Stroke of Love

by Melissa Foster

  Sage realized that this was Luce’s plan. She must have known how the children would react. And how much it would mean to them to see their photos in a newspaper. She probably also knew that seeing the light in Javier’s eyes would be difficult for Kate to walk away from.

  “You’re a sneak,” he whispered to her.

  “Maybe a little.”

  “Just do me one favor. Do not release anything until you talk to Kate. This is her show, not yours and not mine. She calls the shots.” When she didn’t answer, he narrowed his eyes. “Deal?”

  “Fine.” Luce gave him a playful shove toward the kids.

  Sage gathered the rest of the children from inside the school. They stood proud and smiling in front of the mural. Their bright smiles contrasted sharply with their dark skin, and their eyes danced with excitement. Sage stood behind them, thinking of how much Kate would enjoy seeing them and wishing she were there.

  Luce took several pictures, and the children did exactly as she asked, moving closer together and then moving the shorter children to the front of the group, the taller ones in back. By the time Luce was done, Sage was tired of the whole process and itching to get back to painting. The children thanked Luce, and it struck him how polite and well behaved they were. In fact, they had been polite and respectful since day one—another marked difference between home and Belize. He watched one of the older girls put her arm around her younger sister and walk her back into the school building, and he felt a pang of longing to talk to his own siblings.

  Three hours later, each of the children had taken their turn painting, and the mural was taking shape. Between Sage’s long hours of painting and the children’s efforts, the jungle had come to life. Lush foliage in various shades of greens and browns filled the left side of the mural. Giant leaves arched over tall grasses, and colorful flowers added depth and vividness to the forest. Javier had painted the upper half of the little boy beautifully, even if the tail of his T-shirt was painted with long streaks that hung below the boy’s knees on the right side, as if the shirt were shredded. A seven-year-old girl had taken her brush to the shorts the little boy wore, which hung unevenly above his knees. She smiled proudly after she finished, her tongue poking out of the gap where she’d lost her two front baby teeth. Sage didn’t have it in him to even the edges.

  He cleaned up the supplies, eyeing one of the canvases. He’d been sketching the area that led to the undiscovered beach where Kate had taken him, and he was dying to bring it to life on the canvas. It evoked warm feelings for him because of the time they’d spent there, and he hoped to bring that feeling of love to the artwork. Love. Love? Sage removed the canvas from the box and set it against the wall, remembering walking hand in hand with Kate along the clay path. Yes. Definitely love. He smiled, his pulse kicking up a notch.

  “The kids did an amazing job.”

  He spun around at the sound of Kate’s voice, still reeling from the realization of his feelings. Kate wore a loose pink tank top and cutoff jeans shorts. He’d seen her in almost the exact same style of clothing for days on end, and still, she had never looked so beautiful. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her luscious lips.

  “I missed you.” He nuzzled against her.

  “Me too, you. I can’t believe how much you guys got done and how different it feels to walk up to the building now. Oh my God, Sage. I can’t believe I almost robbed the kids of this experience.”

  They stood hand in hand and admired the mural.

  “Look at that mop of dark hair. That has to be Javier, right?”

  She looked up at him with a warm smile and a soft gaze. A wave of love—sure and precious—swept through him. “Yeah” was all he could manage.

  “I tried to reach Raymond earlier, but he wasn’t around. I sent him an email asking if he’d be open to hosting more than just celebrities here. Even if I’m not going to be here, at least Caleb wouldn’t have to deal with them.” She smiled up at him and ran her finger down the center of his chest. “No offense, but it would be nice to have more regular people around here, too.”

  Sage nodded, reeling with the realization that what he felt for Kate was undeniably love. Everything tumbled together at once: the idea of the nonprofit, his love for Kate, the feeling of finally knowing how he could do something more meaningful with his life. Emotions soared through him—fear, elation, desire, worry—rendering his muscles tight. He needed to get ahold of himself and find his footing.

  “I…um…”

  “Are you okay?” Kate’s voice was filled with concern.

