Happy Harbor, page 10
Diane sighed. “Why must you think the worst of me any chance you get?”
“You have to ask me that?” Josie said, rolling her eyes.
“I didn’t want our first meeting in a decade to be in a group of people because I knew how you’d react to seeing me. So, I waited until I knew we’d be alone at the restaurant.”
Josie would never admit it out loud, but her logic made sense. If she’d seen her at the funeral, not knowing she’d been in Nana’s life secretly for years, she would’ve made a scene and ruined the service. In a way, it was kind of sweet that she let Josie have that time to grieve without making it about herself.
“Look, you know how much I loved Nana. I want to honor her memory and do what she asked. Plus, I don’t want more mimes being created because I left before the six months.”
Diane giggled. “I remember when I took you to the circus when you were a kid, and they had a mime near the bathroom. You had to go so bad, but you held it until we got home because you wouldn’t walk past that woman.”
“They’re creepy,” Josie said, shivering. She hadn’t remembered her mom taking her to the circus until just now. The few good memories she had were so overshadowed by the bad ones. “Anyway, enough reminiscing. I’ve decided to stay and try to make this work. It will not be easy, and I don’t want you to be under any illusions, as Nana apparently was, that we’re going to forge some mother-daughter bond. There is way too much baggage.”
“Got it.”
“You do?”
Diane nodded. “I’m not oblivious to how you feel, Josie. I was a horrible mother, plain and simple. I won’t make excuses for it. I can only try to make amends, like my program teaches. The most I can hope for is that you see I’ve changed.”
Josie stood up. “Be at work at seven tomorrow.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Diane responded, standing up and saluting her.
Without a response, Josie went inside the house and shut the door. She had no idea how this was going to work. This might just be the longest six months of her life.
The next morning, Josie walked down the Riverwalk, listening to a bird squawking overhead. She had to admit this was a better commute than the one she had in Atlanta. She stopped for a moment and leaned against the wooden railing, looking out over the river. There were about six boats docked today, most of them fishing boats. There was one larger passenger boat, and she could see a man working on it. Well, she could see his feet, anyway.
“Mornin’,” she heard someone say. She turned to see Walker standing on one of the fishing boats, a paintbrush in his hand.
“Are you following me?”
He chuckled. “I told you, I work on boats for a living. This is really the only place I can do my job.”
“Oh.”
“First day open again, right?”
“Yep,” she said, turning toward the restaurant.
“Well, good luck!” he called as she continued walking. As she opened the door, she was surprised to see her mother already there, setting each table with a paper place mat and silverware wrapped in a white napkin.
“How’d you get here before me?”
Diane smiled. “Josie, I live upstairs.”
“Wait, what? Here? In the restaurant?”
“Momma finished an apartment up there years ago.”
“I had no idea. I thought that was for storage.”
“It used to be, but now we have a storage room behind the kitchen.”
“Oh. Do you pay rent?”
Diane looked at her for a moment. “Well, I haven’t.”
“You’re going to need to start.”
“Josie . . .”
“Look, I own this place now, and you’re not my daughter. If Nana wanted to be nice and let you live here for free, that was on her. For me, I need four hundred dollars a month. You can start next week, since it’ll be the first.”
Diane sucked in a sharp breath. “I thought we had a clean slate, but I guess I was wrong.”
“Who said we had a clean slate? I said I’d stay six months, and that means we have to work together. It doesn’t mean I have to give you free housing. I’m sorry, but my goal is to make this place more successful so when I sell it in six months, it’ll go for top dollar. Having a squatter living upstairs isn’t beneficial to me.”
“So, you’ve already decided you’re selling this place in six months? On day one?” Diane crossed her arms.
“I’m not spending the rest of my life in Happy Harbor. I’m honoring Nana, and then I’m taking what she left me, in monetary form, and starting a better life for me and my daughter. That’s my plan, yes.”
“So we’ll all just be out of jobs?”
“That will be up to the new owners. Regardless, you need to pay rent or find a new place to live.”
Diane said nothing else as she walked toward the back. Josie knew she was trying to restrain her anger, probably to make Josie believe she’d changed. Nana hadn’t said a word about what would happen if her mother quit, so she wasn’t planning to go easy on her. She couldn’t fire her, but that didn’t mean she had to play nice while they worked together.
Besides, the restaurant desperately needed updates, and having a nonpaying tenant living upstairs wasn’t helpful. That space could be rented to a paying tenant or even used for a second dining room. Josie planned to make use of everything she’d learned while working in marketing, and one of those things was to think outside the box. Do different things. Be a risk-taker.
“Good morning, Josie,” Bear said as he walked into the restaurant.
“Good morning,” she said without looking up.
“Listen, I wanted to mention again that we lost a server recently. You might want to start interviewing for a new one.”
She finally made eye contact. “We have Diane—I mean, Dee Dee—and that Tabby girl.”
“Pardon me for saying so, but those two can’t handle this restaurant alone. You’ll probably need to help out until you can hire more people.”
She fake smiled. “Bear, I doubt this place gets busy enough to support three full-time servers.”
