Chapter 15
After a long meeting with Joe Strand, Josie and Diane were frustrated. Josie had hoped that they could sue Dan for some kind of elder abuse or even extortion, but Joe said there were problems with doing that. First, nobody knew where he was. Finding him could take a long time—certainly more than two weeks.
Second, the only proof they had was Ethel’s word. No text messages, no paper trail. It would be an uphill battle no matter what.
“Well, that was a big fat fail,” Josie said as they walked out of Joe’s office. “What are we going to do?”
“We just have to think. How can we raise money quickly?”
“I guess I could take out a mortgage on the house.”
“You can’t do that. It’s your security.”
“I have to do something.”
“Isn’t the historical society tour starting soon?”
“In two days,” Josie said, rolling her eyes.
“Why don’t we piggyback off that and put some donation containers around the house?”
“We can do that, but I don’t think it’ll be nearly enough.”
They continued walking down the sidewalk toward the restaurant. The lunch rush would start soon, and it would be all hands on deck.
“Maybe we can have some kind of event,” Diane suggested.
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. I’m just running through ideas here.”
Josie chuckled. “Remember when I had to sell cookies door-to-door that time?”
“You mean the one year you were a Girl Scout?”
“Yeah. I really wasn’t cut out for making friends with other girls. They annoyed me, and those outfits? Yuck. Anyway, you were sober for a few weeks when I was selling cookies, and we went door-to-door together. Do you remember that?”
Diane smiled. “I do. It’s one of my fondest memories.”
“We sold a lot of cookies.”
“I guess we made a good team.”
“Of course, you relapsed before we could finish our selling spree, and I found you in your car eating the boxes we had presold. Nana had to apologize to those people and offer to bake them cakes if they didn’t ask for their money back.”
Diane sighed. “I’m sorry, Josie.”
She shrugged her shoulders. “I still won the grand prize of an insulated mug with a teddy bear on it.”
“Wow, big prize,” Diane said, laughing.
“Our troop leader was a witch.”
“Good morning, ladies,” Walker said, meeting them at the corner of the building.
“What do you have all over you?” Josie asked, looking at the black spatters all over his shirt and shorts.
“Grease? Paint? I don’t even know anymore.”
She laughed. “Maybe you can start a new fashion trend.”
“Is dirty coming back in fashion?”
“Let’s hope so, for your sake.”
“How are the repairs coming along?” Diane asked.
“Faster than I thought. I may be able to get you back in there within the week.”
“Really? That’s great.”
“Actually, my mother will live with us from now on.”
Diane turned and looked at her with wide eyes. “What?”
“Sorry, but that apartment can bring a bigger income than you can pay. I could even rent it to a business, like an accountant or something.”
“So, I live with you now?”
Josie nodded. “Yep. Like it or lump it, as Nana used to say.”
Diane smiled. “I like it.”
“Great. I’ll get it all fixed up, and you can decide what to do with it,” Walker said. “Listen, I heard what happened with your grandmother and the loan. I’m so sorry.”
“Thanks. We’re trying to figure out if there’s a way to save the restaurant. I mean, twenty thousand dollars is a lot of money. There’s barely enough to keep the place running, much less cover those back payments.”
“I’ve been thinking. What if we do a big benefit?” Walker said. “The town doesn’t want you to lose this place. We could have something on Main Street and try to get people from the next town over to come too.”
“Can we put something like that together quickly?” Josie asked. In her experience, big events took a while to coordinate.
“This town can do it. Everyone will help, I bet.”
For a moment, Josie thought about how this would’ve gone in Atlanta. Would people have banded together when she needed them? She didn’t even have any people. She had one friend.
She couldn’t imagine that people would come to her aid here either, especially those who were strangers to her. Why would people go out of their way to help? Would she do the same for somebody else?
It really made her have deeper thoughts than she wanted to think that early in the morning.
“I guess we could try to put something together, but I wouldn’t even know where to begin,” Josie admitted.
“Leave that to me. I know a lot of people in town, and I think I can get it together.”
