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“I ran away.”
“So you’ve said,” Johnny responded as they waited for their drinks at Mountain Brew Saturday morning. “I don’t get it. Whenever I recommended it in a training program for you, you always whined that you hated running.”
She playfully punched him in the shoulder at his attempt to lighten the mood, but even getting the big promotion at work couldn’t bring her out of the funk she’d been in for the past five days.
“Wanna know the worst part?”
“Besides the fact you got a standing O from the board after the presentation, but you’ve been walking around like someone slapped an ice cream cone out of your hand?”
“Har. Har,” she deadpanned. “The worst part is that Kevin was right. The guilt, Johnny—I feel it every time something good happens. I feel it with every holiday that passes. On random Tuesday afternoons. And I feel it when I think about how Courtney had an entire story ahead of her with the love of her life, and it ended before it even started. It shouldn’t, but the voice in my head says, ‘why should I get to be happy when she doesn’t’?”
Johnny leaned in and cupped her shoulder, his face serious, save for the tiny quiver at the corner of his mouth. “You know if your sister was here, she’d slap the crap out of you, right?”
She pushed out a watery laugh. “You’re ridiculous, you know?”
“Hey, I watched her manhandle you more than once in your backyard when we were kids.”
“And I watched you and Max have pee races out there—so what?”
Their heads snapped to the window where the sound of laughter came. Mrs. Morris stood, still chuckling, and walked toward their table. “You two crack me up.”
“How are you, Mrs. Morris?” Josie asked.
“For the zillionth time, call me Renee. And honestly, I could be better. You see, I couldn’t help but overhear your latest predicament—mostly because I was craning my neck and cupping my ear to hear you.”
“Next time, we’ll speak louder to save your neck, Renee,” Johnny sarcastically responded.
“I’d appreciate that,” she said seriously as she rubbed her neck. “Now, as for you.” She pointed at Josie. “Stop playing around. You waited what—twenty-five years—to be reunited with this man? And then you broke up with him because of a teensy-weensy lie? Sweetheart, he only told that lie to spend more time with you!” She shook her head. “And then you got mad at him when he told the truth—that you’re keeping yourself from being happy. Now, I may be a couple of Christmas lights shy of a full strand, but that makes no dang sense to me.”
Josie closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “I messed up.”
“Look at me,” Renee said, raising Josie’s face to meet hers while smooshing her cheeks. “The only thing worse than being unhappy is being the one who stands in the way of your own happiness. And that’s exactly what you’re doing, honey.”
“I disagree,” Johnny piped up. “The only thing worse than that is not letting this fine specimen accompany you to the big gala tonight,” he said, moving his hands up and down his body. “And don’t say you aren’t going, because I know youhaveto—they’re announcing you as the new event coordinator. Look, I already have a tux. And you’ve seen my moves—you’ll never find someone else in town that has moves like I do.”
Josie cringed. “That’s so true, but not in the way you think.” She and Renee laughed.
“Order up for Johnny Castle.”
“You’re kidding, right? Johnny Castle?Dirty Dancing?” Josie shook her head.
“You know my mama’s crazy for Swayze. Pick you up at six tonight?”
The jingling bells at the entrance of the shop announced the arrival of a new customer. But the mistletoe above the door was what made Josie hop out of her seat.
“Johnny, can you hold that thought? I’ve gotta go.” She pushed back her chair and the screech of metal on tile echoed through the shop.
“What are you doing?” Renee asked with a twinkle in her eye.
“I’m getting out of my own way.”
ChapterFourteen
“Is that mistletoe in your pocket, or are you just happy to see—”
“Knock it off, Johnny,” Josie interjected, as they swayed back and forth on the dance floor. “You know it is, and you also know I’m happy to see you.” After she’d left Mountain Brew, she’d had a hair-brained idea to run home, get a sprig of mistletoe from the centerpiece on her dining room table, and show up at Kevin’s house. Only, he wasn’t home. Or worse—he was and didn’t feel like answering the door. She certainly deserved that after the horrible things she’d said to him.