  “Yeah. I…uh…I forgot. I need to Skype my brother.” And maybe my father. Father? Holy hell. Yes. He wanted his father’s input on the nonprofit. “I’ll catch up with you right after I’m back.”

  SAGE STOOD OUTSIDE the Internet café, taking deep breaths and blowing them out slowly, trying to settle his nerves. He felt like he’d sucked down five cups of coffee. His body whirred with excitement, and fear prickled his limbs. He had no fucking idea why he was scared, except that his father had that effect on him. Opening a company was vastly different from being an artist, and he knew his father wouldn’t be thrilled. He had no idea why he felt compelled to talk to him about it. What was he looking for? Approval? Shit no. He knew it wasn’t that. His father was a smart man, and he might have insight that Sage hadn’t thought about, and even if some of that was negative, in case it was also valid, Sage respected his father and wanted to hear it.

  When he finally went inside, the gods must have been shining down on him because the Internet connection was solid. At least for now. He emailed Dex with the subject line Skype NOW? Then he signed on to Skype and waited for Dex’s call. As a business owner, Dex would be able to fill him in on the basic areas he should be thinking about. He wiped his sweaty palms on his shorts while he waited for the call to come through.

  Dex’s call came through a few minutes later.

  “Dude!” Dex said with a grin that lit up his face. Dex’s long bangs partially covered his eyes. He ran his hand through his hair, and it fell right back into place. At twenty-six, Dex was a self-made millionaire. He’d developed his first PC game at eighteen, and after graduating college, he’d developed another, which had sold millions and allowed him to start his gaming company, Thrive Entertainment. He’d since expanded his focus, and he and his girlfriend, Ellie, were developing educational software under a government grant.

  “Hey, Dex. Before we talk, can you get Dad on the line? I wanted to talk to him, too, but I know he doesn’t check email often.”

  “Yeah, hold on.”

  He watched Dex call his father and listened to him telling him to get on Skype. A minute later, Dex ended the call. “Okay, he’ll be on in a minute.”

  Sage clicked the link to invite his father into the group Skype.

  “Thanks, man. How are you? How’s Ellie?”

  “She’s great. How are you down there in the heat? Miss the AC yet?” Dex asked.

  “Nah. It’s not bad. I’m working on a mural with the local kids, and watching them is really cool. Now I understand why Mom taught art on and off when we were growing up. The pride in their eyes is worth every drop of sweat.”

  “That’s how Ellie feels about teaching. She’s always talking about how the younger kids are so much less entitled than the middle schoolers. They still get excited over the little things that older kids think are stupid.” Dex leaned closer to the monitor. “The now in your message seemed urgent. Is something wrong?”

  “No. Nothing’s wrong. I just needed to pick your brain. You know how I’ve always felt like something is missing in my life? Like nothing I do is meaningful enough to…I don’t know. To matter.”

  “Yeah.” Dex nodded. “That’s why you went there, to see what other humanitarian efforts were all about.”

  “Right. Well, I’m seeing a girl here. Kate. And, Dex, man, I really like her.” Love her. I love her.

  “That’s great, right? Or does this mean you’re moving the
re and you want me to talk you out of it?” Dex narrowed his dark eyes. “Tell me what you need. I’ll do it.”

  His father’s call connected, and his image appeared on the screen.

  “Hey, Dad,” Sage said.

  “Hi, son. You all right?” The four-star general in his father was ever present, even all those miles away. He was authority personified, from his squared-off shoulders to his tightly pressed, thin lips and dark, narrow stare—and he made Sage’s heart slam against his ribs.

  “Yeah, fine. I really wanted to pick your brain about business. Here’s the deal. First, Dex, I definitely do not need you to talk me out of seeing Kate. She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me, but that’s not why I called. She runs the program in Punta Palacia for AIA. The village is a very remote, very small community, and the homes have no water and no electricity.” He should have thought out how to explain this before rambling. “They need fresh-water wells, and while the government has money for them, they’re a village of only a few hundred, and resources are tight. So the government isn’t making them a priority.”

