Chapter 18
The lunch rush had wound down to a comfortable hum, so Jo checked the crowdfunding campaign again. It was still climbing, a little every day. She pressed a hand to her cheek, thrilled with the progress.
At a large table by the window, April, Ella, Deb, and Junie were finishing lunch. They’d shared avocado burgers, two orders of sweet potato fries, and one slice of chocolate cream pie that all four of them had sworn they would only taste.
“Sit with us for a minute and tell us how your campaign is going,” April said, patting the chair beside her. “You never sit.”
“She can’t,” Ella said, straight-backed as a duchess with her bangles clicking on the tabletop. “This one’s been on her feet since she bought the place. If she sits down now, she’ll fall asleep, and then who’ll pour the coffee?”
“You know I heard that,” Jo said.
Ella smiled sweetly. “You were meant to, dear. Now, if you won’t sit with us, at least tell us how your campaign is going.”
“Every day it climbs a little higher. It’s exciting, and I’m getting everything ready to order and ship soon.”
Jo had met with a banker who was helping her arrange a short-term working capital loan based on her crowd-funded revenue.
That way, Jo could begin ordering what she needed to fulfill the campaign rewards for backers.
Thanks to Rocky, she knew how to approach the bank with the financial statements he had set up for her, which she could run whenever she wanted.
“I can hardly wait to receive my Jam Session box,” Deb said as she sipped her iced passionfruit tea.
“That’s my favorite one,” Junie said, stealing the last fry. “I’ll check the campaign stats now.” She picked up her phone.
“I just did,” Jo said.
“A lot can change in a few minutes,” Junie said. “I like to see it, too.”
While she waited, Jo glanced around the diner to see if anyone needed help, but everyone looked engaged and happy.
At the counter, Hank had his reading glasses on the end of his nose, squinting at his phone as he did most afternoons while he nursed his coffee and caught up on island gossip.
“Well, would you look at that,” he announced loudly. “Our local boy won his heat. Sailor Marino, right here on the sports news.”
“We heard, Hank,” Junie called over. “Yesterday.”
“We’re all very proud,” Ella added.
April beamed. “Maileah called us right after it happened. She said he came out of that wave like he was shot from a cannon.”
“Uh-huh.” Hank scrolled. His eyebrows climbed toward his hairline. “Well, then. I suppose you all know he got married, too.”
The table went silent. So did the rest of the diner.
April blinked. “I’m sorry, what?”
“Says right here.” Hank held the phone at arm’s length and read it slowly, enjoying himself. “Champion surfer Sailor Marino and Maileah Raines wed in Tahiti following his win. It has pictures and everything.” He looked up over his glasses. “Did you folks know they were planning to elope?”
April’s hands flew to her cheeks. Ella’s eyes went wide. Deb whipped her head around.
And Junie covered a smile with her hand.
“Junie Raines,” April said. “You knew, didn’t you?”
“Not for sure,” Junie said. “But I suspected.”
April shook her head in amazement. “How?”
“She asked me a very suspicious question about marriage licenses a couple of months ago,” Junie said, laughing. “That’s all I’m saying. We all know Maileah is our wild child. She does whatever she wants.”
Candy already had the remote in her hand and was flicking through channels on the TV over the counter. The sports channel had it. Sun-bright footage from another island half a world away, and there they were.
“Turn it up,” Jo said, growing excited for Maileah.
Everyone moved closer.
Maileah wore a long, flowing, white-on-white embroidered linen dress that tied over one shoulder.
Over her hair was a crown of white flowers.
Sailor wore a simple white pareo wrapped around his waist and a lei draped around his neck.
They both wore shell necklaces and stood barefoot on the beach, holding hands.
And they both looked exuberantly happy.
The whole diner made a sound at once.
“Oh, my sweet girl,” April said. “She looks so happy and beautiful." I wish we could have been there.”
“I think that was the point, Mom,” Junie said softly. “She didn’t want the fuss. She might create fancy promotions for everyone else, but that’s not her style. Not anymore.”
April was crying before the footage cut away. Deb put her arm around her friend’s shoulders, and Ella was fumbling in her handbag for tissues.
“I can’t believe they’re married,” April said, laughing and wiping her cheeks with the heel of her hand. “On a beach in Tahiti. Without us.”
Ella smiled wistfully. “I think it’s marvelously romantic. Simple, easy, no stress. Very sensible.”
Still crying, April took turns hugging everyone at the table.
