Josie's Cupid is Dead

By Linda Cushman

After her dreams and heart have been shattered, Josie Charleston hides away from the public. The self-appointed matchmakers at her mother’s retirement center found the perfect man for Josie, but she’s positive no man would want her. When this man keeps being thrown in Josie’s path, she insists her Cupid is dead.

Try as he might, Clint Stuart can’t break through the barrier Josie has built around her heart. Should he even try when he plans to move to the west coast? Attracted by Josie’s vivacious personality, and her heart for others, Clint finds it impossible to ease her insecurities. If Cupid is dead she killed him. Can any hope of love be rekindled?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Linda Cushman
• Release date: Dec 30, 2021
• ISBN: 9780463096468

Linda Cushman

Linda Cushman and her husband live in rural Polk County, Missouri. Her greatest love is the Lord, who saved her soul and promised a home in heaven. Her children, grandchildren, and great granddaughter are the joy of her life. They have encouraged her to write stories of faith, hope, and inspiration. It is her desire that her writing will help her readers turn to God during life's troubles and trials.

Book preview

Josie’s Cupid is Dead

by

Linda Cushman

Josie’s Cupid is Dead

Copyright © 2021 by Linda Cushman All rights reserved.

ISBN: 9780463096468

No part of this publication may be reprinted without written permission from the author except as provided by US copyright law.

This novel is a work of fiction. Names and likenesses of characters are fictional and not intended to resemble any person living or dead

Josie’s Cupid is Dead

No! Not everyone. Josie Charleston groaned and jerked the cord on the mini blinds, shutting out the view of the loaded SUV pulling up her drive. Mom said she was coming to pick her up this morning, but she didn’t mention bringing three friends.

I’m not ready for this, Josie muttered. She glanced at her crowded living room, wishing she had taken time to straighten the clutter. No time now, not with Mom’s friend Betty Lou leaning on the button. The doorbell played Fer Elise non-stop. Patience was not Betty Lou’s virtue.

Coming! Josie unlocked the door and opened it a crack. Her mother stood just inches away, with the other ladies crowded behind her. Mom, I’m not up to company. I told you that last night. I’ve got my bag packed so let’s just go to your place.

Compassion and love shone from Neva Charleston’s eyes. Honey, you can’t hide away forever. You have to face the world again.

I’m doing fine. She held her foot braced against the door.

Good. Then let us in.

Josie’s chin dropped. She’d set herself a trap. Come on in then.

Mom entered and gave Josie a cautious hug. I love you, baby. Are you ready to spend a few days with me?

Yes, but please….

Betty Lou pushed in behind Neva. Josie, you look great. Betty Lou’s round face wrinkled in a huge grin.

I look like death warmed over, Josie mumbled against Betty Lou’s chest as a warm hug smothered her.

Nonsense. Betty Lou’s voice echoed in the small room. She eased Josie over, giving space for the other two ladies to enter.

Grace eyed her, then smiled. We can fix you right up, sugar. Hope you’re ready for a day out on the town.

Josie shook her head as Ruby, Mom’s quiet friend pushed her glasses up and blinked behind thick lenses. Hi, Josie. You’ve been in my prayers every day.

Thank you. She cast a suspicious glance at her mother and her friends. Please, find a seat. Everything’s crowded into this room. I guess Mom told you how the carpenters started remodeling then left town as soon as they got an advance. Just look at that huge hole they cut in the wall. She pointed to the dining nook. I’ve been afraid the squirrels would chew through that tarp and move in. She cringed. Why was she babbling? She studied each face as they stared at her. They were plotting something. What are you girls up to? What do you mean ‘a day on the town’? I’m not going anywhere except to Mom’s apartment.

Betty Lou was never one to beat around the bush. Her face beamed. We have all kinds of appointments set up. We’re having a girls’ day out.

Just because that low-life fiance of yours ran off doesn’t mean you have to stop living. He’s a loser and I hope the ba…. Grace’s gravelly voice ebbed when Ruby clamped her hands over her ears.

Sensitive. You’ll make them burn. Ruby scrunched her eyes as if a bad word might seep in.

Sorry. I get carried away. Grace fumbled in her pockets, a habit she might never break as she automatically fished for a cigarette. She’d stopped smoking months ago, but still grabbed for a smoke when things upset her.

Honey, we have beauty shop appointments at ten o’clock. Mom checked her watch.

Josie’s hands went to her curly, unruly locks. I don’t need it. She hadn’t done anything except cut her bangs after chemo stole her gorgeous long hair.

The heck you don’t! Betty Lou exclaimed. Looks like you chopped your hair in the dark with garden shears.

Biting her lip, Josie remembered the day she’d lopped her bangs off. It was the first anniversary of the day Brandon walked out of her life.

My dear, your hair grew back, and with God’s help, you can create a good life. Ruby blinked.

What kind of life? Josie snapped, then regretted her reaction. I’m sorry, but no man in his right mind would look at a woman with no breasts. All I wanted was to have a husband and family. Now who knows if I’ll even live long enough to be an old maid.

Child, you don’t need a man to make you happy. Betty Lou, ever optimistic, smiled. Why, my Charley’s been gone for twenty years. I won’t say being a widow is rosy, but happiness comes from within you, not from someone else. Ain’t that right, Neva?

Mom stood and jangled her keys. She’s right. Now put some shoes on and grab your purse. I’ll put your bags in the back of the car.

I’m not going to town. Josie folded her arms across her shapeless chest, then quickly dropped her hands when she realized it drew attention to the flatness. I’m not dressed for it.

