Josie

by Beth Gildersleeve

  “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Josie threw her head back and stared at the ceiling. She looked back at Elle. “See? I’m crazy. I know you’d never cheat on Josh. This business stuff messes with my head.”

  “If you don’t like it, why are you doing it?” Elle asked.

  “There are lots of pieces I like, you know that. And I hired you to handle the stuff I don’t. It’s just that, I don’t know, lately I’ve been wondering if we really can have it all.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Can we have a successful career or business, a loving and fulfilling partnership, children, and ten minutes to ourselves a day, or is it all a myth? Are we like those mice, running like mad on a wheel wanting to get to the other side of the cage, but it’s not gonna happen? Are we deluding ourselves? Reaching for something unobtainable?”

  “Wow, you start hanging out in the western suburbs and you get all philosophical on us,” Elle joked. Josie didn’t laugh. “I think I know what you mean, though. I’ve had similar thoughts, too. Don’t get me wrong, I love your brother, but marriage is a lot harder than I thought it would be. It’s tough to balance everything and we don’t even have kids, yet. Just Bitty. “

  “Best dog ever,” both women said in unison and smiled. It was a familiar saying between Josie, Josh, and Elle, and really, Bitty deserved it. That little rescue dog had come a long way and had captured all of their hearts.

  “But to answer your question, I think we can have it all, just not all at the same time.” Elle leaned her hip against the table.

  “Are you and Josh happy here? At Jo’s Joe?” Josie asked as she picked up her tea.

  “Yes, but…” Elle cocked her head and crossed her arms over her chest. Josie felt a lecture coming on. “Josie, we’d be really pissed if you kept this business because of us.”

  “Why?”

  “First off, it’s insulting. It’s like you think no one else would hire us, which is wrong since we’re both regularly called by recruiters. And second, we want you to be happy. And if you can be happier without the business, then sell it. We’ll be okay.”

  “I know you would. You and Josh are survivors.”

  “Puh-lease. We’d do better than survive. We’d thrive,” Elle said with a cocky grin. “Are we good?” Elle sounded nervous, as if she’d offended Josie or hurt her feelings.

  “Puh-lease. We’re better than good. We’re great,” Josie tossed back at her. “But what would people say?” she asked softly.

  “About us being great or you selling the business?” Elle teased. This was quite the role reversal. Usually Josie was the one teasing Elle out of a gloom-and-doom mood.

  “Selling. Isn’t it like giving up? I’d have to turn in my feminist card.”

  “What would selling the business have to do with feminism? Wouldn’t that support it? You have the right to own or sell a business just like any man.”

  “Yes, but I’d be trading it for apron strings. Isn’t that what our grandmothers fought against?”

  “I think they fought for the option. That we deserve the same opportunities men have.” Josie’s shoulder shrug was noncommittal. What Elle said made sense, but she was still confused. Society seemed to support and advocate for working women. Not stay-at-home women raising the next generation. “And, Josie, you love apron strings. Don’t let what people may say influence you. Follow your heart.” Josie nodded her head.

  “Thanks, Elle. You’ve given me food for thought. You don’t need to babysit me anymore. I’m feeling better.” Liar, liar, pants on fire, she thought.

  “Sure you are,” Elle said as she shook her head in disbelief.

  “I said better not fine,” Josie said in her defense. “How about you make me another cup of tea, and I’ll sip it while I catch up on my email and dig through my inbox? By the time I’m done I should be one hundred percent fine.”

  “Deal,” Elle said as she stood. Josie watched her walk out of the room. She pulled her laptop out of her satchel and booted it up. It was an older model. Josie liked to give it plenty of time to stretch and limber up before she made it work.

  Elle and Josh had given up on convincing her to get a new one. Gabe had also suggested it. When she’d declined, he’d set his most recent castoff in her Jeep with a note to “take it for a ride and see how it goes.” The only ride she’d taken it for had been a few games of spider solitaire. The laptop had won so she’d stuffed it in her gym bag as punishment. So, in the end, she’d really won the battle.

