Driftwood Dreams

by T. I. Lowe

  August pushed the plate away and leaned on his elbows. “If you’re serious about helping me, I could use it.”

  “Sure. Whatever you need.” Tucker tipped his chair on the back legs while twirling his fork.

  “Good. I have a few paintings I need to create before the exhibit, but in the meantime y’all need to finish up your breakfast.”

  “Why?” both brothers asked in unison, both looking expectant.

  “We need to head over to the camp and test out the pool for a while.” He’d just gotten word earlier that the pool passed inspection.

  “Yay!” Zachary squealed. And although Tucker didn’t squeal, August could tell his brother wanted to by the way his chair legs suddenly landed back on the floor and the fork stilled in his hand. Pool was an understatement for the setup they had at the camp.

  The boys cleaned up the table in record speed, grabbed their gear, and headed just inland a ways to where the camp was tucked away on a large piece of farmland. As his truck pulled past the gate and crept up the long driveway, August couldn’t help but think about how fun it would be to share the spectacular place with Josie.

  Patience, he thought to himself. Just gotta have some patience.

  By the time the boys had their fill of the pool, Tucker was grumbling about starving and Zachary had set a pretty good rhythm of yawning and declaring he wasn’t tired at the same time. August agreed more food was needed, and Zachary didn’t protest when August picked him up and carried him to the truck.

  August noticed the gray truck crawling up the camp drive as he buckled his little brother into his booster seat. “Tuck, crank the truck. I just need to have a quick word with Uncle Carter,” he said while closing the door.

  “I have my license. I can drive us, too.” Tucker hurried into the driver’s seat.

  August cut him a firm look. “Not my truck, you won’t.” He wasn’t much on material possessions, but he sure missed his black King Cab while in Europe.

  Carter hopped out of the cab while turning his backward hat into the front position. “She in?”

  “Nice to see you, too,” August said sarcastically.

  “We ain’t got time for pleasantries.” Carter gestured with both hands at the five large buildings sitting in a wide arc—each one already designated to house a specific fine art. “We’ve got a lot riding on this place.”

  “I know this.” August stared at the large L-shaped art building to their right as he leaned on the side of Carter’s truck. His gaze moved around, baffled by the sight before him. “I just can’t get over this being the same plot of farmland I left two years ago.”

  “I sent you the plans and pictures.”

  August shrugged. “I know, but it’s a whole lot different in person.” He pointed to the swaying trees that seemed to be welcoming him. “Those palmetto trees in the courtyard are a nice touch.”

  “I thought so, but we need to get to breathing some life into the rest of this place.” Carter hitched a thumb over his shoulder. “I’m hanging a mural in the photography studio and have photos for the other buildings to correspond with each particular fine art. Now it’s time for you to get the lead out with the exteriors.”

  “I’m working on it.” August rubbed at the tension collecting against his forehead.

  “Two months are gonna be gone in a blink, man. So either get to it with Josie or let me handle it. I don’t know why you just can’t offer her the position and be done with it.”

  August raised his palms. “Josie isn’t one you can just toss something like this at. Plus, she clammed up as soon as I walked in the diner.”

  Carter let out a bark of laughter. “She ain’t seen you in ages, man. You probably scared her with all that black hair.” He reached his large paw over before August could move out the way and mussed his hair. “What did you expect?”

  “Whatever.” August leaned over to the truck and tapped on the tinted window when he noticed Zachary sacked out. The window whirled down. “Prop little guy’s head up or he’s going to have one mean kink in his neck.” He watched on to make sure Tucker rearranged the boy in his seat properly. “Are y’all cool enough in there?”

  Tucker settled back into the driver’s seat. “Yeah. I got the AC cranked. It’s chill.” The window went up, hiding the goofy face he was making.

  August shook his head and brought his attention to Carter. “Now that I’ve seen Josie, I just don’t know . . .”

  Carter’s brow furrowed. “Now that you’ve seen her? Hello! That woman is just as beautiful as she’s always been.”

  August thought about seeing her earlier with all that long white-blonde hair gathered in a messy topknot and the light sprinkling of freckles across the bridge of her nose that were front and center without a drop of makeup to hide them. She was a natural beauty, no doubt about it.

  “She’s gorgeous, but that’s beside the point.” August let out a pensive sigh and stretched his hands out between them, showing off the fact that even though he’d spent the better part of the day in a pool, paint still clung to his nail beds. “She didn’t have one drop of paint on her hands. None on her clothes—”

  “Are you kidding me right now? Maybe not all artists are as sloppy as you.” Carter shoved into August’s shoulder, causing him to stumble sideways a bit.