I’ll pick something for you to wear. Betty Lou disappeared into the bedroom, ignoring Josie’s protests.

Josie felt her nostrils flare as she glared at her mother, then marched in to find Betty Lou shuffling through her closet.

How about this cute floral top? It’ll make those big blue eyes sparkle. She handed it to Josie and sifted through more clothes. It’ll go great with this denim skirt. It’s warm enough for sandals. Betty Lou’s deep brown eyes surveyed Josie’s legs. You shaved your legs, right?

Nodding her head, Josie grinned. Only Betty Lou would ask that. Nobody could stay sulky around her mom’s friends. Okay, I’ll be out in a minute. Josie pointed to the door. I really can get dressed by myself.

Tsk tsk. Looks like you need help. Betty Lou rested her hands on her ample hips and shook her head. Cut off sweatpants and a T-shirt that would fit me. My, my. The door clicked behind her.

Sinking to the edge of her bed, Josie buried her face in her hands. Lord, I can’t do this. Why can’t they understand I don’t want to be seen in public? But how could she let them down? Sighing, she stripped off her clothes and put a lacy cami underneath the silky top Betty Lou had chosen for her. Flat. She scowled at her image in the full-length mirror. Everything’s flat.

***

After two hours at Top to Toes Day Spa, Josie leaned back in the passenger seat of Mom’s Tahoe and sighed. Thanks, Mom. The bright nail polish and new hair-do makes me feel better. She flipped the visor mirror open and glimpsed Betty Lou and Grace with their heads together, whispering behind their hands.

Mom cleared her throat. We have one more stop.

Grace flashed a fake smile while Betty Lou pursed her lips and studied the scenery out her window.

Suspicion tied Josie’s neck muscles in knots. What are you ladies up to?

Well, we’re trying to get you to feel better about yourself. You’ve hardly been out of the house for a year. Mom’s knuckles whitened as she gripped the steering wheel.

Josie twisted her purse straps with both hands, trying to keep from saying something she’d regret. I work from home. And why does it concern anyone if I don’t get out?

Ruby’s quiet voice from the back seat helped settle her nerves. You’re not the same bubbly, energetic girl you used to be, and we’d like to have that girl back. We miss you at church, and everyone at Circle Village Retirement loves you.

A most unladylike snort escaped Josie as she remembered the relentless teasing she endured as she recovered from double mastectomy at her mother’s. Not everyone. Vince hates me. He’s rude.

He sticks his foot in his mouth all the time because he doesn’t know what kind of surgery you’ve had. With him being a bachelor, it was awkward to explain. Mom patted Josie’s thigh.

Humph! He’s not afraid to express his opinion about a woman’s shape. He needs a filter. Betty Lou punched her fist in the air. Or a muffler.

Aw, he’s a man. What do ya expect? Grace dug in her pockets, then her hands stilled. Here’s the shop I told you about, Neva. Grace touched Josie’s shoulder. Now don’t get your panties in a wad. These are professional women and can help you.

Josie bristled. Beautiful Again, Women’s Cancer Center. No! I’m done with the wig, and I don’t need some blobs of polyester stuffed in a bra. I could do that at home if I wanted to.

Now don’t get upset. Let’s just see what they have. You don’t have to get anything if you don’t want to.

Josie unfastened the seat belt and it slid mockingly across her chest. You are making a clown out of me. Next I’ll be wearing fake eyelashes and stilettos. She resisted the urge to slam the car door after she exited.

A middle-aged woman met them inside the door. Hello, I’m Martha. How may I help you?

Neva, Betty Lou, and Grace all started talking at once, gesturing toward Josie. She picked at her new sparkly green nail polish and studied the paisley pattern of the carpet. If she wasn’t so irritated, she might shed the tears of humiliation that stung her eyes.

They want me to get new bumps on my chest, but I’m perfectly happy to ditch a bra for good.

We have other options. Martha smiled. You women make yourselves comfortable while the young lady and I step into the showroom for a visit. She caught Josie’s hand in a firm, yet comforting grip and led her into a room with many options of prosthesis on display. She pointed to a camisole. Feel this fabric. It’s super soft and comfortable, not scratchy like the fabric of bras.

Josie touched the garment, then ran both hands over it. It is soft.

I also have long-line bras made of the same material. They won’t irritate the incisions. There’s no danger of things shifting out of place, and it closes in the front. They’re very comfortable.

How do you know? Josie stared at the woman’s chest.

Martha lifted the edge of her sweater. My dear, you aren’t the only woman who’s had a double mastectomy. You’re lucky to have yours now instead of thirty years ago. My surgeon was a butcher. She pointed to the end of a lumpy, jagged scar. It took months for my incisions to heal. I wanted to crawl into a hole and die, but with the prayers of my family and friends, I came through with a determination to help others who had gone through the demoralizing surgery. I opened Beautiful Again, and it blesses me to help others lift their self-esteem.

It’ll take more than new underwear to help me.

It’s a start. Prayer is the only thing that heals your deepest wounds. Would you like to be fitted for a bra? We can have one ready for you by next week.

Josie’s shoulders drooped. Why not?

****

Clint Stuart rolled his shoulders as he pulled his truck into the retirement community where his uncle lived. Uncle Vince was laid up with a sprained ankle and his brother, Clint’s dad, was out of town. So here he was, stuck with taking care of him.

He parked behind an old Ford pickup and gathered the bags of food Vince had ordered from