  What they didn’t understand was how much security her antiquated laptop gave her. Maybe if her television had been old, her ex-boyfriend, Pete, wouldn’t have helped himself to it and a bunch of the cash she’d kept hidden in her freezer. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me, Josie thought as she logged into her remote server.

  But with this old thing? No one would want to steal it. It was safe. She was safe. Josie didn’t need a lot of bells and whistles or memory and speed. She only needed to get to the Internet. Once there she could access all of her files. Everything was password protected. Everything was safe.

  She grabbed the papers and mail in her inbox and then sorted them into piles: to do now, to do soon, to delegate, to toss, and too late. It helped that Elle sorted the mail each day and tossed the junk mail as she flipped through it. She caught anything urgent. If Elle had a comment or thought on any of it, she jotted it on a Post-it Note and slapped it front and center on the document. It saved them both a lot of time.

  Elle slipped in with the tea and left it by Josie’s elbow. She thanked Elle, who reminded her not to stay too late and to eat a decent dinner. “Yes, Mom,” Josie said as she rolled her eyes.

  “Brat,” Elle mumbled as she walked out of the room. Josie spent the next hour wading through her physical inbox and her electronic one. “Ugh, this is what I hate about owning a business,” she said as looked at the remaining pile. “I’m never done. There’s always something that needs doing. Maybe I should take Miller up on his offer?” Josie sat back stunned. It felt as if everything had clicked into place. “Huh, maybe I should.” Josie grabbed her phone and called Fortress Advisers.

  After chatting with Wren and setting an appointment with Miller for the following week, Josie returned to her piles. Even with energetic music pumping through her headphones, it was like a forced march to get to the bottom of the inboxes. And, of course, a few more emails had arrived before she had the chance to shut off her laptop. She used the app on her phone to start her Jeep so it would be warm by the time she finished the last of the emails. A few minutes later, she shut down her laptop, stowed it in her satchel, and shrugged into her coat.

  “Done,” she announced to the room as she stood up. She slapped her palms on the table for balance. “Note to self, don’t stand up so fast.” Josie looked at her watch. “And grab some food, since you’re going to be stuck in rush hour.” She helped herself to a banana and a slice of fruit cake, her number one selling dessert during the holiday season, and locked the office.

  The fruit cake was her grandmother’s recipe, one of the few that Michael hadn’t stolen from her and passed off as his own. He’d read the ingredients and the instructions and had proclaimed it a costly disaster. Lucky for me he was a bonehead, she scoffed. Not only was it a best seller, but it was also one of her most profitable items.

  She inhaled her snack as she drove toward the freeway, along with everyone else in Haven, it seemed. Josie didn’t know what was causing the mass exodus until she reached the high school. The reader board announced a joint winter concert that evening featuring the band, orchestra, and choirs. “Yikes, those poor parents. Isn’t there enough suffering in the world already?” she said as she tuned her radio to the local Christmas station. Burl Ives, Bing Crosby, Elvis, the Jackson Five, and all the other traditional classics kept her company as she crawled across the Twin Cities.

  It started to snow as she reached the outskirts of St. Paul. Big, wet, fluffy flakes clung to her windshield a
nd wipers, which beat a fast staccato against the wintry onslaught. She’d teased Gabe last weekend when he’d put new wipers on both of their SUVs. Josie wasn’t laughing now. She was grateful. She spent the last half of her commute plotting ways to show Gabe exactly how grateful she was.

  This forced marriage would be so much easier if she hadn’t fallen in love with her husband. They could have lived rather separate lives, only seeing each other on the weekend, but she enjoyed his company and she genuinely liked him, too. Gabe was charming, considerate, funny, with a dry and self-deprecating sense of humor she’d always enjoyed. He was intelligent and driven. And the man sure knew how to kiss, amongst other things. King Gabriel appeared every now and then. It still bothered Josie, but she understood it better. He only showed up when Gabe was afraid, like at the board meeting or when they’d had that terrible fight about delegating. Just like her sharp tongue and excessive sass showed up when she was stressed and afraid.