  He steadied himself and took a half step out of Carter’s reach. “No. I’m looking for passion. She used to have it in spades, but if she’s allowed it to fade . . .” August shrugged again. “I just don’t know.”

  “What are you going to do about it?”

  August glanced at his brawny uncle. With only a few years’ age difference, they were more like brothers than not, and they knew each other like the backs of their own hands. “You know me. I have a plan.”

  Carter fixed his dark-blue eyes on him from underneath the brim of his hat, and August noted the seriousness in his expression. “Don’t shell-shock her again. The poor woman has gone through enough.”

  August huffed. “This ain’t going to be easy.”

  Carter nodded his head and started off in the direction of the music building, where his passion resided. “Nothing in life that’s worth it ever is,” he said over his shoulder and waved a hand in the air. “Now get to it!”

  “I’m on it!” August yelled back as he climbed into the truck, too preoccupied with his thoughts about Josie. It wasn’t until they reached the city limits of Sunset Cove that he realized he’d let his kid brother drive.

  3

  With the sun casting a glittery effect on the sand and surf, the image gave off a perfect depiction of tranquility and whispered a message that all was right. It was the same picture Josie worked diligently to showcase as well over the years to help hide the debilitating fears that were constantly threatening to overtake her. Through carefully placed smiles and keeping to the edges of every situation, she did a good job most of the time, but the unexpected visit from August Bradford had rattled her. She worried it would expose the shadows that continuously lurked just underneath her surface, at the ready to swallow up the light. It wasn’t due to the man himself, but the aftermath he would leave in his wake once another wave of an opportunity picked him up and carried him far from the shore of Sunset Cove.

  Opal and Sophia prattled in their lounge chairs on either side of Josie. She’d mostly tuned them out as Opal recapped her disastrous encounter with August Bradford at the diner.

  “He left his number. How much more obvious could the man be about his interest?” Opal snickered, straightening the top of her crocheted swimsuit that, in Josie’s opinion, resembled a doily. Who knew where she was even able to find such a suit.

  Josie returned her attention to the shore, but the only thing she could see was a set of silvery-blue eyes. She didn’t care to admit how much August’s eyes and the mere sound of his familiar voice tied her up in knots.

  Adjusting her oversize sun hat, Sophia giggled for the hundredth time that sunny afternoon. “I can’t believe you clammed
up, Josie. You should have strutted your pretty self around that counter and laid a welcome kiss on that man and told him it was about time he made his way home to you.”

  “Oh, my goodness! Wouldn’t that have been a hoot! The Knitting Club probably would have all passed out!” Opal sighed. “Too bad our girl could hardly breathe. You would have thought Henry Cavill himself had sauntered into the diner,” Opal said as she mimicked Josie’s reaction, clutching her chest and widening her eyes. In a blink, her silliness fell away and was replaced with a thoughtful expression. “Come to think of it, August does favor Henry quite a bit, minus the cleft chin. Oh, and Henry’s British.”

  Sophia waved Opal’s last comment off with a flick of her prissy hand as a wayward Frisbee flew by her head. Someone shouted an apology, sending her prissy hand to wave that off, too. “That’s not French, though.”

  “Close enough.” Opal shrugged.

  All three women agreed that August living abroad, spending a good bit of that time in France, was the most romantic thing. Josie often dreamed about being by his side, but she’d never admitted that out loud.

  “I can’t wait to see him without the blue hair and piercings.” Sophia sounded a bit too excited for Josie’s liking. “He was a looker even with all those trinkets and hair dye trying to camouflage it. Bet he’s drop-dead gorgeous au naturel.”

  Back in high school, Josie thought his rebellious style was what made him so fascinating and mysterious, but seeing him with his natural black hair and no piercings in sight, she understood there was no truth to that theory. August Bradford carried himself in such a gracious and respectful manner, it automatically drew people to him. No matter the hair color.

  “He still has tattoos,” Josie mumbled, feeling defensive all of a sudden. Not many and no new ones that she saw, but still . . .

  “Look! Our girl is turning all red again!” Opal pointed as the giggling picked back up.

  Josie sucked her teeth. “Hush up, already. Two hours of y’all picking on me is more than enough.”

  “Honey, we’re just trying to get you to lighten up a bit.” Opal sat up and placed her hand on top of Josie’s fisted one. “Ease up on yourself. It’s okay that you like him.”

  “I don’t even know if I’d call it that. In school, I always felt sick to my stomach when he was around. Six years have passed and I still feel sick.” Exasperated with herself and mortified by the whole ordeal, Josie flung an arm over her face. She’d caught only a glance here or there of August since he’d moved away, and each time it had released a colony of butterflies in her stomach.

