Serving Trouble(41)
“Let’s go, Dad. Before the dinner hour is up,” she said, hoping she could keep his mind off Dominic for a little while. Her brother would be fine. He had to be OK. If he wasn’t . . . how much loss could one person take?
Chapter Sixteen
“I HEAR YOU’RE a local hero.”
Josie dropped her breadstick and looked up at her dad. Hero? Her? She glanced around the mostly empty mediocre Italian restaurant, the only establishment aside from The Three Sisters that didn’t cater to the university students.
“For bringing in that special beer?” her father added, his brow furrowed as if he was trying to focus on small talk instead of thinking about Dominic.
She let out a laugh. “That’s right. I’m the local beer hero.”
“Glad you’re putting that marketing degree to good use,” he said, reaching for his water.
“I didn’t finish my degree, Dad.”
The waitress arrived and took their orders. Josie took her time ordering a house salad and personal pizza, hoping her father would drop the subject of school.
“You could always go back,” her dad said as the waitress walked away.
“I could,” she admitted. But first I have to pay seventy thousand dollars in medical expenses I never told you about. . .
“Or take classes at the community college to finish up your degree. That way you could live at home.”
“And you could keep an eye on me?” she said, reaching for her water.
The town’s chief of police offered a rare smile. “I like having you home, Josie. You still haven’t told me why you came back, but I’m glad you did.”
“Me too, Dad.”
“And I wouldn’t mind some help with the mowing,” her dad added gruffly. “Maybe you could do some work in the old vegetable garden. It hasn’t been weeded much since you ran off to college.”
But Dominic was the gardener.
No, she couldn’t say his name. Not right now.
“I can try, Dad. But if the tomatoes go on strike like they did the last time you put me in charge, well, remember you asked for my ‘help.’ ”
Her father leaned his head back and laughed. “I’ll tackle the tomatoes if you handle the beans. I never liked them much anyway.”
She smiled as the waitress set down their salads. “Deal.”
Maybe she could salvage this relationship. After everything she’d been through, maybe she could find a place here, at home.
BY MIDNIGHT, DINNER with her father felt like a distant memory. Big Buck’s didn’t have a DJ on Sunday nights, but the place had filled up with patrons hoping for a pint of Hoppy Heaven. Josie had served up a tray full of disappointment all night long. The tips were dismal.
The local beer hero, my ass.
She set two bottles of light beer in front of the dudes in the corner booth and walked away before they could complain about the empty keg. She didn’t want to hear about how she’d let them down when it came to their drink of choice. She stomped back to the bar to pick up the next round.
Who wanted to claim the “beer hero” title anyway? It didn’t have the same ring as Noah’s claim to fame. “Football star” or “veteran warrior”—those labels deserved respect. Noah had done something brave, something to be proud of—he’d served.
But apart from the deal with the brewery, what had she accomplished? She’d survived the loss of a child she wasn’t supposed to have in the first place. She’d lived through asshole boyfriends and grief.
No, it was better to stick with her Hoppy Heaven claim to local fame. Everything else she’d “accomplished” stemmed from bad decisions.
Joining the army, the marines—those were solid, good choices.
Selfless.
Brave.
Although it hadn’t exactly worked out that way for Caroline. She’d survived her own assholes and grief.
At least the jerks from my past haven’t driven me to carry a gun.
Josie stopped in the middle of the crowded bar. People moved around her, talking and drinking. Was that the upside here? She’d come so far, pulling herself out of a grief that threatened to eat her alive, and the only bright side was that she didn’t have to carry a weapon?
“The cows are home for the night, folks,” Noah announced, his voice cutting through the crowd.
“Hey, what about last call?” one of the dudes in the booth called.
“Finish up what you have and head out,” Noah said, his gaze landing on Josie. “We’re done for the night.”
She lowered her chin and focused on her worn Converse sneakers. He was jumping to her rescue. Had he caught the college kids staring at her as if she’d broken their hearts by not having their favorite beer available tonight? Or had he heard from Dominic? Maybe Ryan had responded with bad news?