  “Do you need us to contribute funding for the wells?” his father asked.

  “Of course not. I haven’t done my research yet, but I’m thinking about starting a company. A nonprofit. One that uses the arts to support the building of wells in newly developing nations.”

  “I don’t get it,” Dex interrupted. “How will you use art to do that?”

  “Hear me out. I’ve got all these contacts in the arts community. My stuff sells for obscene amounts of money. If we start an effort where artists donate high-end pieces of their work to the effort and we have an annual charity auction, we could raise a boatload of money each year, and that money could go right to the building of wells.” The more he talked about it, the more solidly the idea took shape.

  “You’ve got to think about overhead, paying staff,” Dex said.

  “Right. That’s why I wanted to talk to you. I’ll have to call my accountant and have her figure out all the financial details. But, Dex, off the top of your head, what else do I need to think about?”

  Dex ran his hand through his hair again. “There’s a lot to it, Sage, and nonprofits are totally different from my business. But in general, all the basics need to be covered. Liability and health insurance, tax issues, general administration, and overhead, which includes your office space, staffing, utilities, and I’d imagine that with what you’re talking about doing, you’ll have a ton of international stuff. I know nothing about that.”

  “Okay. And of course my attorney will need to work with the accountant to make sure it’s a viable business model, but I think if we focus on just the effort of bringing wells, and not spreading ourselves too thin, we could reduce the amount of illness and provide a better way of life for people in remote villages.” There was so much for him to consider that it seemed like an uphill battle, but the more he talked about it, the more certain he became that he wanted to do it. It was far more appealing than going back to a life that would never be fulfilling.

  “The kids here get up before dawn. They go to the river and haul water for their families and gather sticks in the jungle for the stoves. Hell, by the time the sun comes up, they’ve done more than half the kids in New York do all day—and then they go through their school day and do it all again in the evening. This could change lives, and I want to be part of that.”

  “Have you thought about donating to one of the nonprofits that already does that type of work?” His father sat with his shoulders back and his chin angled down and set a serious gaze on Sage. “I’m sure there are plenty of them willing to take the funding.”

  “Yeah, I have. But you know I want to do more. Cutting a check every month doesn’t do it for me. I’ve done that, and it still leaves me feeling empty.” Excitement escalated his voice. “And now that I’ve seen firsthand the issues that bringing in celebrities can cause—even though they donate a shitload of money—I definitely want to bring solutions without creating a spectacle of the communities.” And he didn’t want Kate having to deal with people like Penelope and Clayton—if she decided to join the effort.

  His father nodded but didn’t respond.

  “You’ll have to get a great PR rep,” Dex said.

  “So you don’t think I’m crazy?” Sage held his breath, waiting for his father to say something. Anything.

  Sage saw his brother’s eyes dart in the direction of his father’s image, and he knew he was holding his breath, too. His father had that effect on them.

  “Have you thought about what happens if you’re not successful?” His father ran his large hand along his jaw and rubbed his chin.

  “This is all just a concept right now,” Sage explained. “I haven’t ironed anything out yet, but I’m not talking about giving up what I do for a living, just cutting back on it a little. And traveling more.” And being with Kate. “If I try and fail, then I lose some capital, but I can always fall right back into my old life.” The thought of it turned his stomach.

  “You know nothing about that world, Sage. You’ve gone to Belize and found something that you feel good about, but it’s a bit of a whim, don’t you think?” His father lowered his chin and gave him the be serious stare that he knew too well from his childhood.

  “You’ve always told me to be the best I could be. I’m not doing that locked in New York feeling like I’m drowning in deadlines and…money.” Sage had never confronted his father about his beliefs, and now he felt as though he was standing up not only for what he wanted, but for Kate and for the people they could help. He took a deep breath, feeling the truth of his words. “Yes, this is fast. But I’ve found more here in two weeks than I’ve found anywhere else in twenty-eight years. And yeah, Dad, it’s a hell of a risk, and you can say it’s based on a whim. I don’t even know if I’ll do this or not, but I feel something doing this type of work that I don’t feel back home, and I need to pay attention to that.”

