still don’t think they use real pepperoni.”
Josie elbowed her and laughed. “Don’t be silly.”
“These rolls are amazing.”
“Did you get some of the chicken casserole with the flaky butter-cracker crust?”
“What? No. Where was that?”
“Over on the table beside the piano.”
Kendra got up and wandered across the room, plate in hand. This was the first time in a long time that they were having fun together. The fact that it was at her grandmother’s funeral luncheon was weird, but these days she’d take whatever happiness and peace she could get. Across the room, Josie saw Kendra get approached by an older woman and look at Josie for help. She just smiled and continued eating.
“Hey, Josie. So good to see you. Glad you could make it to the luncheon.” She recognized Mrs. Boniface from the funeral. Thankfully, Joe had pointed her out. She hadn’t met her before, and she vaguely remembered her grandmother talking about a friend who had moved to town a few years back.
“Thank you for hosting it, Mrs. Boniface. You have a lovely home, and the food is delicious. Nana would’ve loved this.”
She smiled. “Please call me Ethel. And yes, she would love it, but then again, she basically planned it.”
Josie chuckled. That was just like her nana to plan her own funeral and even the luncheon afterward. She liked for things to be done a certain way, but she also didn’t want to put anyone else out.
“How long were you two friends?”
She sat down beside Josie, her long floral dress dragging on the ground. “Oh dear, I suppose it was about ten years. Time sure flies. Walter, my late husband, and I moved here to retire. This house was his great-uncle’s, and it was passed down to him. I wasn’t so sure about living in such a small town, but when I met Adeline, I realized she was the sister I never had. She made me feel welcome the moment I met her.” Josie watched Ethel’s face as tears welled in her eyes and cascaded over her ample cheeks.
“She was one of a kind.”
“She surely was. And how she loved you, Josie. She talked about you all the time. She was so proud of you.”
“She was?”
“Very proud. She told me a lot about your upbringing and the challenges that came along with it. Oh, she would just beam when she told people how smart you are. She’d tell us you were going to be head of a company one day.”
Josie chuckled. “Probably not anytime soon. I just got fired. They said I’m difficult to work with.” She had no idea why she was telling this virtual stranger her business, but something felt right about it. Of course, that was how the South worked. Everybody knew everybody else’s business, so it felt comfortable to tell someone. Like a redneck confessional.
“Oh, darlin’, that wasn’t an accident, you know.”
“What?”
“I believe everything happens for a reason, and your grandma wanted you to take over her restaurant more than anything. She didn’t trust another living soul to care for her business and her home. I can’t tell you how many times she told me she worried you’d never come back to Happy Harbor, even after she died. She said she didn’t believe you’d ever be truly happy until you came home.”
Josie sighed. “I just don’t know if I can.”
“What better time to try? You don’t have a new job, right?”
“No, not yet.”
“Maybe it’s time to see what’s lurking around that scary corner. I’ve always told my kids that monsters hide in the dark, but joy stands right out in the light. Chase the light, Josie. It’s what my dear Adeline wanted for you. Those monsters are no match for the light that’s waiting for you. The restaurant was her last gift to you. Take it and make it yours.”
Josie felt like bursting into tears. It was like hearing her grandmother’s voice coming through Ethel. She almost wanted to fall into her arms and cry, but she refrained.
“I have a lot to think about.”
“I suppose that’s true, but I’ll leave you with this one thought before I go make a new pot of coffee: sometimes our memories of bad times take up so much space that we don’t allow for better memories to replace them. Maybe the way you remember this place is tainted by those bad times so much that you can’t see the possibilities of what Happy Harbor could be for you.” She stood up with a grunt and smiled. “The old hip is acting up today. I’d better go make that coffee now.”
Josie stood up. “Can I help you?”
Ethel smiled. “I’d love that.”
* * *
Josie walked down the Riverwalk, her heels banging against the old wood as she went. Kendra was up ahead, peeking over the edge of the railings, looking at the variety of boats docked there. Happy Harbor sat at the convergence of the Sampit River and Winyah Bay. The Riverwalk sat behind the shops on Main Street and was only about three blocks long and ten feet wide. Tourists loved the area, but it was also a working harbor, mostly for fishing boats.
Her grandmother had taken over the family restaurant when Josie’s grandfather passed, serving the community and visiting fishermen for decades. It stood like a light in the storm, ready for anyone who washed up to have a great meal and good company. Adeline had taken her role in Happy Harbor seriously, and one of the primary jobs she took on was welcoming newcomers and taking care of her regulars who supported the restaurant over the years. Could Josie do that? Her nana was special, and Josie didn’t think she’d gotten those hospitable genes.
