Chapter 11
If there was one perk of running the restaurant, it was that they were closed for dinner. Weird, but true. Nana had always kept the place open only for breakfast and lunch. It made sense, as most of the regulars were people who came in on the boats or who needed a place to eat during their lunch breaks. By dinnertime, most everything in Happy Harbor was shut down.
As Josie approached the house, ready to take a long hot bath, she saw a woman standing in front of her gate. She looked slightly familiar, but most everyone in town did. For a moment, she considered sneaking down the side road and going in through the back door, but the woman’s eyes met hers and she was stuck.
“Hey there! You must be Josie,” the woman said, basically blocking her entrance to her own home. Her voice reeked of old Southern money, almost like sawmill gravy would spew from her pores at any moment.
“Who are you?”
She smiled, fake though it was, and raised her nose slightly higher. “I’m Primrose Abernathy, of the Charleston Abernathys. Most people call me Primmy.”
“Okay.” If Josie was supposed to be impressed, it wasn’t happening.
Primmy looked at her for a long moment, obviously expecting a reaction. “Surely your grandmother has mentioned me over the years?”
“I don’t think so.”
“I won the Happy Harbor gardening award three years straight, and I win the Fourth of July bake-off every year.”
“Congrats. Listen, I’m tired, so I really need to go inside,” Josie said, trying to get past her. The woman had hips the size of a military warship, and there was no getting by her without a fight. Plus, she was wearing an enormous hat with a big yellow flower on the side that would surely put Josie’s eye out if she tried to go around it.
“Dear, I’m also the head of the Happy Harbor Historical Society.”
Frustrated, Josie sighed and looked at her. “Ma’am, did you come here to give me your list of accomplishments, or is there a point to all of this?”
Primmy pursed her lips so tight it looked like she’d sucked on a lemon. “Your manners aren’t like your grandmother’s. She was always so welcoming.”
“Yeah, well, I’m not.”
Now they were in what appeared to be a staring contest. The only problem was it seemed Primmy won everything, and Josie wanted to go to sleep, so she blinked first.
“What can I help you with, Primmy?”
“Tours begin again in two weeks.”
“Tours?”
Primmy sighed. “Surely, Joe Strand explained that part of getting this home after Adeline passed was that you would work closely with the local historical society?”
“He mentioned something.”
“It’s on the historical registry. It’s very important to this community.”
“Yes, I saw the plaque. Look, can you get to the point? I’m really trying hard not to be rude, but I need to wash this day off of me.”
Primmy scrunched her nose as if Josie had passed gas or something. “Part of our agreement with Adeline has been to allow tours twice a year. Our next tours start in two weeks. Here’s a packet of information for you to review. You’ll need to be here to open the home at eight each morning for that week.”
“Wait. What? An entire week of people tromping through my home? And I can’t be here every morning. I have to work. You know, at the restaurant my grandmother also left me?”
“You have two weeks to figure it out,” Primmy said sternly. The woman wasn’t budging.
“Fine. Whatever.” Josie snatched the packet from her hand. “But we’re not doing this again.”
“Dear, you must continue the tours. This is a historic home. There are rules. Do you want your grandmother’s work to be in vain?”
Josie pointed toward Primmy’s car. “Just go. Please. I’ll talk to her attorney about our options. I will not have my home open to the public for the next six months of my life.”
Primmy snickered and stepped aside. “Well, from what I’ve heard, you won’t be here long, anyway.”
Josie thought about saying something back, but for once she held her tongue. Prolonging this conversation just meant she couldn’t get to that nice hot bath.
* * *
Josie had spent the last two days interviewing potential servers and finally found one she liked enough to hire. Her name was Mona, and she’d been working as a server for most of her adult life, which sounded horrible to Josie. Mona had recently moved to Happy Harbor to take care of her great-aunt.
As Josie stood in front of her staff, she geared herself up for a fight. She had called them all together for what her nana would’ve referred to as a “come to Jesus” session.
“I appreciate everyone coming in this early, even those of you who usually work afternoons and weekends.” Nobody said a word. “Okay, then. I wanted to let you know about some changes we’re making at the restaurant.”
“Changes?” Bear said, as if he didn’t understand the word.
“Is that surprising to you?”
“Well, yes, to be honest. Miss Adeline wasn’t big on change. She used to say that if something works, you keep doing it. No need to mess things up by changing them.”
Josie smiled because that sounded like Nana. “I’m sure she said that, but y’all have to realize that I’m not Adeline. I loved my nana with all of my heart. She raised me. She was my mother.” Diane shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “But that doesn’t mean I’ll do everything like she did. This place needs to move into the future, not be stuck in the past.”
“So, what are these changes?” Diane asked.