“I’d be glad to help too. Especially since this appears to be partly my fault,” Diane said.
“How is it your fault?” Josie asked.
“If I hadn’t brought Dan into our lives all those years ago, this wouldn’t have happened.”
“It’s not your fault.”
Diane smiled. “Thanks, kid.”
It felt weird to have this energy between her and her mother. Her brain wanted to make smart comments and argue with her over any little thing, but her heart was opening a bit. It was still scary for her, but she had to try to trust her mother.
“We’d better get to the restaurant,” Josie said, walking again.
“Josie, can I have a quick word with you?”
“I’ll go on in and get to work. Good to see you, Walker,” Diane said, turning left down the Riverwalk toward the restaurant.
“What’s up?”
“First of all, bravo on treating your mother better. I can see a big change in you.”
“Thanks, I guess.”
“I was wondering if you’d have dinner with me tonight? Nothing fancy. We could even eat in the guest house.”
“Walker, I already told you...”
“Yeah, I know. But I’d like to chat about this event. If we can make it a big enough deal, we can save this place. Isn’t that what you want?”
That was what she wanted. She also wanted him, and that fact was annoying her. Josie’s way of dealing with things had always been avoidance. Avoiding situations. Avoiding feelings. At first, she thought she missed Craig, but surprisingly she didn’t. The thought that she’d almost married a man that she didn’t even miss scared her. How could she trust her own intuition if it had led her there? So, as much as she was attracted to Walker in ways she was never attracted to Craig, could she trust herself to get into another relationship?
She furrowed her eyebrows. “Are you trying to blackmail me into eating dinner with you?”
“How can it be blackmail if I’m offering homemade chicken and dumplings?”
Josie turned and walked toward the restaurant. “What time?”
“Six thirty. And be on time. It’s not like you have to travel far,” he called behind her. She couldn’t help but smile, but she didn’t let him see that.
* * *
Josie could barely keep her eyes open as she walked home. Her employees, including her mother, were still at the restaurant handling the dinner rush. She, on the other hand, was going home to eat dinner with Walker in her own backyard. So close to her comfortable bed, so close to a quick nap.
She knew it wasn’t to be when she saw Walker waving from the backyard as she turned the corner. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to spend time with him; it was more that her mind was tired. Trying to figure out how to save the restaurant she didn’t think she wanted was exhausting mentally. Plus, she felt bad that everyone else was working late while she had a handsome Southern gentleman making her dinner.
“Ten minutes on the biscuits!” he called over the fence between them. She held up her hand.
“I know. I can tell time, Walker.” Josie had always had a sarcastic sense of humor, and for the life of her, she didn’t know why Walker liked her sometimes. She could be snarky to a fault, but it didn’t seem to faze him.
He was handsome. She had to give him that. In his pale-pink golf shirt and khaki shorts, he looked like somebody’s really hot dad who spent all his time at the golf course.
She turned the key and walked into the house. Kendra wasn’t home, according to her last text. She was eating dinner with Scotty and his family, chatting about their prom plans. This was a new side to her daughter she hadn’t expected. What if she was a good kid all along and Josie just wasn’t giving her credit?
The cold air-conditioning hit her face as she entered the house. She wanted to curl up on the sofa with a good book, but she was also starving. Hopefully, Walker was a decent cook. She’d never met a man who could cook, so it would be a first.
Of course, it was hard to match her grandmother’s cooking. She never looked at a recipe. She didn’t measure a thing. The best Southern cooks didn’t. They just knew what to put in and how to make the richest comfort foods.
She walked upstairs and quickly changed out of her work clothes. They smelled like a mixture of catfish and pound cake, and it wasn’t an attractive combo. There was no time to take a full shower and wash her hair since Walker was expecting her in five minutes, so she used a wet washcloth to do a quick cleanup before dousing herself in body spray. Now she smelled like a catfish wearing perfume. Lovely.