He chuckled. “Okay, whatever you say, ma’am.” He walked to the back without another word.
A few minutes later, a woman—more like a young girl—walked into the restaurant. She had platinum-blond hair pulled up in what Josie would refer to as a “cheerleader ponytail” and wore a black T-shirt with skintight light-blue jeans and white high-top sneakers.
“Excuse me, but we don’t open for another hour.”
The girl giggled. “You must be Miss Adeline’s granddaughter? I’m Tabby, one of your servers.” Her voice was like nails on a chalkboard to Josie. At least two octaves higher than it should’ve been, she sounded like she’d been sucking helium all morning.
“Oh. I see. Nice to meet you,” she said before looking back down at her paperwork. Josie had learned a long time ago not to become friendly with her coworkers. Better to have them fear her than think she was a pushover.
Tabby walked over to the hostess stand and leaned against it. “I sure loved Miss Adeline. She was the nicest lady I’ve ever met. Sorry she died.”
“Thanks,” Josie mumbled, trying to add up last month’s numbers. She didn’t like what she was seeing.
“I had a baby girl out of wedlock last year, and she threw me a baby shower.” Her high voice was only slightly more annoying than her thicker-than-molasses Southern accent. Of course, Josie was used to Southern accents. She had one herself, but this girl sounded like she was acting in the local school play.
“That’s nice,” Josie said, looking at her for a long moment. “Shouldn’t you go get your apron on and get ready to open?”
She looked back down and could feel Tabby standing there like she didn’t know what to do.
Eventually, Tabby disappeared into the back, and Josie was finally alone again. She thought about Kendra, who was back at the house, working on her virtual schoolwork. Well, she was supposed to be doing that. Who knew what she was actually doing? Josie was taking her to register for classes tomorrow, and she hoped that her daughter would finally get it together.
Moving to Happy Harbor on a whim was stressful already. Josie had spent most of yesterday on the phone with movers back in Atlanta, as well as storage unit facilities. Thank goodness her one friend, Melody, had agreed to help organize the move. Most of Josie’s big items would go to storage, since Nana’s house was fully furnished. Only her clothing and important items would be sent with the movers. A small truck would suffice, but it was still expensive. Yet another reason to have her mother pay rent. Well, that and just downright pettiness. She was never above pettiness.
Josie heard the door from upstairs open, and Diane stomped down the side staircase. She hadn’t even noticed her going up there. Diane walked directly over to her daughter and counted out four hundred dollars in cash on the wooden counter in front of her.
“What’s this?”
“Your precious rent.” Diane turned and walked toward the kitchen.
“I said you could give it to me next week.”
She turned back around. “I don’t want any special treatment. If I owe rent, then I’ll pay it. I honor my debts.”
Without another word, Diane walked into the kitchen, and Josie rolled her eyes. Why did drama follow her everywhere?
Diane ran across the kitchen, tossing some used plates into the large stainless steel sink. She’d spent all day long running around like a headless chicken while her daughter stood behind the hostess stand, plastering on a fake smile as customers descended upon the restaurant like a bunch of hungry vultures. Did Josie help serve the customers at all? Nope. She watched as Diane and Tabby ran themselves ragged.
Bear told her that Josie didn’t seem interested in hiring another server, even though they needed one desperately. Even before Staci left, they were short-staffed. Her momma had been far too sick to deal with it, and now Diane wasn’t too hopeful her daughter was going to do anything about it either.
“Order up!” Bear called, his voice booming across the kitchen. The man was fast as lightning with the orders, which was normally a good thing since customers generally appreciated fresh food. Today, however, she needed a break, just two minutes to breathe. She had even considered hiding in the walk-in freezer, but there was no time.
Her sponsor had often told her that before she made a poor decision, she had to make a good one. In those moments she wanted to drink, she had to first think of a good decision and do that. Sometimes, she’d meditate or call a sober friend. Sometimes, she’d take a walk or dance around in her room to her favorite music from the seventies.
Today, there was no time. The lunch rush was killing her, and Tabby was little help. She was sweet but slower than molasses running uphill in January.
“Got it!” she yelled back at Bear, grabbing the catfish plate from under the warming light and pushing through the swinging doors into the dining room. She set it in front of the customer at table three, a big smile on her face. After all, she needed tips, especially now that she was being forced to pay rent.
A part of her was mad about it, but the motherly part understood. Josie needed to feel in control, and it was Diane’s fault that her daughter felt she had to control everything. Years of therapy had made her understand that.
Finally, it seemed the lunch rush was slowing down, so she wiped down table four and returned the menus to the front desk. Josie was standing there, leaning against a post, staring out the window toward the boats.
“Listen, I know Bear mentioned we need more servers . . .”
“I think we did fine,” Josie said nonchalantly.
Meanwhile, Diane felt like her heart rate was two thousand beats a minute. She was getting too old for this. “Josie, we’re killing ourselves back there. The least you could do is help us serve.”
She glared at her. “Oh, is that the least I could do?”
“You can’t bring our history into the restaurant,” she whispered. “You want to make this place more successful? Then stop fighting me just because you’re mad at me.”
