Josie Day Is Coming Home (27 page)

“Whoa. No TV? That’s harsh,” TJ said.

“No, it’s not. It’s sensible. Watching less TV is
supposed to bring families together.” Jenna jiggled Emily on her lap.
“At least that’s what
Parents
magazine says.”

“Jenna’s bible,” Josie explained, smiling
affectionately at her sister. To her mother, she added, “I’d love to see
Dad’s ads, but I don’t have cable out here.”

Luke shrugged. “I mostly watch ESPN.”

“Humph. All that effort gone to waste.” Nancy
shook her head. “I’d better not tell Warren.”

A moment slipped past. Tentatively, Josie spoke up.

“What…what made Dad want to do that? The ads?”

The hopefulness in her eyes pained Luke to see. He frowned.
Josie didn’t deserve to be given the runaround this way. After everything TJ
had told him about the argument she’d had with her father, he didn’t have high
expectations.

Remarkably, Josie still seemed to.

“Mom?” she prompted. “Was this your idea? Did
you make Dad place those ads?”

Nancy scoffed. “I can’t ‘make’ your father do
anything.”

Both sisters snorted.

“Yeah,
right
. Tell us another one,” Jenna
said.

“Fine.” Tilting her chin, Nancy went on. “The
truth is, your father just did it. He didn’t ask me, he didn’t tell me. I
didn’t even find out what he was up to until I saw one of the ads myself.
Believe me, I
don’t
enjoy being kept out of the loop.”

Now it was Josie’s and Jenna’s turn to smile.

“When I asked him about it, he said something strange,
too.” Nancy hesitated, as though unsure whether or not to confide the rest.
Then, prodded by her daughters’ expectant faces, she relented.

“He said, ‘Whatever you do, don’t tell Josie. She’ll
yell at me about boobies again.’” Nancy looked puzzled. “Which
doesn’t even make sense. Discussing ‘boobies’ with me, his wife. Me! Humph.
Your father must have been having a break with reality when he said that.”

“I know what he meant.” Josie’s eyes shone.
“He meant I got through to him.”

“Got through to him? About what?”

“About me. At least a little bit. It’s not everything,
but it’s definitely a first step.”

Skipping across the room, Josie hugged her startled mother.
Next she hugged Jenna and Hannah and Emily in turn. She hugged Luke, squeezing
him with what he’d swear was special enthusiasm. She stepped sideways to hug
TJ, but he warded her off with both hands.

“Hang on. I don’t even understand what’s going on
here.”

“You don’t have to,” she blurted happily.
“C’mere!”

“Uhhh—” 

But Josie crushed his lanky body in her arms anyway, shaking
him from side to side with enthusiasm. Any minute now, she’d just plain pop
with happiness, Luke was sure. He’d have been thrilled to see it—if he trusted
it. But he didn’t. As far as he was concerned, fathers couldn’t be depended on.

Josie stopped, then surveyed them all with a wide grin. She
paused in the kitchen’s arched doorway, her face joyful.

“You know what this means, don’t you?”

Mutely, Luke shook his head. Given the energy radiating from
her, he was almost afraid to wonder. So was everyone else, apparently. They
remained mum.

“It means I’m going to visit my dad, for one thing! And
it means that from here on out, I’m trying harder than
ever
to start my
dance school!”

Then she chortled with glee and pounded upstairs, ready for
her next assault on Donovan’s Corner.

Chapter Sixteen

Treading across the grassy expanse of Donovan’s Corner City
Park, Josie carefully balanced a tray of a dozen cupcakes. They were part of
her contribution to the annual Founder’s Day festivities—an afternoon’s worth
of picnicking, parades, vendor booths, a 10K run, covered wagon rides, and
more. Most of the town usually attended the event, making it an ideal
opportunity to drum up business for her dance school.

Feeling proud of herself for wrangling an invitation to
participate
and
for actually producing the cupcakes she’d promised for
the bake sale fundraiser, Josie strode through the park with Luke at her side.
Her prim outfit for the day consisted of Jenna’s castoff green gingham dress,
combined with a matching headband and white Keds.

