Page 22 of Happy Harbor
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.
