Page 61 of When I Should’ve Stayed (Red Bridge #2)
Josie
Easter in Red Bridge is a whole thing.
Almost everyone goes to Sunday service to pray and listen to Reverend Bob’s sermon, and then the city council hides a bunch of eggs throughout the square for all the kids to find.
Mayor Wallace dresses up like the Easter Bunny.
Harold sets out a table of bagels and fruit and cookies and juice for the kids.
Melba used to take on that task—and when Grandma Rose was alive, she’d always be right there helping her—but after Melba’s arthritis started to get bad, Harold didn’t hesitate to take over.
I open CAFFEINE and serve free coffee and tea for anyone who comes in, and the whole town pitches in to make it special for the kids.
When I step into my shop, I see that both Todd and Camille have worked hard to get several pots of coffee brewed and have already set up a tea station, hot water ready and waiting in my large stainless-steel dispenser.
“You guys did good,” I tell them, and Camille gives Todd a side-eye.
“Don’t you dare look at me like that,” Todd says with a roll of his eyes. “It wasn’t my fault. That’s the first time I’ve ever used that stupid dispenser.”
Camille looks at me. “He almost burned me alive with that thing!”
“I’ve said I was sorry like a thousand times!” Todd chimes in.
“Yeah, well, it’s hard to accept an apology when my life flashed before my eyes!” Camille claps back. “I’m lucky to be alive!”
Todd rolls his eyes. “Don’t be so dramatic.”
“Fine,” Camille retorts. “I’m lucky I’m not currently being admitted to a burn unit!”
My head bounces back and forth between the two of them like a ping-pong ball, trying to keep up with their bickering.
“Okay.” Todd frowns. “Yeah, that’s probably valid, but my intentions were not to almost spill two gallons of hot water on you. I swear.”
Camille inhales a deep breath through her nose. Todd keeps frowning. And I decide it’s high time for me to step into the fray.
“How about the two of you go enjoy Easter with your families, and I’ll stay here for the egg hunt?
” When neither of them responds and Camille crosses her arms over her chest and huffs out a breath, I decide that gentle parenting is not the way to go right now.
“Go home,” I demand. “Go home. Cool off. And maybe, you know, remember that Jesus loves you, but he’d be ashamed right now. He’s risen today, for Pete’s sake.”
“You’re kicking us out?” Camille questions with a furrowed brow.
“Yep.” I nod and point toward the door. “And don’t come back until you’ve both hugged it out and made up.”
“Josie, I can’t miss my shifts this week. My rent’s almost due,” Camille says.
“Then, I guess the two of you better work this out before tomorrow morning,” I answer, my shoulder shrug nonchalant.
Camille huffs out another breath, looks back and forth between Todd and me, before finally dropping her arms to her sides and saying, “Fine. You’re forgiven.”
“Yeah?” Todd asks, his sad puppy dog eyes still intact.
“Yeah.” Camille nods, steps toward him, and gives him an awkward hug with a hearty pat on the back. “Just don’t try to kill me again, okay?”
“Okay.” Todd grins, but when they both start to take off their aprons and grab their shit from behind the counter, it’s my turn to frown.
“Hey, you guys don’t have to leave now,” I say, but Camille is already walking straight for the door.
“Just following the boss’s orders!” she calls over her shoulder on a laugh. “See you tomorrow, Josie!”
Is it me, or did I just get manipulated by my own staff to give them the rest of the day off?
“Oh, by the way,” Todd exclaims, stopping right at the threshold of the door. “Clay Harris was in here doing something when all the drama went down. He told us to tell you something, but I can’t for the life of me remember what. Me and Cam were too busy in the back.”
“Huh?”
“Just ask him when you see him, Josie!” Camille chimes in and grabs Todd’s arm, dragging him right through the door. The bell chimes, and the door clicks shut before I can question them.
Clay was in here doing something? What does that even mean?
Is it just me, or are my employees not only manipulators but they’re kind of clueless assholes, too?
I stand there for a long moment, staring out the window at them as they cross the street. I’m half tempted to call them, text them, pull the boss card and make them come back, but that’s never been my style.