  Josie relaxed her grip on the steering wheel as she waited for the estate’s gates to open. “Almost home,” she sighed with relief. Once she’d reached the western suburbs, the snow had tapered off, and by the time she’d turned into the estate’s driveway, it had almost stopped.

  This could be home, she admitted sadly. She’d rather home be in Haven, but if this is where they needed to be, she could make it work. Somehow. Although it would be nice if their relationship were equal. Josie felt like she was doing all the giving and Gabe was doing all the taking.

  In the garage, she parked her Jeep in its spot and looked back at it before entering the mudroom. The Jeep looked like an igloo with wheels. Her dad had always insisted that they brush their cars off in the driveway before parking in the garage. Otherwise, it would melt and they’d have to deal with a wet or icy garage floor all winter. Not at the Kane complex, however. Each garage stall had a floor drain for the water to run into. Plus, the garage was heated. Josie knew her igloo would be melted by morning.

  She opened the refrigerator and frowned. The leftover pizza was gone. She dragged herself onto a kitchen bar stool and pulled out her phone.

  Monday 7:10 PM

  Josie: Hi Honey. I’m home. What’s for dinner?

  Gabe: I just ate.

  Josie: You ate? Something other than my pizza?

  Gabe: I’m stuck at the office. It’s going to be a late night. Don’t wait up.

  Josie: Would have been nice to know that 2 hours ago. I could have stayed in Haven instead of enduring the commute in the heavy snow.

  Gabe: It’s snowing? Cool.

  Josie: I’m serious.

  Gabe: I need to get back to work. This will have to wait.

  Josie dropped her phone on the granite counter as if it had bitten her. Damn the man! King Gabriel was back!

  She was tired and it was partly his fault. She’d gotten used to sleeping with him and it was hard to fall asleep without him next to her.

  And then she’d had the early morning review with Cam. How she’d gotten up that early on a daily basis was a mystery to her now.

  Then Elle had confessed about meeting with Gabe about her business, and she wouldn’t tell her why. Oh, yeah, mister, we’re going to talk about that. Josie pulled a crystal wine glass from the rack.

  Plus, she didn’t feel well, and she’d driven two hours through heavy snow during rush hour only to find out he wasn’t home. And he’d eaten her pizza. It was all too much.

  Josie reached for the merlot but she saw the electrical kettle from the corner of her eye. The tea that afternoon had been comforting and it had settled her stomach. She reluctantly put the bottle back in the rack and pulled out the chamomile tea. She’d keep her promise to Elle—a hot bath, a good book, and an early night.

  14

  Tuesday, 11:05 AM

  Josie: I made it to the Oakdale store in one piece. My manager has half red and half green hair. Festive, right?

  Tuesday, 3:20 PM

  Josie: Feel like crap. Heading back to the estate now.

  Tuesday, 6:30 PM

  Gabe: Sorry. Working late. Don’t wait on dinner. Hope you’re feeling better.

  Josie: I didn’t and I’m not.

  Gabe: ?

  Josie: I ate when I got home and I still feel like crap. Going to bed soon.

  Gabe: OK. I’ll try not to wake you.

  Wednesday, 7:15 AM

  Gabe: Snowed again. Roads are slippery. Be careful.

  Josie: Awww. You sound like you might care.

  Gabe: I do plus I don’t have time to deal with an accident now ;-)

  Josie: Well, I’d hate to inconvenience you.

  Wednesday, 4:00 PM

  Josie: Do you want to grab dinner before shopping?

  Wednesday, 5:05 PM

  Josie: Gabe?

  Wednesday, 6:15 PM

  Gabe: Shopping?

  Josie: Remember? We’re finishing the Christmas shopping tonight. I’m really hungry so I’m eating now. Where and when should we meet?

  Gabe: I can’t get away. This Howm deal is killing me. Can you finish it?

  Josie: You want me to finish your shopping without you? Do you want me to wrap them too?

