A Discovery of Hope (A Coming Home Again Novel Book 3)

by Lowe, T. I.

  “I’m from Kiawah Island,” I say after everyone settles down.

  “Aah… So you are an island girl,” Veevee says and gives me a wink over the top of her colorful bifocals. “Most fitting with those golden eyes and your warm complexion.”

  The waitress bustles out with a tray of glasses. Another waitress follows behind her with a few extra pitchers of tea. I guess they don’t want this group to run out. I gladly take a sip of my super-sweet tea. The icy beverage cools my throat that is burning from all the rib-busting laughs.

  “I’m biracial,” I blurt out as I tend to do anymore. I feel the need to share my race with them for some reason.

  “Good for you, Suga’,” Bee says as she pats my arm. “Now. What we really want to know is if you’ve gotten a chance to taste those delicious-looking lips on that handsome devil back at the gallery.”

  All the women lean closer in my direction, anticipating my answer. That night’s unexpected kiss flashes through my mind, causing heat to creep up my face. They all burst out in HOLLAS and WOOHOOS like a bunch of school girls.

  Their outburst earns them a warning look from the host. He walks close enough to deliver a one-word warning. “Ladies.” They all roll their eyes at him and some do a shooing motion towards him while a few actually stick their tongues out. He hesitates to give them a glaring look before going back to the front of the restaurant.

  “Those pink cheeks are all the answer we need. Gal Pals, our long-suspecting query has just been confirmed all over our pretty Tropical Barbie’s face! That man kisses as good as he looks,” Beebee says enthusiastically. She’s practically bouncing in her chair.

  I glance around the table and find most of the gals fanning themselves dramatically. These genteel belles are a trip! I’m head-over-heels in love with them!

  A younger woman, who’s maybe in her early forties, joins us after a while. Ceecee introduces her as her Keekee. She tucks her dark blonde hair behind her ear and smiles at me appreciatively. “Yay!! Young blood. Maybe these women will lay off me and my love life for a change.”

  “I’m Willow, but will answer to suga’ or darlin’ also,” I say as she leans over to give me a hug.

  “Welcome to this eccentric group, suga’,” Keekee says dramatically. She has a seat as we all order our choice of lunch specials.

  After another spell of chats, Deedee leans over to Keekee and loudly whispers in a slow southern drawl, “She’s kissed our JP.” She’s all giddy at being able to share this and bounces a bit in her seat.

  “I think JP probably gets plenty of kisses.” I snort, thinking about how flirtatious he can be. The man knows what he’s doing and knows his effect on women. Such a confidence he emits.

  “Oh, I’m sure he has in his young handsome past, but you should have seen how he was justa’ watching you today, darlin’. I think he’s quite smitten with you,” Leelee says. She pushes her glasses up a bit on her petite nose and eyes me knowingly.

  I feel another blush creep over my cheeks. “I’m not so sure about that,” I mumble.

  “Nonsense,” Veevee says.

  Thank goodness, the food is delivered. They drop the subject and Beebee leads us in a prayer that is very touching. She thanks God for me and asks for His blessings to be divvied out abundantly on my young life. I actually get choked up. I have definitely stumbled upon something special with this group. Or thrown head first in the midst of them is more like it. Either way, I’m grateful.

  Lunch passes with one silly, crazy antidote after another. The host, whose name is Trent, has had to calm them down several times. They keep telling Trent, they say his name as though it’s a curse word, to just let them have their fun. These chicks know how to live it up and I find myself wishing Hope was here to enjoy them with me. I keep catching myself looking around for her. I’m starting to get attached to that angel.

  We emerge from the bistro in the late afternoon, and I do believe I see the world through different eyes with how much these ladies have enlightened me. I’ve been served up life lessons on love, education, gardening, etc. right along with my she crab soup. I also have a pecan pie recipe scribbled on a napkin from Deedee. She insists I bake JP one as soon as possible. She says the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, but I’m not sure I want to make my way to that man’s heart. I barely know him. Although, I have to admit, I wouldn’t mind another kiss. Veevee agrees with Deedee and has ordered two large bags filled with to-go boxes for me to bring to JP.