Jo disappeared into the kitchen, where she opened the refrigerator. The diner had come with a liquor license, so she served beer and wine, usually on Friday nights. She brought out a bottle of champagne, which she kept on hand for brunches and celebrations like this.
She swept out, whispering to Candy as she did. “Please bring the champagne flutes. And be sure to serve April first. She’s the mother of the bride, and I think she needs a glass right away. And bring out more dessert. The white chocolate cake is perfect.”
“Right away,” Candy said.
Then April’s phone lit up on the table and skittered, and Maileah’s face filled the screen.
April grabbed it, and with tears on her cheeks, she answered the video call.
“Hello, honey. We just saw your wedding on the sports channel. Wait a minute, I’m with your sister and grandmother.
Deb is here, too. We’re at the diner, and Jo is here. Everyone, gather around.”
Listening to the conversation, Jo opened the champagne and poured the flutes Candy brought to the table. She waved at Maileah on the screen and blew her a kiss.
“There,” April said, holding up the phone.
Everyone shouted their congratulations, and a cheer went up throughout the diner.
“You’re not upset with me?” Maileah asked.
“Oh, honey, no. We know it’s just what you wanted.” April cast a look at Ella, who nodded her approval. “I’m sure it was perfect, with no fuss at all.”
“That’s what we wanted,” Maileah said. “I didn’t want Dad to walk me down the aisle, not after what he did to you. To all of us. We’ll throw a big party on Crown Island to celebrate when we return.”
April beamed, her eyes shining brightly. “Say hi to Junie and Jo,” she added, motioning for them to get into the frame for the video.
“Congrats,” Jo said. “Everything looked gorgeous.”
“I suspected you were going to do something like that,” Junie added, laughing. “But you pulled it off.”
“It was so hard keeping a secret from all of you,” Maileah said. “I almost gave it away so many times.”
“Like asking about marriage licenses,” Junie said, smiling. “You could have looked that up online.”
“But you’ve been married before, so I thought you’d know more about it.”
They passed the phone back to April, who moved toward the window where the light was better. She kept one hand over her heart as she spoke. Ella, Junie, and Deb crowded around her, all of them talking and laughing at once over the little screen.
Jo watched them, thinking about what she and Blue might have planned. On the beach probably. Her mother wouldn’t be interested. Or maybe she would. Blue’s family wouldn’t bother coming. Maybe they should have escaped long ago before their lives got complicated.
She sighed. It was all just as well there was no wedding.
Still, she was happy for Maileah and Sailor. They were so in sync with each other. They’d found their one.
She thought of the photo she’d seen last night again and wished she hadn’t. Sadie wanted to follow Jo on social media, so she’d swapped profiles with her, thinking it might draw them closer. It hadn’t. But she still saw Sadie’s posts, mostly about her rambunctious boys.
And then, that one. Maybe Athena was why he was moving back to Chicago.
The caption said, Family dinner. Look who came home. Gorgeous together. With a row of hearts.
Later that day after the wedding celebration waned, her phone rang while she rolled her bike out the diner’s rear door.
It was Blue. How dare he call her now, she thought, frowning at the small screen.
She stood there and let it ring twice more, intending to send it to voicemail. Then, because she was apparently not as strong as she’d been telling herself, she answered.
“What’s up, Blumenthal? Having fun with the family?”
“Jo, I’m glad you picked up.”
She steadied her voice. “It’s kind of a bad time. We’re slammed.” She kicked the door open to let some noise out. “I’ll be right there,” she called out to no one.
“It’ll only take a minute. There’s something I want to tell you—”
“Blue.” She closed her eyes. “Don’t.”
Silence stretched on the line.
The image was burned into her mind. Blue’s arm around Athena’s shoulders. Elyse in the background, looking so happy for them.
“I need to tell you—”
“Just follow your heart,” Jo said. “Wherever it takes you.”
“That’s what I’m calling to—”
“I hope you’re happy there. I mean it.”
“Would you listen to me for one minute?”
“I can’t.” Her throat closed. “Goodbye, Blue.”
She hung up and pressed against the side of the building to steady herself. She couldn’t keep talking to him. It hurt too much.
When she got home, she sank onto her bed and made a call—the only one she could. She threw off her diner clothes and changed. Soon, she was on the ferry, then driving toward her grandmother's home.