  His father nodded, a slow, serious nod. Sage’s mind screamed, That’s enough. Shut up. But something visceral, and unstoppable, pulled the next words from his tongue.

  “You fought for your country, Dad. I want to fight for those who can’t fight for themselves.” Sage felt deflated by his father’s silent glare and proud of his ability to stand up to him at the same time, leaving him floundering somewhere in the middle, waiting for a thread of appreciation or pride to show in his father’s eyes. His father didn’t flinch. The firm line of his jaw didn’t soften. Shit.

  “I think it’s a great idea,” Dex said, before their father had time to chime in. “You’ve been looking for something like this for a while.”

  “Thanks, Dex.”

  His father nodded. One curt nod that sent a memory of hurt through Sage. How many times had he seen that curt nod? The nod that translated to, You know what I think of this. Yeah, Sage knew, but he was no longer a kid. He was a man, and he wasn’t going to cower to his father’s beliefs any longer.

  Sage glanced behind him in the empty café and was relieved to see Makei standing at the entrance, his back to Sage, giving him at least a modicum of privacy.

  “Son. This woman Kate. How does she figure into this…endeavor?” his father said.

  In his heart Sage knew a man existed beyond the stern one who raised him. His parents had been married forever, and not once had Sage ever seen his father’s eyes stray or heard his father rue any part of their relationship. He was a hard, bullheaded man, but he was a good man, and even if Sage didn’t like his harsh style, he respected him, and that respect drove him toward the truth.

  “I’m not gonna lie to you, Dad. I like her a lot.” Just fucking say it. “Actually, I’m in love with her. I’m not thinking about taking on this business because of her, but if I do it, I hope she’ll be a part of it.”

  His father lifted his chin and looked at Sage down the bridge of his nose.

  “It scares the shit out of me, but…” Sage shook his head, then met his
father’s stare. “This is the way it is.” Sage’s chest tightened as he waited for his father to say something. Anything.

  “Love.” It wasn’t a question. It wasn’t a confirmation, and his father’s expression didn’t change when he said it.

  It was a statement, and one that Sage didn’t understand. He anticipated hearing a hundred reasons why he shouldn’t be thinking about love after such a short amount of time of knowing a woman, and along with each one came a pull of a muscle, a twist in his gut.

  “Son, when I fell in love with your mother, I was more scared about losing her than loving her.”

  His father’s sincere tone caught Sage off guard.

  His father’s eyes softened as he continued. “Love is a funny thing, Sage. You’ve seen what happened with Jack, and you’ve watched Dex and Ellie find each other again. If there’s one thing I’ve learned about love, it’s that when the person you love appears in your life, you can’t fight it. No matter how much that person frustrates you or pleases you, you are unable to walk away. Your heart draws you back.” He rubbed his hand down his face.

  The way his father spoke of love softened Sage’s feelings toward him—even after the uncomfortable discussion that had taken place only seconds before.

  “That’s true, Sage. It’s the most powerless and the most fulfilling feeling all wrapped up in one,” Dex added.

  “Thank God. I thought I was losing my mind.” Sage sat back and let out a loud breath. “It scares the shit out of me. I mean, I haven’t known Kate that long, and when I’m not with her, I’m thinking about her. When I’m with her…” I can’t get enough of her. He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to figure out how to describe all the things he loved about who Kate was, and there was too much to tell. Instead he decided to explain it by way of what they knew about him. “She lives her life in the way I’ve always dreamed of living mine.”

  “You live a pretty good life.” Dex shot a glance at his father.

  “I know. I’m blessed. We all are. We do well for ourselves, but come on. Living in New York has hardly been my dream. My dream has always been to do more for others while continuing to work with my art. You gotta know that.” He was waiting for his father’s diatribe. It had to be killing him, holding back the fighting words about making a living and always bettering himself.