A few moments later, she was walking across her backyard, heading to Walker’s place. The guest house was small, with just one bedroom, a bathroom, a small living room, and a kitchen. It was cute with its little front porch and gabled roof.
“Welcome to my humble abode.” Walker opened the door before she could knock, a pitcher in his hands. “You like sweet tea?”
“Who doesn’t?”
Sweet tea was a Southern thing, for sure. Of course, Josie hadn’t known that when she visited Boston for a business trip once. She sat down in the restaurant, hungry as could be. When the server asked Josie what she wanted, Josie said sweet tea. She remembered how the woman looked at her with such disdain.
“We have iced tea,” the woman had said.
“Well, is it sweet?” Josie had responded, annoyed as usual.
The woman stared at her like she was an alien. “You can put sugar in it.”
“In cold tea? With ice? Are you crazy?”
Finally, Josie’s business associate, who was having lunch with her, explained that sweet tea was purely Southern. She could’ve been knocked over with a feather. In any good Southerner’s opinion, sweet tea should be the national beverage.
“Come on in.”
Josie was immediately surprised by how well decorated Walker’s place was. She wondered if a previous girlfriend had done it, or if he was just good at everything.
“Nice place,” she said, following him to the small kitchen which overlooked the garden. He had a couple of little planters on the windowsill, one growing basil and the other growing rosemary.
“Not as nice as yours, but at least I have a relaxing view of the garden and the back porch.”
“Stalker,” she said, sitting down on the barstool. The kitchen wasn’t large enough for an actual table.
Walker smiled. “Here you go,” he said, sliding a glass of sweet tea over to her. “Lemon?”
“No, thanks.”
He pulled the other barstool around so he could sit across the bar from her. “The biscuits are almost done.”
“Okay.”
“Do you smell fish?” he asked, scrunching his nose.
She laughed. “Sorry. I didn’t have a chance to shower.”
“Oh. Gotcha. Well, no biggie. I like fish.”
“Are you always this positive?”
He shrugged his shoulders. “I try to be.”
“I guess that’s a good quality, but it can get annoying.”
“Duly noted.”
“Sorry. I guess I’m just in a mood today. The stress of all this is getting to me.”
He smiled. “Well, then, I have some good news for you.”
“You do?” she asked, taking a sip of her tea. One important factor in being a good Southerner was making perfect sweet tea. There was a fine line between not sweet enough and ropey sweet. His tea fell right in the middle.
“I’ve been on the phone all day, and I’ve run around all over town.”
“Didn’t you have work to do?”
“You mean all those boats and that hole in your roof? Yeah, but priorities, right?”
She laughed. “Right.”
“Anyway, we’re going to have a fundraising event this weekend right in the middle of downtown. I’ve got at least ten vendors signed up, a couple of food trucks, and entertainment.”
“Wow! That’s a lot of stuff. How’d you do that so fast?”
He grinned and crossed his arms. “People kind of love me around here.”
“I can see that. What do you need me to do? Make flyers? Or maybe I can talk to the local radio station?”
“Both great ideas. I also think it’d be good to keep the restaurant open and maybe have some specials. Perhaps even have a trivia challenge people can pay to enter? Just shooting out ideas here.”
“Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“Why are you helping me like this?”
Walker smiled. “Because that’s what people do around here, Josie. I loved your grandmother like she was my own blood. She was good to me, so I’m going to be good to her granddaughter no matter how much she distrusts me.”
“I don’t distrust you. Not totally.”
“You don’t trust anybody, Josie, and I can see why. Sort of. But if you want to save the restaurant, it’s time to step out there and trust the people of this town to have your back.”
“I’m trying. I really am. It’s hard to believe a bunch of strangers care enough to help me get out of this mess.” For a moment, she flashed back to her dinner with Craig after she lost her job. He hadn’t been supportive at all, but here was Walker, doing everything he could to help her. They weren’t even dating, and already he was more supportive than Craig had been throughout most of their relationship.
“They cared about Adeline. Now let them care about you too.”
“Can I ask you something else?”
He sighed and then laughed. “Sure.”