  We are saying our farewells when Janet passes us on the sidewalk. We are close to the Battery so I’m guessing she is on her way there. I call out to her and she pauses in confusion then recognition. She’s wearing a long weathered skirt with a button-down shirt and her hair is escaping a ponytail. As I introduce her to the whole lot of Gal Pals, I see a silent conversation pass between the group. The next thing I know, HOLLA’s are singing out between the women and they are whisking Janet away down the sidewalk.

  Bee hangs back for a beat. “Welcome to the Gal Pals, pal.” She smiles such a warm smile that dances in her chocolate eyes. “Can you fill me in on Janet?”

  I tell her the little information I know and she nods her head in understanding. “She’s been through a lot according to JP. He says her ex nearly beat her to death and now she lives in a home for battered women.” I pause before adding, “Bee, I think she really needs some support.”

  Patting me on the shoulder, Bee says, “We got this, suga’.” She then hurries off to catch up with the group. We watch as they whisk Janet into a hair salon.

  Smiling in contentment, I lug the two large bags of food back to the gallery. The closed sign is in the window, but I find the door unlocked. I step inside and pause to lock the door behind me. Glancing at the clock, confusion causes me to blink before looking again. It declares the time is after five. How’d that happen? Those women have kept me in a happily confused state all day long. Wow. I shake my head at this as I head into JP’s office. I set the bags on his desk as he eyes them.

  “The Gal Pals said to feed you.”

  JP grins over at me. “I was beginning to fear they weren’t going to return you.” He stands up and grabs the bags. “Let’s go share with Duke.”

  I follow him into Duke’s apartment and we find the purple-haired artist splattered in paint as he is creating a masterpiece on his cinder block walls. Today he is painting some elaborate abstract piece that looks like a world swirling around itself. I’m captured in the complexity of the colors licking and dancing together and am glued in my spot for a while as Duke continues to paint.

  JP does the same for a bit, before easing over to the stereo, that’s cranked pretty loud, to switch it off. “Time to eat.”

  Duke snaps out of the painting trance he was in and drops the brush into a small bucket. He rubs his hands over his jeans and joins JP at the table. I ease over to the bed in the corner of the room and sprawl out and watch the guys dig into the seafood platters.

  “What’s up with you?” Duke asks around a mouthful of fried fish.

  “She spent the day with the Gal Pals,” JP answers for me, causing Duke to bark in laughter.

  “They can wear you out,” Duke says before shoveling some slaw into his mouth.

  “I fell in love with them,” I murmur wistfully. I look over to JP and catch him watching me as he eats. “We bumped into Janet and they kidnapped her,” I tell him.

  “Yeah? Awesome.” He grins with gratitude.

  I smile at this and close my eyes. I drift off to sleep in a happy bliss.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Waking with a start, I feel like I just drifted off to sleep on Duke’s bed but somehow ended up in my own bed. I check the clock and see there’s only thirty minutes before the gallery is supposed to open up. It’s Saturday and the early shoppers will be waiting for the door to open, so I hurry through a shower and head to JP’s office with ten minutes to spare. I’m surprised to find Duke behind his desk instead.

  His blac
k attire has a splash of color today from his black T-shirt that has Art Rocks in hot pink. Only Duke could pull off such a style and still look overly masculine. He looks up from today’s schedule and smiles. “Good morning, beautiful.”

  I smile at his sweet endearment. “Two questions for ya. How’d I end up in my bed? And where’s the boss?”

  “The boss refused to let me keep you last night. Dude carried you to your room like the princess you are.” He smirks with the pierced eyebrow raised wickedly. “Very Prince Charming of the punk, don’t you think?”

  “Well, where is Prince Charming?”

  Duke heads for the front door, so I follow him. “He had to head to the Bay Creek gallery for a special showing.”

  “Humph.”

  Duke stops and looks back at me. “What’s that about?”

  “He hardly ever tells me anything. It’s annoying. I like to know what’s going on.”

  “JP’s not used to answering to anybody. Don’t take it personal.” He casually drapes his arm over my shoulder and gives me a side-hug. “Look on the bright side. You get to hang out with me.”