  Gabe: No. Take them to customer service for that.

  Unbelievable! Josie thought as she shoved her phone back in her purse. He wanted her to finish his shopping, then schlep them to customer service and wait for them to be wrapped. Or she could haul them back to Haven where all of her supplies were and wrap them there. Neither option appealed. She’d only agreed to this shopping trip because she hadn’t seen him since Sunday. She’d slept next to him but that had been the extent of their contact other than a few brief texts. This Howm deal was making their marriage suffer and killing their love life.

  She placed her dinner order with the young man behind the counter at Café Zupas, added a small side salad for good measure, and agreed when he suggested a cannoli for dessert. She paid and waited in line with the other hangry customers. The young man called her order, and Josie hurried up for her tray. The small open table she’d spotted earlier was still available, and she made a beeline for it.

  Josie sat and pulled up the remaining gift list from her phone. I could shop in Haven instead of the mall. She took a bite of her oversized, overpriced food-court pepperoni pizza and moaned in appreciation. Food court food had definitely improved in the last decade. She was already at the mall so she could finish the shopping tonight. But everything on the list seemed so generic. So impersonal. Style with no substance. Kind of like my husband, she thought snarkily. She stopped mid-bite.

  Was that true? Is that what she really thought of him? No, not all the time. Just lately, she admitted. I’m jealous of a business deal. He’d promised that once they finished this deal with Howm, he’d work on delegating and he’d be home more.

  But they still hadn’t decided where home would be. Josie was tired of commuting. Gabe could work just as well from Haven as she did from the estate. Why does it always have to be his way? The Gabriel Kane show? She wrapped the cannoli in a napkin and stuck it in her purse. Josie made a halfhearted effort to eat her salad, but she’d lost her appetite. She picked up her tray and walked toward the garbage can.

  She wandered through the mall empty-handed, hoping the Christmas cheer would shake her out of her funk, but it didn’t. It made it worse. Everyone was happy and jolly but her. By the time she reached the parking lot, she was beyond reason.

  Yes, she knew this business negotiation was important for Gabe, Witz Holdings, and the employees of Howm Industries. Especially for them. If the two sides couldn’t come to an agreement, then the plant in Bloomington would close. Not only that plant, but Howm had several others scattered throughout the Midwest. She’d married Gabe to keep the Haven Woodworks from closing; the least she could do was be patient for a few more days until the final meeting. Who schedules a meeting for Christmas Eve morning? she thought as she buckled her seat belt. Crazy people. That’s who.

  Speaking of crazy, whatever was going
on between Gabe and Elle had to stop. Josie didn’t care what it was, or that it was innocent and legitimate, she didn’t want her husband involved in her business. He had his own business to mind, and he could keep his paws off of hers!

  She backed out of her parking space. A car horn blared. Josie hit her brakes. She watched the minivan slowly drive behind her as her heart raced. Crap! I didn’t even see them. Josie spent several extra moments surveying the area before she finished backing up. She was mad, tired, and after the near miss, she no longer trusted herself or her instincts.

  She pulled into an empty parking spot.

  Wednesday, 7:30 PM

  Josie: Going back to Haven. I can’t do this anymore.

  Gabe sighed and pushed the carryout container to the far side of the table. Aunt Sandra believed the only way to survive the holiday season was to eat as many bland vegetables as possible, which was why they’d ordered in Chinese food for the last three nights in a row.

  They were so close to the finish line on this deal, Gabe could taste it, but every other time they’d gotten to this point in the last few weeks, something had reared its ugly head, like the underreporting of the Howm pension fund and the overreporting of the equipment value at the two Ohio plants.

  Edgar Jensen, the owner of Howm Industries, was eager to sell, but he had an overinflated opinion of the company’s value. Plus, Gabe had the impression Jensen would lock the plant’s doors and walk away if he didn’t get what he wanted. A lot like the kid with the soccer ball who leaves and takes his ball with him when he doesn’t get his way. Not the type of person you want to negotiate with.