The independent living home sat on a jacaranda-lined street in San Diego, a low building with Spanish tile and a courtyard where the residents played cards under a pergola strung with lights. Jo signed in at the front desk.
“I’m here for Rose Dufour,” she said. “I’m her granddaughter.”
The receptionist smiled. “She’s in the theater. They’re showing a film this evening.” She signaled a young man in a polo shirt. “Dan, would you go get Miss Rose for me? Her granddaughter’s here.”
“You don’t have to pull her out of a movie—”
“Now don’t be silly. She’ll be right here.”
Jo waited in a chair by the fountain. A few minutes later her grandmother strode in wearing lipstick and a silk scarf with a linen shirt.
“Josephine, what a nice surprise.” She opened her arms to her.
“I pulled you out of your film,” Jo said, hugging her. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. It was terrible.” Rose patted her cheek. “Come. I have tea and cookies in my room. Hugo brought them on Sunday. Made them himself for me from my own recipe. Imagine that. The boy can bake.”
Jo smiled, proud of him. “He learned that in my kitchen, and I learned from you.”
Rose put on the kettle, and they sat in her room with the window open to the courtyard and a tin of cookies between them.
“Hugo is studying very hard,” Rose said. “He’ll be a great success someday. I think he worries about how hard you’re working and the money you give him for school. He thinks I don’t know or notice, but I notice everything.”
Jo opened her mouth to speak, but her grandmother wasn’t finished.
She dipped her chin. “Like that brave smile you walked in with. Now, tell me what happened, and why you came to visit tonight.”
Jo hardly knew where to start. “The good news is my campaign is going well.” She shared the details.
“Why, that’s wonderful. I’ve been telling everyone I know. I’m so proud of you.”
The kettle whistled, and Rose got up to pour the tea.
While Rose prepared their tea, Jo told her about the women supplying her beans, and the other women supplying things like canvas shopping bags and mugs. She mentioned the women she was hiring to pack and ship.
They sat down again with their tea and cookies between them.
“So every bean in every bag is grown, roasted, and sealed by a woman’s hands,” Jo said, finishing her report. “I wanted to highlight the invisible work that women in the coffee industry do.”
Rose’s face lit with pride, and she clasped Jo’s hands. “That’s my brave young woman. I always knew you would do great things.”
“And I’m letting go of Blue,” Jo added, biting her lip.
Her grandmother merely nodded. “Tell me about that.”
“He called today from Chicago, and I hung up on him.” Jo stirred her tea and blinked back tears.
“He’s gone back to his old life and all the people who love him.
And he belongs there. He’s a Chicago man.
You should see him watch a Bears game. He yells at the television like they can hear him and wears a jersey that’s falling apart because it’s lucky.
Crown Island never stood a chance. Or me. ”
“His loss,” Rose said.
“I’m letting him go because I love him. I want him to have the life he really wants, not one he settled for out of grief.”
“That’s awfully magnanimous of you. Are you sure?”
“I finally figured out that’s what loving somebody is. Letting them go.”
“Not fighting for them?”
Jo shook her head. “I’m tired of doing that.”
“I see.” Rose seemed to be mulling over a thought. Finally, she took Jo’s hand. “You’re right. Let him be.”
Jo wiped a tear from her cheek. “That’s it?”
“Did you expect an argument from me?” Rose lifted an eyebrow.
“A man you talk into a marriage will resent you for it eventually. I’ve watched your mother drag three of them across the finish line, and not one of them stayed.
And this latest one…” She flicked her hand as if that said it all. “You’ve done all you can do.”
“Then why doesn’t it feel like I did the right thing?”
“The heart wants what it wants, chérie.” She took Jo’s hand. “Live your life. You never know what will happen in the future. Who you’ll meet, where you’ll go.”
“So that’s it? That’s your advice?”
“That’s all I have for you.” Rose lifted a shoulder. “In the meantime, look at all you’ve done. You have a business with your name on it that’s expanding—and you’re doing good in the world. Bravo for you. Don’t let some thick-headed man in Chicago make you forget that.”
“I love you so much,” Jo said, throwing her arms around her grandmother and smiling into her silk scarf.
Rose echoed her words and rubbed Jo’s back as she always had. “Life hurts sometimes, but you’ll be fine, kitten. You’ll see. You’re a lioness at heart.”
Jo left feeling lighter and made the last ferry. As she crossed the darkened sea back to Crown Island, she held her grandmother’s words tight in her heart.
You’ll be fine, kitten. You’ll see.