Page 55 of When I Should’ve Stayed (Red Bridge #2)

Josie

“Please, Josie,” Norah begs, loitering near the counter while I cash out Melba.

Melba opens her purse and starts to root around in her wallet, and Norah takes that as the perfect moment to keep hounding me.

“Just come to the Halloween party with me tonight,” she says and holds her hands together like she’s praying. “It’ll be fun.”

“Honey, do you mind if I give you two dollars in dimes?” Melba asks, and I want to laugh at how predictable she always is.

Melba is notorious for having more change than anyone should have.

Grandma Rose used to gift her with coin-wrapping papers in the hopes that she’d cash some of it out at the bank.

But no, never. Melba prefers to carry around an extra five pounds of coins in her purse.

And I know I don’t even have to answer the question because it’s not an option. If Melba wants to give you a hundred dollars in pennies, you best pull up a chair and prepare yourself to watch her count out ten thousand freaking pennies.

“Here, Melba,” Norah says, stepping up to the counter. “I’ll help you count.”

Melba doesn’t hesitate to drop a handful of dimes into Norah’s hands, and my persistent sister proceeds to count the dimes while she’s on my ass about going to Earl’s Halloween party tonight.

“It’ll be fun, Jose. I mean, how often do we get to enjoy a night on the town together?” she questions, glancing up at me briefly between every few dimes she puts into a stack of ten.

“Nore, like I said the first ten times you asked me when you came in here, I’m not going.”

Every year, Earl throws a Halloween party for the whole town, and the location always changes.

He used to have it at his actual grocery store, but one year when Lance and Mikey took it upon themselves to raid the chip aisle, Earl had a conniption and never threw the party at his store again.

Now, his party flits around to various small businesses that can host a large number of people, and this year, the location is The Country Club.

“Is this because of Clay?” Norah asks, and I roll my eyes.

“No.” Maybe. Sure, since everything happened with Summer, we’ve managed to be amicable toward each other. But I still haven’t forgotten that the bastard didn’t file the divorce papers. I mean, how could you forget you’re still married to someone?

“How much was it again?” Melba questions. At this point, she has a dollar bill and five dollars’ worth of dimes stacked on the counter.

“$6.82.”

She nods and rummages in her wallet again, dumping more change out onto the counter.

“Here, Melba. Let me do that for ya.” Norah steps in again and counts out eighty-two cents for her, hoping to speed up the pace.

“Aw, you’re such a doll,” Melba says. “My arthritis has been bothering me all morning.”

Norah rubs a gentle hand on Melba’s back, and I quickly cash her out before grabbing her order of hot cinnamon tea and a cinnamon roll and carrying them around the counter. Melba tries to take them from me, but I smile toward the door. “I’ll carry them for you.”

“You girls are so sweet,” she says with a thankful smile. “Rose would be so proud to see how you’re both doing.”

I don’t know if my grandma would be happy with how I’ve handled quite a few things over the years, but for the first time in a while, I actually believe what Melba says is true.

I’m finding my rhythm, if a little wonky, and I’m even communicating with my ex-husband-who’s-not-really-my-ex on occasion without killing him.

I’ve got a niece or nephew on the way, my sister is happy and healthy and officially engaged to Bennett, my mom is actually paying for her crimes, and things are looking up.

Norah’s still waiting on the genetic bloodwork on the baby, but I’ve got a good feeling that Summer’s looking out for us on this one.

Both Norah and I walk Melba out to her car, and we don’t leave her side until she’s safely inside the driver’s seat and backing out of the parking spot. But as we turn to head inside again, Norah is back on my ass.

“So, you’re going to go with me, right?” She grabs both of my shoulders with a tight squeeze. “You’re going to go with me to the party tonight?”

I shake my head.

“Oh, c’mon, Josie!” she cries out, utterly exasperated.

“I need you to go to this party. I have to. And I’d ask Bennett to come with me, but I don’t think he’s ready for that kind of stuff yet, you know?

He’d rather spend his time in his studio painting.

And he’s been working on a whole series inspired by Summer, and I refuse to pull him away from that. It’s bringing him so much peace.”

It’s been nearly two months since Summer passed away. Some days, it feels like just yesterday, and other days, it feels like a lifetime ago. But every day, her memory is still ever-present in my mind. Probably in everyone’s mind.

“I get that, Nore. I really do. And I’m so happy that Bennett has found something that’s bringing him peace, but I’m not really understanding why you want to go to this party so bad?

” I question. “I mean, you’re pregnant, you can’t drink, and I know with certainty that your morning sickness times are never in the morning.

They’re always in the evening…when we’d be at this party.

Don’t you think you should just skip this year?

” I suggest. “Earl throws a Halloween party every year. You can go next year or the year after that or the year after that.”

A sheen of tears covers her eyes, and my eyebrows draw together. Is she just pregnant and hormonal, or have I completely missed the boat?

“I have to go, Josie,” Norah says, and one lone tear slips down her cheeks. “And it’s just a little too hard for me to go by myself… This party was on Summer’s list. She wanted to go. She just didn’t…”

She doesn’t even have to finish the sentence. Summer didn’t make it to Halloween.

I shut my eyes for a long moment. A small, selfish part of me is pissed off that I’m being dragged into this.

I mean, it’s not like the fake wedding we created for Summer to attend ended all that well for yours truly.

But the biggest part of me, the part that loved that little girl, can’t deny this request.

“Fine,” I mutter, my voice still frustrated but my heart soaring with grief and solace. “I’ll go.”

“Thank you!” Norah exclaims and brushes her tears away with a quick hand before diving toward me and wrapping me up in a big hug. “Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! You’re the best sister in the whole wide world! I love you! I love you! I love you!”

“Yeah. Yeah. I know. I’m the best.” I hug her back, but I also cut the hug short because I’m the only one working at CAFFEINE right now. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to get back to work.”

“And don’t worry. I’ll handle getting us some costumes,” Norah says over her shoulder as she starts to walk down the sidewalk.

“I’m not wearing a costume!” I shout toward her, but she just raises one hand in the air.

“It’s a Halloween party, Jose! You gotta!”

One thing is for certain. She might’ve convinced me to go to the party, but she can shove the costumes up her ass. Josie Ellis will be going to Earl’s party as Josie Ellis, and that’s that.

…

“I love that we decided to go with a Disney Princess theme,” Norah says as we get out of my SUV and walk toward The Country Club.

“I didn’t decide shit,” I mutter and sling my purse over my shoulder. “I was forced into this costume.”

“I didn’t force you,” she says through a snort, and I glare at her.

“Norah, you brought a bag of fifteen different costumes you got from Darlene’s shop, and when I told you I wasn’t wearing one, you sobbed…and sobbed…and sobbed.” Not even kidding. She lost her shit.

“Maybe I was a little dramatic.”

“A little?” I laugh. “In a matter of seconds, you went from smiling to the fetal position.”

“Must be the hormones.” She shrugs and runs one affectionate hand over where her pink Princess Aurora costume covers the small roundness of her belly. Norah is nearing the end of her first trimester, just over eleven weeks, but she is starting to show a little bit.

“Goodness, this is going to be a long pregnancy,” I mutter, and she just laughs and locks her arm with mine.

“C’mon, Snow White, how about we go inside and get this party started?”

“Pretty sure I don’t have a choice.”

“No, you don’t.” She flashes a grin at me. “But you do have a choice on whether you get some wine to help you survive this night.”

Okay. Yeah. If some wine is involved, I guess I can handle hanging out at my should-be-my-ex-husband-but-isn’t-my-ex-husband’s bar. Fingers crossed he’s too busy bartending to even notice.