“First off, we’re going to stop serving the buffet on Sunday.”
“What? But that’s our biggest tip day of the week!” Diane said.
“It may be, but we’re losing money on the buffet. People come in here and eat as much as they’d eat in an entire week for less than ten bucks. We can’t keep doing that, not with the price of meat the way it is.”
“So, what will we do on Sundays?” Tabby asked.
“We’ll just serve our normal menu, except I want Bear and Juanita to come up with some new dishes that are only available on Sundays. What was most popular on the buffet?”
Bear thought for a moment. “The meatloaf was pretty popular. Oh, and the chicken pot pie.”
“We’ll put those on the Sunday menu only, and we’ll increase the price by twenty percent. We’ll make them meals with cornbread or biscuits, plus a dessert. Something cheap, like peach cobbler or pound cake.”
“We’re just going to be like every other restaurant around here without the buffet,” Diane said. “We always got the huge church crowd on Sundays because it was so reasonable. Surely there’s another way?—”
“This is what we’re doing,” Josie said, cutting her off. “I brought you here to inform you, not to ask your opinions.” As soon as she’d said it, she knew it was the wrong approach. Everyone stared at her like she’d just removed all her clothes. “Anyway, that is the first big change.”
“There are more?” Juanita asked.
“Yes. Starting this Friday, we will be open for dinner on Friday and Saturday nights. We will close at ten p.m.”
“I can’t work that late!” Juanita said as everyone else said things that Josie couldn’t make out. “I have kids!”
“We all have to make sacrifices to make this work,” Josie said, trying not to make eye contact with anyone particular. “On Fridays and Saturdays, we’ll also have karaoke set up over there in the corner. And we’ll start doing trivia nights on Wednesdays, but we’ll close at eight on that night.”
“Josie, you can’t be serious about all this,” Diane whispered loudly.
“I’m very serious. Listen up, everybody!” she yelled over all the frantic talking. “I don’t like change any more than you do, but the fact is that this restaurant needs growth. Keeping things the same won’t work. These changes are for y’all as much as they are for me. You’ll get more tips and more hours.”
“We need more people then,” Juanita said.
“I just hired an additional server.”
“I mean in the kitchen. How are we supposed to cover all these hours?”
“I will rework the schedule to accommodate the additional hours. You’ll see it on the bulletin board by the end of today. In the meantime, let’s get ready for the morning rush.” She stood there looking at them until everybody finally stood up and walked toward the back. Diane remained sitting.
“You’re going to drive these people away.”
“What do you expect me to do? If I don’t make changes, this place won’t succeed, and then everyone will be out of a job.” She walked behind the hostess stand and put her clipboard on the shelf.
Diane stood up. “Little changes wouldn’t be a big deal, but you just turned their worlds upside down. Bear has little kids he hardly sees now, yet he’s supposed to cover more hours and stay later? Donnie cares for his elderly uncle. He can’t afford in-home care, Josie.”
She sighed. “I can’t be responsible for everyone’s problems, Mom.”
Diane froze in place, her breath audibly catching in her throat. It took Josie a moment to realize what she’d said.
“You called me Mom. I haven’t heard you call me that in so many years,” she said quietly, her voice shaking a bit.
“It was an accident, I assure you,” Josie said. “Nana was my mother. You know that. It was just muscle memory.”
Diane cleared her throat and quickly wiped her index finger under one eye. “Of course.”
There was a long pause before Josie looked at her. “Was there anything else?”
“I suppose not,” Diane said, turning and walking toward the kitchen, her shoulders slouched forward. Josie felt a tiny pang of guilt, but it quickly passed. This woman wasn’t her mother. She’d done nothing but wreck her life since she was a kid, and trusting her again wasn’t something Josie was prepared to do, hurt feelings or not.
* * *
Kendra stood in the middle of the bustling cafeteria, a tray in her hand holding the prized slice of pizza she’d been longing for all day. School was just as boring in Happy Harbor as it was back in Atlanta. Teachers droning on and on about things she would never use. Kids either not paying attention or being total nerds and asking tons of questions. All of it was a snooze fest, and now she was going to be forced to eat alone as usual.
“Hey.”
She knew that voice. She turned to see Scotty standing beside her, holding his own tray with a hamburger and a side of fries. “Hey.”
“Need a place to sit?”
“I don’t need anything, actually,” she said, being defensive for absolutely no reason.
He chuckled. “Got it.” As he started walking away, Kendra realized she was doing what her mother did—shutting people out. The last thing she wanted was to end up bitter like her mother seemed to be, even when people were just trying to be nice.
“Scotty, wait.”
He turned around. “Yeah?”
“I guess I could use a place to sit.”
He smiled. “Follow me.”
