Page 38 of Happy Harbor
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 wasactuallydoing? 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.