“Don’t tell me what to do,” Josie whispered back.
Diane moved closer. “Josie, I want this to work for you and Kendra. Even though I hope you choose not to sell it in six months, I’d like for you to get the most out of it if you do.”
“Why do you care?” she asked, her tone almost accusatory.
“I care because I’m your mother, and even if you don’t believe me, I love you. I love Kendra too.”
“You know nothing about my daughter,” Josie growled.
“I know she loves you, and I know she’s excited about Happy Harbor and a fresh start. I also know that you want to do better than your own mother did, right?”
“Not a hard task. I can just show up in her life and do better.”
That stung, but Diane chose not to react. “Very true. Look, you can be mad at me every single day for six months. Cuss me out in your head every night after work. Make a voodoo doll of your alcoholic mother. Whatever you need to do. Just please do what’s best for this restaurant because people are counting on you, like Bear and Tabby.”
“Tabby seems to be less than stellar. Three times today she has brought water to people who ordered waffles, or waffles to people who ordered water. I asked her why, and she said she just writes the letter W on her notepad.”
Diane chuckled. “Well, she isn’t the sharpest knife in the drawer, but she’s a sweet girl and a new mother. You remember what that felt like, right?”
Josie sighed. “I guess so.”
“We need at least one more server here, and I know we have the budget for that. Let me help you grow this restaurant so you can sell it and never have to see me again.” Maybe a little reverse psychology would help. If there was one thing she knew about her daughter, it was that she would never admit when she was wrong. Everything needed to appear to be her idea, or she wouldn’t go for it. By offering to help her get out of Happy Harbor in six months, Diane felt she had the best chance of calming her down and getting her on the right track when it came to running the restaurant.
Josie pulled some of the menus from below the hostess stand and stacked them in front of her, wiping each one with an antibacterial cloth.
“Fine. Put an ad in the paper or whatever y’all do around here. One more server, and that’s it. Let me know when you have people for me to interview.”
Diane hadn’t been offering to do all that work, but she would if it meant keeping Josie and Kendra in town. She needed a chance to prove to her daughter that she had changed and could be her mother again. All she needed was time.
CHAPTER TEN
Kendra stood in front of the high school and stared at it for what seemed like minutes. “This is it?”
“This is it.”
“How many kids go here?”
Her mother shrugged her shoulders. “Maybe a quarter of how many went to your high school back in Atlanta.”
She’d never seen such a small school. Back home, her high school was two stories with a basement and twenty freestanding trailers, and they were still bursting at the seams. They had a baseball field, a football field, and a fine arts building too.
Happy Harbor High School was one long building, and it looked like it was built before God was born. There was a small stadium, no trailers, and wooden fencing around part of the campus.
“What are the fences for?”
Her mom laughed. “Back in the early days, it was to keep out livestock from the local farm.”
“There are farms here?” she asked, her eyes wide.
“Not anymore, but back then there were. The cows liked to roam.”
Kendra was wondering if this whole thing was a good idea. She didn’t fit in at school in Atlanta, but would she fit in here? She wasn’t exactly a small-town girl. Sometimes, she felt as if she didn’t fit in anywhere, like nobody really wanted to be friends with her because she didn’t fit the mold.
Her mother walked toward the school, and Kendra followed, anxious about how her first day would go. As they entered, she was surprised at just how antiquated the school looked with its pale-yellow, concrete block walls and peeling tile floor. It smelled musty, like the old library she used to go to in Atlanta. It was the best place to make out with a boy and not get caught.
As soon as they entered the large lobby, her mom turned left toward a door that said Main Office. Inside were a few chairs and a long reception desk with dark wood and a little bell. Josie nodded toward it, and Kendra rang it before sitting down.
A few moments later, a smiling woman, who was as big around as she was tall, came from the back hallway. “Good mornin’, folks. How can I help you?” She was grinning like she’d won the lottery. Kendra would never understand morning people. Nothing good happened before ten a.m.
“Good morning. I need to enroll my daughter as a new student.”
She nodded like she was remembering something. “Ah, yes. You called yesterday, right?”
Her mother nodded. “Right. This is Kendra.”
Kendra forced a smile. She really wanted to go back to bed. This was one of her problems with school—it all happened in the morning when she was less than personable.
“Hey.”
“You’re a junior, Kendra? Is that right?”
“Yes.”
Her mother elbowed her. “Yes, ma’am,” she whispered.
“What?” Kendra whispered back. Never once had she made her daughter say ma’am.
“They say ma’am and sir here. Get used to it,” she responded through gritted teeth.
The woman, whose name tag said Elma McAvoy, looked down at a stack of paperwork. “We were able to contact her previous school for her records . . .” Her voice trailed off, as if she was trying to avoid saying something.
“And?”
Elma looked up and smiled sadly. “It seems Kendra had some issues at her old school?”
Her mother sighed. “She did, and that’s one reason we moved back home. You see, I grew up in Happy Harbor. In fact, I went to this high school.” She pasted a smile on her face and tilted her head, sounding as if she was reminiscing.