And when a very pregnant Norah comes waddling through the front door, I decide to leave the interrogation until tomorrow morning when they’re here for their morning shift.
“What are you doing here?” I ask her, my head tilted to the side in confusion. “I thought you were helping with the egg hunt in the square.”
“I am helping with it. Clay told me to come in here.”
“What?” I question. “What do you mean, he told you to come in here?”
“He told me the—”
Before she can even finish her sentence, the bell chimes above the door, and a mad rush of small kids come barreling through with Easter baskets in their hands.
They’re screaming and shouting and laughing and zipping around my shop with an intensity I’ve only seen on the faces of Olympic athletes going for gold.
“Norah! What is going on?” I shout over the noise at my sister, who has now relocated herself to a safe spot behind the counter with me.
But she doesn’t even answer because the next thing I hear is, “Found one!”
“Yay! I got a yellow one!”
“I got a pink one!”
And when I start to look around my shop, I quickly realize that these kids are doing an egg hunt in my coffee shop .
It’s not long before my eyes catch sight of all the “hidden” eggs.
Beneath chairs, on top of tables, on the windowsills, on the floor—it’s a fucking wonder I didn’t see them when I walked in.
Hell, it’s a true mystery how Camille and Todd didn’t notice, but I guess they were too busy arguing over spilled hot water.
“Norah,” I say through gritted teeth, my voice still loud enough for her to hear over all the cute kids. Because hell’s bells, they are cute. I just wish they’d be cute in the square. Not giving their best impression of tornadoes inside my shop. “Who was in charge of the egg hunt this year?”
Norah looks at me with wide eyes. “I’m not sure I should tell you the answer to that.”
“You mean to tell me Clay Harris hid some of the eggs in my shop?”
“He says he hided all the eggs in here, Ms. Josie!” a little red-headed boy named Wally shouts excitedly toward me. His mouth turns up in the most adorable smile, and two dimples pop out of his cheeks.
“Yeah!” a little girl with brown pigtails agrees. “And he tolds us to give you these!” She walks right up toward me and pulls a yellow rose from her basket.
And she’s not the only one. Every single kid hands me a yellow rose, and by the end, I have to start handing some of the flowers off to Norah.
“I think Mr. Clay loves you, Ms. Josie!” one of the kids exclaims, and then a fit of child giggles follows.
“Yeah, Ms. Josie! I think Mr. Clay wants to kiss you!”
More giggles ensue, and when I look out the windows of CAFFEINE, there he is, Clay Harris, standing on the sidewalk with a blinding smile on his face.
“He’s lucky there’re all these kids in here as witnesses,” I mutter under my breath, but Norah hears me.
“I’ll be honest, Josie, I think it’s kind of sweet…
” She pauses, and when she sees the glare I’m currently flashing at her, she lets out a sigh and raises both arms in the air.
“Fine. I think it’s horrible. A man sending all these adorable kids into your shop and making them give you pretty flowers? Gah. What a total jerk.”
“Norah, I love you, but you don’t even know the half of it when it comes to me and Clay Harris.”
“And whose fault is that?” she retorts, rubbing a hand over her round, pregnant belly.
“I think it’s time you spill the beans, Josie.
” When I don’t respond, she adds, “Are you ever going to tell me what happened between the two of you? Don’t you trust me?
I’m your sister, Josie. I love you. Let me be there for you. ”
Instantly, my heart cracks in half. I do trust my sister.
I really do. And when she first got to Red Bridge, so much had happened in her life.
Between her ex showing up, and her relationship with Bennett, and our mother and Thomas trying to ruin Bennett’s life, and losing Summer, my job as her sister was to be there to support her.
Not load her down with all my traumatic baggage.
“I do trust you, Norah. I do,” I answer, and my words are true. “And maybe someday I’ll tell you, but that time isn’t right now.”
Norah is pregnant and due at the end of next month. The last thing I want to do to a pregnant woman is make her feel anything but happy. It’s what she deserves. It’s what my future niece deserves. Nothing but happy, positive, love-filled vibes and hope for the future.
Something Clay Harris and I will never have.