She sure hoped this getup was making the right impression.
She couldn’t be certain, since the headband cut off airflow to her brain. But
at least the shoes weren’t orthopedic look-alikes, and although the dowdy dress
hung all the way to her ankles, it did allow freedom of movement. Josie had to
keep reminding herself not to wiggle too much when she walked. Or, God forbid,
to accidentally lapse into a showgirl strut. Her nervousness made that a
distinct possibility.

All this is necessary,
she reminded herself.
It’s
necessary to convince these people you’re serious
.

Now that she was getting closer to her goals—thanks partly
to her dad’s advertising help and partly to Jenna and her friend Sophie, who’d
enrolled her twin daughters in dance classes two days ago—Josie felt more
determined than ever. But determination alone wasn’t enough to erase the memory
of Luke’s disheartening reaction to her ensemble when she’d descended the
stairs this morning.

He’d folded his arms over his chest and looked her up and
down, an expression of disappointment on his face. Then, “I don’t think
that’s really you.”

“What’s not really me?”

“This whole thing.” The sweep of his muscular arm
indicated the prim outfit she’d shoehorned herself into. “It’s crazy. It’s
not you. Where are your false eyelashes? Your ponytail hair extension,
‘Frank’?” He squinted. “Where are your
breasts
?”

Affronted, Josie clapped her hands over her chest. She
guessed her new “minimizer” bra was working. “This is my new,
serious look, remember? This
is
me.”

Although she did, she admitted silently, miss Frank. They’d
been through a lot together. And, she admitted further, she still thought her
false eyelashes were fun. Plus, this stupid new bra squashed her like an overly
enthusiastic date.

She frowned.

“It’s not you,” Luke insisted, his voice gentling.
“I know you’re determined to tackle Donovan’s Corner. Hell, I admire that!
But I don’t think changing yourself into someone else is the way to go.”

There was only one answer to that.

“The old me wasn’t working,” she said tartly, then
flounced toward the kitchen to pack up the cupcakes.

Looking at them now, Josie smiled to herself, despite her
morning’s rocky start. It had taken her six hours to bake those
chocolate-frosted goodies yesterday. Six long, floury, batter-spackled hours,
during which she’d used up all the swear words she knew and then invented new
ones.

In her frustration, she’d forbidden Luke and TJ to enter the
kitchen, for fear she’d hurl a spatula—or a cake mix box—at their heads.
Somehow understanding, they’d complied. Hanging on through singed fingertips
and a serious icing-licking high, Josie had finally emerged triumphant. Now she
had four dozen chocolate treats, of which she carried a dozen herself. Luke
chivalrously handled the additional three trays.

Josie figured she was on her way.

The baking problems hadn’t really been her fault, she
reasoned as she nodded to some townspeople, then passed beside a
fluttery-leafed stand of Aspens. She was pretty sure her new oven was
possessed. It burned things willy-nilly, spewed smoke at the oddest moments,
and had a major grudge against actually baking anything that contained butter.
Or sugar. Or, pretty much, edible molecules of any kind.

After Jenna’s painstaking lessons and the whole “baking
cookies for the Better Business Bureau” fiasco, she’d thought she’d gained
valuable experience. It turned out she hadn’t. But that didn’t matter.
Multicolored icing and sprinkles could hide a multitude of sins, if applied
creatively enough.

Showgirls
definitely
knew about creative
embellishments.

Also, Josie knew she had other things to offer besides
culinary skills—things like dancing expertise, a good heart, and a full
assortment of jokes. Speaking of which….

“Hey, Luke. Knock, knock.”

“Who’s there?”

“Twain.”

“Twain who?”

“Twains are what wabbits take twips on.”

A grin spread over his face. He chuckled. Of all her joke
recipients, Luke and Parker were the only ones who never let her down.

Josie laughed, too. There. That was better. Now she could
face the inevitable barrage of judgmental Donovan’s Corner residents with a
positive attitude.

Dodging face-painted kids and tail-wagging entrants in the
Founder’s Day Costumed Dog Show, they dropped off the cupcakes at the
appropriate booth. Luke manhandled his three trays on to a prominent corner.
Josie set down hers with utmost care, sliding it between a plastic-wrapped
platter of brownies and a towering pile of oatmeal cookies. Her cupcakes, with
their swirls of icing and generous sprinkles, definitely looked the fanciest.
She was pleased.

“I know this sounds silly,” she said as her
fingers skimmed the tray, “but I wish I didn’t have to leave them.”

