Page 29 of Happy Harbor
She looked at her. “People never change. You are who you are. At some point, that ugly monster will always rear its head.”
“Being in AA has taught me I can change. Anyone can change with help from God and hard work. Even you can change.”
Josie leaned against the counter. “Oh, you think I need to change, huh? Not you, the alcoholic mother who abandoned her own daughter time and time again?”
“I’ve tried to apologize a million times for that, and you know it! I sent you birthday cards for years, tried to call, even sent emails. You turned me away every single time.”
“For good reason, don’t you think? I never wanted to see your face again, and yet here you are. How you managed to manipulate your own mother is beyond me. Nana must’ve been losing her sanity to let you back in here.”
Diane stepped forward, her finger in Josie’s face. “I will not listen to you talk that way about my mother. Do you understand me?”
Josie smirked. “Be careful. Your monster is showing.”
Stepping back, Diane sighed. “My mother and I had a wonderful relationship the last few years. I was her primary caregiver, and we healed all the old wounds. In fact, we even went to therapy a few times.”
Josie’s insides twisted. How was any of this possible? Why did her grandmother keep it a secret? She felt so betrayed.
“I don’t care what went on between you and Nana. She had the right to do whatever she wanted, but that doesn’t mean I have to be forced into a relationship with you. I don’t want you here.”
“Well, you don’t get that choice.”
“Excuse me?”
“Your nana wanted us to work together for six months. She had that in her will.”
Josie glared at her. “And I suppose you encouraged her to do that. It’s just like you! So manipulative!”
“Actually, I begged hernotto do it. I don’t want this any more than you do.”
Josie felt nauseated. “Just like always. You don’t want me. Why should I be surprised?”
Diane walked closer, her eyes tearing up. “I have always wanted you. Always. And I want to be your mother. I just didn’t want you to feel forced into a corner.”
“You could quit,” Josie said, not looking at her.
“If I quit, I would be going back on my promise to my mother.”
“What promise?”
“To try to heal things with you. She lived with worry over whether both of us would end up alone in the world.”
“I have my daughter, and I’m actually close to her.”
“Then maybe she was afraid I’d end up alone. Look, I don’t know, Josie. But I love my job here, I’m good at it, and nobody knows this restaurant as well as I do. I can help you get this place up and running. Six months will pass before we know it.”
Josie walked toward the door and turned around to face Diane. “No. If me running this place means working with you, then I quit. You can run it.” She opened the door and walked out onto the Riverwalk.
“That’s not what your nana wanted!” Diane called behind her, following her outside.
“Nana betrayed me! She was talking to you all along and never told me anything about it. I’m going back to Atlanta!”
Before Diane could say anything else, Josie jogged away. She managed to get out of sight before bursting into tears.
* * *
Kendra let her feet dangle from the swing. She’d always wanted one of those big tree swings, and now she had one. Her dream as a little girl had been to have her father living with them—if he’d been a remotely good guy—and to help him build a tree house and hang a swing. Even though she was almost an adult herself now, she still thought about him and what could’ve been if he’d been a good person. If he hadn’t abandoned them both before she was born.
Her mother had gotten pregnant when she was just a year older than Kendra. Then, she’d taken off for Atlanta, hopeful that she could start a better life for the both of them. For the most part, she’d done just that, but Kendra remembered how tough those early years were. Why her mother hadn’t gone back to Happy Harbor to raise her with Nana was beyond her. It sure would’ve been easier than jumping from rented room to rented room for months on end. Or working three jobs. But that’s what Josie had done. She’d worked and gone without food more times than Kendra could count just to make sure her daughter was okay.
