Where the Blame Lies(31)

This morning, that dream had crashed and burned.

“Josie?” Jimmy prompted. Her mind snapped back to the detective sitting in the seat next to her. Any idea who would do that?

She shook her head, relaxing her hands on the wheel. “My cousin maybe. He’s the only one I can think of who has a reason to make me hate my life here.” Make me want to run away far and fast.

The detective didn’t say anything, but she noted that his body seemed more stiff than it’d been on the ride into town.

She pulled into her driveway and they both got out of the car. She smelled roses, and the fresh scent of the grass she’d mowed two days before. The trees swayed and the old sign at the end of the driveway for the B&B creaked quietly as it moved in the breeze. Josie took momentary strength from it all. She’d faced worse than a vindictive cousin and some old dredged-up news articles meant to shame her. She stomped toward the house. She could cry later, but damn it all, right now she had a garage sale to set up.

**********

By all measures, Josie’s garage sale was a complete failure.

Jimmy had helped her cart the things from the garage that she’d been bringing up from the basement, down from the attic, and from within the house over the past month. She’d set up tables for the smaller items and placed stickers with prices on everything. When she’d stood back, she was impressed with how it looked. Her aunt had been a pack rat, and though Josie didn’t need half of what her aunt had accumulated, many of the items she was selling were nice, and either practically new, or vintage enough to appeal to that crowd. She had a good selection and she hoped most of it would go quickly.

The day was full of sunshine but not too hot, a pleasant breeze moving the air around and with it bringing that scent of roses and cut grass. She’d had hope.

Maybe no one had seen those old articles anyway. Maybe Archie—if it had been him—had put them up long after people had seen her flyer and planned to come to the garage sale. Or maybe if people had seen the articles, they had seen the posting of them as something cruel and inappropriate. They’d come out in droves to attend her sale in a show of support.

Yes, she’d had hope. But then no one had shown up at noon, or even at twelve thirty. One rolled around and Josie’s heart sunk further. A little later, a few people showed up, and her mood had lifted slightly, but then they’d picked at a few things as they watched her from above their sunglasses, whispering to each other covertly, clearly there to gawk at her. They left without buying anything.

Jimmy sat on her porch, a pair of dark sunglasses on as he scrolled his phone. His head stayed down, but she had the notion he was watching her through his tinted shades. It only made her feel worse, embarrassed, and twitchy.

At two, she decided she’d had enough humiliation and it was time to pack it up. She’d take a load to the Salvation Army that week and consider it a win that she’d helped people worse off than her. Because, yes, they did exist, and she wasn’t so wrapped up in her own tragedy that she couldn’t acknowledge that.

She heard a car and the crunch of gravel and when a petite woman with dark red hair exited her minivan with a smile, Josie called out to her, “Sorry, I was just packing up.”

“Already?” She opened the back door of the van, lifting a toddler out and taking his small hand in hers as they approached. The woman smiled, her blue eyes dancing. “I’m Rain, short for Rainbow.” She held up her hand. “I know, you don’t need to ask. My parents were hippies long after hippies were a thing and I paid the price. My middle name is Love.” She rolled her eyes and despite her miserable morning, Josie smiled at the peppy woman with the warm smile. Rainbow. The name fit her, with her bright personality, rich mahogany hair, and vivid blue eyes. “I live down the road. I just bought the old Halloran place?”

Josie shook her head. “I’m sorry, I haven’t been here long. I’m not familiar with all the surrounding neighbors.” She knew the couple next to her and the family who lived across the way from visiting her aunt over the years. But beyond that, she hadn’t met anyone. And now she wasn’t sure she’d muster up the courage to take a walk beyond her own property and introduce herself as she’d planned to do at some point. When she’d gotten the place cleaned up.

“I’m not either. Yet. I saw your flyer for the garage sale earlier this week and looked forward to meeting you and picking up a few things for our house.” She reached down and moved a lock of flaxen hair off her toddler’s forehead. The little boy was clinging to her leg and looking up at Josie shyly. He had his mother’s bright blue eyes. Josie’s heart gave a small empty thud and then constricted tightly with longing. Her own boy would be eight now. She’d missed this stage, and there was no way to ever get it back. Grief, stronger than she’d felt in a long while, gripped her and made her knees feel weak. “I’m recently divorced, so Milo and I here are sort of starting fresh, trying to make new memories.” She put her palm over her toddler’s ear not pressed against her thigh. “My ex is a d-bag,” she whispered.

“Oh, I’m . . . sorry about that,” Josie said.

But Rain smiled and shook her head. “Don’t be. We’re better off. But um”—she looked over Josie’s shoulder at the larger things she hadn’t yet moved into the garage—“I see you have a kitchen table and chairs, which is at the top of my priority list.”