Luke took one look at her downcast face and pulled out his
wallet. He glanced at the booth’s elderly attendant. “How much for the
cupcakes?”

“Fifty cents each, young man.”

“I mean for all of them. How much?”

“All of them? All four dozen?”

He nodded.

“Well, you get a discount if you buy more than
one.” She put on the eyeglasses strung on a chain around her neck and
squinted at the handwritten price sheet. “Says here they’re supposed to be
four-fifty a dozen, so that makes….”

Josie realized what he was up to and made a grab for his
open wallet. She missed.

“No, Luke.” She tried again. “I was only
kidding!”

“You want to keep them,” he said, setting his jaw.
He went on counting bills, holding his wallet too high for her to reach.
“I’m making sure you can.”

That was sweet of him. The big lummox. But she couldn’t let
Luke spend his hard-earned money on her. Especially while he was still saving
up for his secret motorcycle mechanic’s garage. When a person needed cash,
every penny counted. Josie knew that.

“Don’t you want to…save your money?” she asked.

A crooked grin. “I can afford twenty bucks.”

“Eighteen. And maybe you can’t afford it.”

“I’m not destitute. Don’t worry about it.” He
faced the attendant. “I’ll take all four dozen, please.”

“No, you won’t!”

Josie wiggled her way between Luke and the woman in the
booth, intercepting the money before it changed hands. She was a showgirl, not
a fiscal genius. But if growing up in a trailer park on the wrong side of
Donovan’s Corner had taught her anything, it had taught her the value of a
dollar. She knew what needing money could do to a person’s future.

“Stop it. I refuse to contribute to your financial
downfall.”

“‘Financial downfall’? Be serious.”

“I am. Please don’t spend your money on me.”

“Josie.” He rubbed his hand over his jaw, looking
confused. “I’m buying the damned cupcakes!”

She couldn’t believe it. He was even more stubborn than she
was. Gazing into his determined, handsome face, Josie decided there was only
one thing to do.

Make something up.

“Okay, fine. I didn’t want to tell you this,
but….” Putting on her most reluctant expression, she bit her lip. She
batted her eyelashes—a less effective move without her falsies, she had to
admit. “But the truth is, I worked really hard on those cupcakes. All that
baking, all those sprinkles. I want other people to see them, too.”

He looked puzzled. “You do?”

“Yes.”

“
And
you want to keep them.”

Helplessly, she nodded.

Luke’s expression turned savvy. “This is one of those
‘I want to see you dance naked and I
don’t
want to see you dance naked’
things, isn’t it? Girl logic. Right?”

Sure. Why not? Whatever preserved Luke’s cash flow. And his
pride.

“Right. So I don’t
really
need you to buy all
those for me, as nice at that would be. I’d only want to leave them here for
people to admire anyway.”

“You’re crazy,” Luke said. “Absolutely
crazy.”

But in his warm, husky voice,
you’re crazy
sounded a
lot like
that’s okay
. And paired with the warm, loving look in his eyes,
absolutely crazy
somehow sounded very much like
I care about you, no
matter how nuts you might be
.

Amazed, Josie smiled at him. In that moment, the whole world
narrowed to just her and Luke. He smiled back, and her heart turned over. She
didn’t know how she’d set out to help him and wound up being treated to all
these good feelings herself. But she did know that when Luke put away his
wallet, the coast was clear.

Happy in her crazy-love haze, she turned again to admire her
cupcakes. “They do look nice, don’t you think so?”

Luke nodded. Funnily enough, his attention stayed fixed on
her instead of her cupcakes. Josie gave a dreamy sigh.

“Those cupcakes look gaudy,” the attendant
volunteered, clearly growing impatient with them. “Showy. Too many
sprinkles, that’s what I say.
Way
too many sprinkles.”

The good mood between Josie and Luke fizzled.

“That doesn’t mean they won’t taste good,” she
said.

She ought to know. She’d nearly made herself queasy sampling
the leftover cupcakes that had gotten welded to the pans yesterday. Putting her
money where her mouth was, Josie dug in her purse for fifty cents and slapped
it on the counter. Then she chose the flashiest, most chocolaty, most
sprinkle-bedazzled cupcake of the lot. She set it in front of the attendant,
meeting the woman’s accusing glare with a tinfoil-bright smile.