  “Well. That is pretty appealing.” I return the hug before he releases me to let about a dozen customers in, who are patiently waiting on the sidewalk.

  And so we hang out all day, selling a substantial amount of photos and scheduling appointments. A guy even tried to purchase the picture of me by the stairs, but Duke was quick to point out it wasn’t for sale.

  “Why, man? I’ll pay top dollar for it.” The man tried to talk Duke out of it over and over.

  “Sorry, dude. The boss gave strict orders it’s not up for sale. He said he would have my…” Duke cuts me a sideways look and I’m surprised he used his manners to spare me of what JP would have done to him, if he sold my photo. “Well… You can guess. Sorry.”

  The man kept circling back to it, so Duke eventually took it down and hung it in JP’s office. It was starting to creep me out. I wasn’t crazy about being on display anyway.

  I blink my eyes and it’s five and we are locking up for the day. After we complete the cleanup routine, I grab the little remote and with one touch of a button the front gallery windows block out the outside world with the frost feature. I think it’s a pretty neat feature. It’s nicer than blinds, for sure.

  I hesitate at the bottom of the stairs with no desire to be stuck in my room, bored out of my mind.

  Duke must sense it because he says, “Let’s you and me have some fun tonight.”

  “I don’t think we have the same definition of fun,” I say skeptically.

  This causes him to erupt in a deep chuckle. “Trust me, Willow. You will have fun.”

  I still don’t accept, but just stand here stalling.

  He grins at my nervousness. “I have some artwork to deliver. Come with me. You may learn a little about art tonight. We’ll behave… Probably.”

  “Okay. That sounds innocent enough.”

  Duke laughs again as he checks his watch. “We roll out at seven.”

  “Umm… Do I need to dress up?”

  “Jeans and a shirt will be fine. No pretention where we are going.” He heads out the back. Of course he wouldn’t be putting up with anyone with pretention. Duke is an I-am-who-I-am kind of guy.

  At seven, I meet him in the back parking lot and climb in his oversized pickup truck. We hit Savannah Highway and make a pit stop at Bessingers for a quick bite to eat. We both order a Big Joe and decide to split a basket of onion rings. This famous BBQ place is my favorite hands-down. The mustard-based sauce is out of this world. My eyes were bigger than by stomach, so Duke generously polishes off the other half of my pulled-pork sandwich along with the majority of the onion rings. I feel like I need to be rolled out the door by the time we leave. Duke gets us refills on our sweet teas for the road. We settle back in his truck and he heads deep into Charleston until he pulls up to a tattoo parlor.

  I eye the sign, Case Art, and ask, “Are you getting new ink?”

  “You never know,” he says with a wink before opening his door. He grabs a portfolio. “Come on. No one bites.”

  I reluctantly hop out of the truck and follow after him into the shop. I’m blown away when we enter. The walls are covered in various paintjobs and I know instantly who the artist is. I look over at him and shake my head.

  “What?” he asks.

  “The sky is the only limit for you, my friend. Duke, you should be in art galleries all over the world.”

  He shrugs his shoulder. “I think it’s pretty cool to be on display here.” He turns from me and hollers out. “Yo!”

  Several tattoo artists look up from their breathing art canvas and yell back. “Yo!” I give their tattoos-in-progress a quick inspection and am quite impressed. There’s nothing amateur about this place. These are skilled artists.

  Duke grabs my hand and we weave towards the back to a private room. I look around and find the place very clean, in a sterile way. I’m impressed. This is definitely not the image I had conjured up in my mind about a tattoo parlor. Duke’s designs cover all the walls and there are some framed pictures of people displaying their ink. Some are full body shots, and some are of specific parts, like a shoulder or just a back.

  Duke knocks on the door before pushing through and pulls me inside a private tattoo room. A gigantic guy is stretched out on a black leather chair that sort of reminds me of the one at the dentist’s office. Another guy with black unruly hair and numerous tattoos is sitting on a stool. He spins around and eyes us.

  “It’s about time you got here with the art.” The tattoo artist pauses to give me an approving look. “Hmm… You brought a Bahama Mama to keep us company too?”

