Page 72 of Happy Harbor
“Both great ideas. I also think it’d be good to keep the restaurant open and maybe have some specials. Perhaps even have a trivia challenge people can pay to enter? Just shooting out ideas here.”
“Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“Why are you helping me like this?”
Walker smiled. “Because that’s what people do around here, Josie. I loved your grandmother like she was my own blood. She was good to me, so I’m going to be good to her granddaughter no matter how much she distrusts me.”
“I don’t distrust you. Not totally.”
“You don’t trust anybody, Josie, and I can see why. Sort of. But if you want to save the restaurant, it’s time to step out there and trust the people of this town to have your back.”
“I’m trying. I really am. It’s hard to believe a bunch of strangers care enough to help me get out of this mess.” For a moment, she flashed back to her dinner with Craig after she lost her job. He hadn’t been supportive at all, but here was Walker, doing everything he could to help her. They weren’t even dating, and already he was more supportive than Craig had been throughout most of their relationship.
“They cared about Adeline. Now let them care about you too.”
“Can I ask you something else?”
He sighed and then laughed. “Sure.”
“Are you going to feed me dinner or just force me to sit here smelling that pot of chicken and dumplings?”
* * *
Josie stood on the front porch, craning her head as she looked down the street. This was the day she’d been dreading since arriving in Happy Harbor. It would only last for two days, thankfully. Primmy had negotiated with her to only have tours for those two days and then be done for a few months.
She saw the small shuttle bus coming down her street and drew in a deep breath. As she blew it out slowly, the vehicle came to a stop in front of her gate.
“Good morning, Josie!” Primmy called, her Southern drawl thicker than molasses.
“Good morning,” Josie said, a fake smile plastered on her face. She counted eight women as they climbed out of the shuttle. “Welcome to my family’s home.”
Primmy immediately interrupted. “This is Josie Campbell, the great-great-granddaughter of Franklin Durham Carter, the original owner. The home was built in 1886, and Mr. Carter served as the town’s mayor during the late 1800s. He was very well loved, as was his granddaughter, Adeline Campbell, who recently passed.”
“That about covers it,” Josie said, under her breath. Last she heard, Primmy had wanted her to say that part. Instead, she was just standing there like an idiot with nothing to say.
“Before we go inside to see this lovely home, I do have something to say that is rather distressing,” Primmy told the captivated crowd. “Later today I’ll be taking you to lunch at Campbell’s Café, which is this town’s prized historic restaurant. However, Campbell’s is now at risk of closing because of a financial hardship. As I mentioned, poor Adeline Campbell recently succumbed to some health problems, and Josie here is trying to save the business. I know y’all would never want to see a gem of the community close down.” There were audible gasps in the small group of women, one woman holding her hand over her mouth. Josie had to give it to Primmy. She was a talented public speaker.
“What can we do?” one woman asked, as if on cue.
“I’m so happy you asked, Lita. I know how generous you are. We’re taking donations today to go toward saving our beloved restaurant. Anyone willing to give will get a free ticket for a tour of the mayor’s home!” Again, there were gasps in the crowd.
“Thank you, everyone. There are donation boxes in the house,” Josie said, smiling for real this time.
As the tour passed by her and went into the house, she smiled to herself. People really wanted to help, and she was grateful, if not confused. As a kid, she’d never paid attention to the kindness of the people of Happy Harbor. They were all just old fuddy-duddies to her. Now, they were her allies and the people she needed to depend on to save the restaurant.
Everybody around her seemed to be rallying, so she supposed it was her turn to get involved and actively work to save her family’s legacy.
* * *
Scotty’s eyes widened. “So, she paid him off?”
“We think so,” Kendra said. “That’s why she borrowed the money, at least.”
He took a bite of his sandwich as they sat on the stage. Sitting in the theater for lunch had become “their thing.” Sometimes they sat at a table with their group of friends, but other times—like today—they sat on the edge of the stage with their legs dangling over the side.
“That’s horrible. I hope everybody can donate enough money to save the restaurant. I love that place.”