They walked out of the cafeteria and through a couple of double doors. She was surprised to see they were walking directly onto the theater stage.
“What are we doing?”
“I’m involved in our drama department. Mrs. Downey lets me eat lunch in here when I want to. The cafeteria is too much for me sometimes.”
“Too much?”
“I’m ‘on the spectrum,’ as they say.” He did air quotes, which was one of her pet peeves.
He pulled two chairs over to a small wooden table right in the middle of the stage. Even though nobody else was in there, it felt weird to be on display. She sat down and put her napkin on her lap.
“What does that mean?”
“You’ve heard of autism, right?”
“Yeah, but I don’t really know what that means for someone like you.”
He laughed. “Someone like me?”
“Well, you know... I mean, you seem like you’re okay...”
“Not everyone on the spectrum has the same symptoms. We didn’t even know I was until a couple of years ago. Until then, school was really hard for me.” He took a bite of his hamburger.
“How so?”
“Well, I had problems reading people’s social cues. I mean, I chased you home to hand you a pen. Can you see how that’s a little unique?”
She smiled. “I thought so at first, but then I figured you were just being Southern. You know, chivalry and all that stuff.”
He shrugged his shoulders. “There might’ve been a little of that too.”
“So, how are you doing now?”
“I’m good. Once my teachers and classmates understood me better, things improved. My grades are good, and I don’t feel so anxious anymore.”
“That’s good. I’m happy for you, Scotty.” And she really was happy for him. She knew what it felt like to feel different and even less than everyone else. She didn’t have autism, but she’d struggled in school just the same.
“I used to get in trouble for what my teachers called ‘monologues.’”
“What does that mean?”
“Well, they’d ask for an answer to a question, and I’d basically recite the answer plus a long explanation. I try not to do that anymore. I have trouble reading facial expressions sometimes too. I’m just telling you in case you think I’m being rude or too intrusive or something...”
“Scotty, it’s fine. We’re cool,” she said, stopping him from the impending monologue.
“Good.”
She took a bite of her pizza and wiped her mouth. “Does your girlfriend go here?”
“Girlfriend?”
“The one you mentioned the other day?”
His eyes widened. “Oh, right. No, she lives in Canada.”
“Canada?”
He hung his head. “Fine, I don’t have a girlfriend. See how I don’t read social cues well?”
Kendra chuckled. “Why did you tell me that, then?”
“Because you thought I liked you, and I didn’t want you to think I was some freak who was flirting with you?”
She looked at him for a moment. “Were you?”
“Maybe.”
“Was that your pen, Scotty?”
He bit his very adorable lip. “I plead the fifth.”
* * *
The last few days had been pure torture. Never in her life had Josie planned to work in the restaurant business, and certainly not with her mother.
Everybody seemed to love Diane, or Dee Dee as they all called her. Josie spent most of her day gritting her teeth as people chatted and laughed with the same woman who ruined her entire childhood. It drove her nuts.
On top of that, there were the new rules she’d made. Basically, they weren’t working. Juanita had threatened to quit twice, Bear wasn’t speaking to her, and even Tabby seemed angry.
Trivia night hadn’t been so bad, but closing late on the weekends hadn’t resulted in more money, and it had done nothing but make her exhausted. Still, she had to give it a chance. Not having restaurant experience left her with few workable ideas, and she wasn’t about to ask her mother for help.
“Yikes. You look positively worn out.”
She turned to see Walker standing on a nearby boat. This was her break time, which was very short because she was afraid the employees would sneak out the back door while she was gone. Lunch rush had been insane, and she just needed a moment to look out over the river and breathe.
“There isn’t even a word for how tired I am.”
He walked closer and sat down on the edge of the boat. “Things aren’t going well at work?”
“If you consider everybody and my mother hating me, then yeah, it’s going fantastic.”
“Change is always hard.”
“They just fight me at every turn,” she said, sighing.
Walker smiled. “I meant the change you’re going through.”
“Oh.”
“Can I help?”
“How could you help?”
“Take you out to a nice dinner sometime?”
Her heart rate quickened. What did he just say? Did he ask her out? Where did that even come from? She wasn’t sure whether to be aggravated or flattered.
“What?”
“Relax. I just mean one friend taking another friend to dinner.”
“I’m your landlord.”
“Yeah, it’s quite the power dynamic,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Listen, I can see you’re spiraling out of control here, Josie. I’m just trying to give you a break.”
“I appreciate the offer, but I can’t. Everything is just too busy here.”
He held up his hands. “Got it. I won’t ask again, but if you ever want to take me up on the offer, just ask.”
“You won’t ask again? Is that some kind of warning?” she asked, laughing. Walker didn’t crack a smile.