  Duke bumps fists with him. “Case, this is Willow, and she will not be any kind of Mama for you.” Case grins wickedly at me with this declaration as though Duke may have just offered up a challenge.

  “And Willow, this big dude in the chair is Liam. He’s a professional fighter and will kick Case’s butt if he hits on you tonight.” They all chuckle. Liam, who is studying his phone, looks up and nods for a welcome. He smiles before going back to the phone. Duke is being so protective of me, and I can’t hold back the grin due to this. “I thought I would give Willow a lesson on an art medium she’s not familiar with, if you don’t mind,” Duke says, standing close by my side.

  “Not at all. Welcome, gorgeous.” Case offers his hand with a wink and I think Duke will probably have to get ahold of him again before this night’s over. He strokes my wrist with his thumb. “Hmm… Your lovely skin would be a treat to paint.” This man is confident in his charm.

  Duke steps between us so that Case has to drop my hand. My protector hands the portfolio over to Case. “Let’s decide what art Liam wants.” We walk over to a table that has an under light and Case starts spreading out the sheets of designs. The art is of various dragons, some in a perched state while others look to be in flight. They are simply amazing. I look over and see Liam eyeing them appreciatively. I’d hate to have to pick between them.

  “I like the ones in flight,” the giant says. He’s a good bit taller than us all and quite wide in the shoulders. Duke removes the perched dragons from the glowing table and Liam is left with three to choose from. “The middle one,” Liam says, finally deciding.

  Case makes a transfer while Duke tucks the papers back into the portfolio.

  “You did all those drawings and now they are only using one?” I ask. It’s a lot of work and I’m a bit disappointed for him.

  “Don’t worry about the starving artist, gorgeous. I’m purchasing them all,” Case speaks up as he pulls a cart full of inks and gadgets over to the chair.

  Duke gestures to a chair for me to have a seat. “We’re staying?” I ask.

  “Sure. The art lesson has just begun. Now we get to see it come to life.” Duke sits in the other chair and gestures again for me to sit.

  I do but almost bolt out of the room when Liam pulls his shirt off. I’m not sure I
feel comfortable staring at so much skin. The man’s body is a piece of well-built art in itself. He already has tattoos scattered along his ripped torso and arms.

  “Relax, Willow.” Duke nudges my shoulder with his.

  Case chuckles as he turns on his iPhone that is docked to a speaker port. Cage the Elephant starts filling the space with the lyrics to “Ain’t no Rest for the Wicked” while Case pulls on some black rubber gloves and goes to work.

  Hours pass with us hanging out while the tattoo gun hums along Liam’s upper shoulder. He seems to be in no pain and comfortably shares story after story of his fight career history. I cringe constantly as he talks about some of the gruesome injuries he’s sustained. He has a fight coming up in a month that will be aired live on TV from Miami. He’s excited and it’s obvious he’s passionate about it by the way he carries on and on with all of the details. I don’t mind. It’s a new world I know nothing about, so I listen on as the fire drake dragon comes to life on his back. Case paints, wipes, paints, and wipes in a calm quiet. His concentration is fierce and he lends very little to the conversation.

  At a later point in the night, after all of the black outline is complete, Case hands over the tattoo gun to Duke. Duke works on the shading for a solid two hours after this, adding vivid reds and oranges to the piece. I get caught up watching his intensity to his work, with him constantly biting at his lip ring in attentiveness. I wish I had my camera to capture this. He works magic with some grey shading under the dragon and the art takes on even more life. Once he’s done, I am taken aback by the finished product. I could swear my eyes are playing tricks on me, because the dragon looks to be flying over Liam’s shoulder and not touching his body. I gaze at it from all angles and am just blown away with it.

  Looking over at Duke in astonishment as he removes his black gloves, I repeat, “Sky is the only limit.”

  He offers me a lopsided grin before helping Case clean up.

  I shake my head as I watch the guys admire the art on Liam’s back while gazing in a full-length mirror. Just yesterday, I was hanging out with a group of sassy retired southern belles and now I find myself hanging out in a tattoo parlor with a bunch of rough and tough flirts.