“Glad you came,” Joe said. He was standing in front of the restaurant, which stood out among the other riverfront buildings. Most of them were distressed or brick, but Adeline had painted her brick a bright Scottish green to stand out. It definitely worked. She’d won Happy Harbor’s top restaurant honor every year since Josie could remember.
“I got bullied by everyone,” she said, laughing. She looked up at the towering two-story building, which she hadn’t seen in at least ten years. Adeline had used the upper story for storage, and Josie wasn’t sure the attached upper terrace was in good enough repair to even stand on.
Memories flowed back to her as she looked around: Old Mr. Piper cleaning fish on the dock next to his rickety boat. Nana standing in front of the restaurant waving as the fishermen came back in the afternoons, her other hand holding a large platter of fried catfish and hush puppies. Sitting on that wrought iron bench in front of the restaurant for hours the day her mother promised to take her to the amusement park for her twelfth birthday. Her grandmother finally had to force her to come inside and eat dinner. Turned out her mother was drunk and had gotten carted off to jail to sleep it off.
She looked away, only to see the dock where her mother drank too many beers with a group of visiting fishermen and managed to fall into the water. Adeline and two other men had jumped in to save her as Josie watched in horror. Memories like that made up most of the woven tapestry of her youth.
Diane tried to be a mother off and on, but most of the time, she was missing in action, choosing to booze it up with friends rather than change diapers or attend PTA meetings. Diane’s choice of men was always questionable too. The worst she’d brought into Josie’s life was a man named Dan who was abusive to her mother and one of the worst people Josie had ever known. She still didn’t like to think about him.
Josie hadn’t spoken to Diane in ten years, tired of giving her second chance after second chance. Josie pretended she didn’t exist, and for all she knew, she didn’t. Adeline had known not to speak of Diane in recent years.
Nevertheless, Josie had almost followed in her mother’s footsteps. Thankfully, she’d never developed an addiction like Diane did, and she often wondered why. Maybe it was because she rarely drank, and when she did, she only had a glass of wine or two. She’d always stopped herself, unwilling to go down that path.
“Ready to go inside?” Joe asked, interrupting her thoughts. “The place is shut down for a couple of days in honor of Adeline, but it’ll reopen soon. Anyway, nobody is here. I thought that’d be easier for you?”
“Yes. Thanks.”
The three of them walked across the small bridge and onto the creaky front porch. Joe unlocked the door and the group stepped inside. The first thing she noticed was the smell—a mixture of cornbread, butter, and fish. It sounded gross, but it smelled like home more than she’d imagined it would.
Everything looked much the same. The walls were covered with Scottish memorabilia and old family pictures. The Scottish flag hung above the cash register, which hadn’t been upgraded to anything even remotely modern. Adeline had believed that people should pay cash, and their change should be counted out in their hands. Credit and debit cards weren’t accepted there, but she’d take a personal check in a pinch.
Josie stood in the middle of the room, her eyes bleary from the tears now streaking down her cheeks. Adeline Campbell had taken so much pride in the restaurant she’d built with her late husband. Over fifty years of hard work cooking, cleaning, and taking care of customers was now over. The place was quiet. Deserted. Sad.
“You okay?” Joe asked tentatively.
Josie couldn’t believe her grandmother was gone. The funeral had been uplifting, as Adeline requested, but now Josie stood there alone and grieving.
“No. None of this is okay.”
“She was a special woman, that Adeline.”
Specialdidn’t even begin to cover it. Her grandmother had been a saint.
“She was very special. I can feel her here, Joe. This restaurant is like a shrine to her.” Josie walked over to the cash register and pressed one of the keys. The numbers had long since worn away, but Adeline had known where each one was. In her older years, diabetes and partial blindness hadn’t taken away her ability or her desire to work. Even in her last days, she’d stood behind that counter taking orders and welcoming people to Campbell’s, according to Ethel.
Josie hadn’t expected to feel such a flood of good emotions when she walked into the space. She’d feared feeling sad or even angry about her mother. Instead, she felt peace. She felt comfort. She felt Nana. Her spirit hung in the air like a thick fog, and Josie never wanted to leave. She felt like closing her eyes and hugging herself, but she didn’t want Joe to think she’d lost her mind.
“Can I walk down the Riverwalk a bit?” Kendra asked.
Josie nodded. “Just don’t make me come looking for you.”
As her daughter left, Josie wandered around the restaurant, touching the black-and-white checkered plastic tablecloths, the pictures on the wall, and the stair rail leading to the storage area upstairs. Maybe she could turn that area into another dining room, she thought before remembering she hadn’t agreed to stay. Happy Harbor—or maybe Adeline Campbell—was trying to reel her in already.
“Well, what do you think?” Joe finally asked when it was apparent that Josie wasn’t going to leave the restaurant on her own.
“I think I need to go to the house.” That statement surprised even her. All she knew was that she needed her grandmother, and maybe she’d feel her more at her home.