“Are you going to feed me dinner or just force me to sit here smelling that pot of chicken and dumplings?”
* * *
Josie stood on the front porch, craning her head as she looked down the street. This was the day she’d been dreading since arriving in Happy Harbor. It would only last for two days, thankfully. Primmy had negotiated with her to only have tours for those two days and then be done for a few months.
She saw the small shuttle bus coming down her street and drew in a deep breath. As she blew it out slowly, the vehicle came to a stop in front of her gate.
“Good morning, Josie!” Primmy called, her Southern drawl thicker than molasses.
“Good morning,” Josie said, a fake smile plastered on her face. She counted eight women as they climbed out of the shuttle. “Welcome to my family’s home.”
Primmy immediately interrupted. “This is Josie Campbell, the great-great-granddaughter of Franklin Durham Carter, the original owner. The home was built in 1886, and Mr. Carter served as the town’s mayor during the late 1800s. He was very well loved, as was his granddaughter, Adeline Campbell, who recently passed.”
“That about covers it,” Josie said, under her breath. Last she heard, Primmy had wanted her to say that part. Instead, she was just standing there like an idiot with nothing to say.
“Before we go inside to see this lovely home, I do have something to say that is rather distressing,” Primmy told the captivated crowd. “Later today I’ll be taking you to lunch at Campbell’s Café, which is this town’s prized historic restaurant. However, Campbell’s is now at risk of closing because of a financial hardship. As I mentioned, poor Adeline Campbell recently succumbed to some health problems, and Josie here is trying to save the business. I know y’all would never want to see a gem of the community close down.” There were audible gasps in the small group of women, one woman holding her hand over her mouth. Josie had to give it to Primmy. She was a talented public speaker.
“What can we do?” one woman asked, as if on cue.
“I’m so happy you asked, Lita. I know how generous you are. We’re taking donations today to go toward saving our beloved restaurant. Anyone willing to give will get a free ticket for a tour of the mayor’s home!” Again, there were gasps in the crowd.
“Thank you, everyone. There are donation boxes in the house,” Josie said, smiling for real this time.
As the tour passed by her and went into the house, she smiled to herself. People really wanted to help, and she was grateful, if not confused. As a kid, she’d never paid attention to the kindness of the people of Happy Harbor. They were all just old fuddy-duddies to her. Now, they were her allies and the people she needed to depend on to save the restaurant.
Everybody around her seemed to be rallying, so she supposed it was her turn to get involved and actively work to save her family’s legacy.
* * *
Scotty’s eyes widened. “So, she paid him off?”
“We think so,” Kendra said. “That’s why she borrowed the money, at least.”
He took a bite of his sandwich as they sat on the stage. Sitting in the theater for lunch had become “their thing.” Sometimes they sat at a table with their group of friends, but other times—like today—they sat on the edge of the stage with their legs dangling over the side.
“That’s horrible. I hope everybody can donate enough money to save the restaurant. I love that place.”
“Me too. Even though I’m new in town, this place already feels like home, and that restaurant is a part of my family’s history.”
“I’m sorry your family is going through this, Kendra. Are you sure you still want to go to prom? I mean, I would understand if it’s too much right now.”
She looked at him and smiled. “I still want to go to prom. Honestly, I never thought I would get to go.”
“Really? Why?”
“I wasn’t exactly a part of the popular crowd at my old school. I was the ‘troubled child,’” she said, using air quotes.
“That’s really hard for me to believe. I haven’t seen anything like that from you since you’ve been here.”
“Something about Happy Harbor just makes me wanna be a better person. It’s kind of weird.”
“I think it’s cool. Anybody can change their life when they want to.”
“At the risk of sounding really cheesy, I think it was you, at least partially.”
“Me? What did I do?”
She thought for a moment. “You chased me down and made me be friends with you. I didn’t have any friends back home.”
“Is that what we are? Friends?”
Kendra sat for another moment. Then, without thinking it through, she leaned over and gave him a quick peck on the lips. “Okay, maybe a little more than friends.”