“No, but it is my way of saying I don’t chase people, including friends. You’re a person who needs help but refuses to ask for it because you don’t seem to trust anyone. At least, that’s the vibe you’re giving off. If that’s true, the only way you’ll change is if you’re forced to ask for help.”
“Change is a myth. The only change I’ve seen in my life has been bad.” She turned toward the restaurant.
“How did you get this way, Josie Campbell?”
She looked back over her shoulder. “We’re not good enough friends for me to tell you that, Walker Jackson.”
* * *
Kendra couldn’t help it. She liked Scotty. Spending the last few days at school with an actual friend was something she’d dreamed of at her other high schools. And it wasn’t just Scotty. Other people were nice to her, even teachers. While she’d hung out with other kids at her old schools, she never felt like she had real friends who would be there for her when she was having a bad day.
“Truth or dare,” Scotty said, grinning. They’d been sitting in the middle of the grassy quad between the buildings for the last thirty minutes. School was over, but Kendra was having so much fun that she didn’t mind staying a while.
“Truth.”
He thought for a moment. “What’s your biggest fear?”
“Hmm... Spiders.”
He tilted his head. “Deeper.”
“What?”
“A deeper fear. Not like bugs or roller coasters. Let’s get deep, Kendra.”
She chuckled. “What is this? Therapy?”
“That’s what I’m going to school for. Might as well practice now.”
“You’re going to be a therapist?”
“Yeah. A child therapist. I don’t want other kids to feel like being different is a bad thing.”
She smiled. “That’s really nice, Scotty.”
“Now, what’s your deepest fear?”
She paused, unsure of what she wanted to say. “Being alone, I guess. Like, losing my family and having nobody.”
“You’ll always have me, Kendra.”
“We barely know each other.”
“So? Is there a time limit on when you can care about somebody?”
“For me, there always has been.”
“Okay, ask me one.”
“Truth or dare?”
“Dare.”
“I want you to stand up and skip around the whole quad,” Kendra said, giggling. The place was full of kids studying and a couple of band members practicing in one corner.
Without another word, Scotty stood up and proceeded to skip all over the place, other students staring at him like he was a nut. Kendra cackled with laughter, finally falling over on her back.
“How was that?” he asked, sitting down quickly, out of breath.
“Epic!”
“Your turn again. Truth or dare?”
“I don’t want to get deep again, so I guess dare.”
Scotty stood up. “Dance with me.”
“What?”
He opened a playlist on his phone and started a slow song. It was actually one of her favorites. “Dance with me.”
“Right here? In front of everybody?”
He looked around. “Who cares about them?”
“Um, I do.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m trying to make a good impression here.”
“And dancing makes a bad impression?”
She stared up at him. “When you randomly dance in the quad, yes.”
His face fell a bit. “So, you won’t dance with me?”
Kendra felt a pang of guilt. “Okay, but can we move behind the wall?” She pointed to a brick wall that would get them out of sight and not make her feel like an idiot.
“Compromise. I like it.”
He moved a few steps to the left and Kendra joined him, nerves in her stomach. She didn’t know why they were there. Was it the fact that others might see them? Or was it that she liked Scotty more than she cared to admit?
He slid a hand around her waist and held her other hand in his. Scotty was a surprisingly good dancer, taking the lead with ease. Within seconds, Kendra felt a smile on her face. “You’re not a bad dancer,” she said, looking up at him.
“Thanks. My mom made me take some lessons when I was a kid.”
“Why?”
“She said men needed to learn how to lead, and that started with dancing.”
“Your mom sounds interesting.”
“She is.”
They swayed back and forth for a couple of minutes, and Kendra found herself not wanting to stop. Scotty was nothing like any guy she’d ever been interested in, but somehow it felt natural and comfortable.
The song ended and he abruptly let go, walking straight back to their area. He sat down and waited for her. She had to get used to Scotty’s differences when it came to social cues and interacting with others. She could see how it might offend other people, but it was just who he was.
“I guess it’s my turn,” she said, sitting down. “Truth.”
“Okay.”
“Have you ever kissed a girl?”
“Yes.”
“Who was the first girl you kissed?”
“That’s technically two questions, but I’ll allow it,” he said, chuckling. “Amy Peters. Fourth grade.”
“Wow. What a stud you must’ve been.”
“She didn’t see it coming. I got sent to the principal’s office.”
“Oh, you poor thing.”
“Back then, nobody knew I was on the spectrum. Looking back, it’s obvious now. I was always doing inappropriate things without thinking. I’m better about it now, I think.”
“Are you getting hungry?”
“Yes. You wanna go get a burger?”
“Sure,” she said, standing up and grabbing her bag. Being with Scotty was easy, and Kendra appreciated easy right now.