  “Oh, you’re just too precious.” Opal snickered again.

  Josie had the urge to reach over and tug on one of Opal’s reddish pigtails but chose to keep one hand over her face and the other one balled up. “Leave. It. Be.” Josie growled stern enough that Opal finally removed her hand.

  “Pass me the sunblock,” Sophia requested, ignoring her friends’ banter.

  Josie dropped her arm and studied Sophia as the self-proclaimed debutante smoothed the matching sarong to her navy-and-white one-piece. Even the giant sun hat matched her outfit. “You’re already wearing at least a gallon of the stuff,” she teased as she tightened the string of her teal bikini, knowing good and well she didn’t have even a slight slope of a curve to fill it.

  Her friends always complimented her, saying she had such an athletic physique, but she knew that was code for a boyish frame. Even surrounded by greasy fare most days hadn’t done a thing to soften the look.

  As if on cue, the succulent scent of fried seafood wafted from the diner just behind them. Inhaling deeply, Josie fought the urge to go check on things, but it was her day off, so she stayed put in her chair.

  A few beats passed while the wind shifted. Josie allowed the lazy breeze to carry the aroma and her self-conscious thoughts away as she refocused on her prim friend who was still waiting for the sunblock.

  “It’s been an hour. I need to reapply.” Sophia wiggled her manicured hand toward the bottle peeping out of Opal’s straw bag, her flashy diamond ring sending sparkles dancing along the bleached sand.

  Sophia was the only one out of the trio to jump into the matrimony part of life as well as motherhood. She’d been married for three years and had the cutest toddler Josie had ever seen. With both of those major life accomplishments and an impressive job at a PR firm that represented several major figures in the professional sports world, she was one busy lady but balanced it all quite well.

  Josie respected Sophia’s determination. The Southern belle with an Italian heritage was intriguing, and her spunk for knowing what she wanted and going after it made her admirable. Sophia didn’t allow anything to get in her way when it came to accomplishing her dreams.

  Josie, on the other hand, did nothing with her own dreams but allow them to dim like a burnt-out star.

  “Don’t forget to head straight over to my parents’ house after church Sunday for the barbecue,” Opal mentioned for the third time since they’d parked it on the beach.

  Sophia scoffed. “Honey, you cannot refer to a sprawling estate as a mere house.”

  “Call it what you want. Just head straight there after church. I’ll be really offended if you don’t show up,” Opal commented with a good bit of sternness.

  Josie and Sophia saluted Opal at the same time, cracking up.

  “No need in getting so riled up,” Sophia sassed.

  “Just wanting to make myself clear . . .” Opal shrugged and let out an odd giggle. “Daddy doesn’t have much free time, and . . . I don’t spend much time with him . . . and I want to make some memories.”

  Josie studied Opal, worry kicking up all sorts of what-if scenarios. “Opal, please tell me everyone and everything is okay.”

  Opal blinked a few times before her eyes rounded. “Oh no! I’m sorry. No!” She giggled nervously again.

  “You better not be hiding something important from us, Opal Gilbert.” Sophia shook a finger at their fidgeting friend. “You know how aggravated it makes me when you’re not being straight up.”

  “I promise everything is fine and Sunday is all about fun times.” Opal nodded and gazed out over the ocean. “You know . . . that surfer looks a lot like our Superman . . .” She pointed to the figure way offshore, sending both of her friends’ attention in that direction. All three sat up a little straighter to take in the view.

  Sure enough, even from the distance, Josie knew it was him. Many a summer day, even winter days for that matter, while growing up, she had privately watched him own the waves with his surfboard. She should have known the surfer would be back in action just as soon as an unforeseen force kicked up some proper waves.

  August only lived maybe a quarter mile from Driftwood Diner. Or he had before moving out from his adoptive parents’ home.

  “I wonder if he’s staying with the Bradfords,” Josie pondered out loud before catching herself.

  “Wouldn’t that just be the sweetest? I bet Zachary and Tucker are ecstatic.” Opal clapped her hands.

  August’s childhood story was one that had drawn a lot of attention around town. His parents lost their parental rights for him and Tucker, and the boys’ grandfather was appointed as guardian. Come to find out, the grandfather pretty much abandoned them—staying out of town for months at a time. Thankfully, the Bradfords got wind of it and adopted the boys.

  “August!” Opal shouted, drawing Josie out of her thoughts and driving her into a wall of distress. “Here comes our superhero.”

  Panicked, Josie slapped her palm over her friend’s mouth. “Are you crazy?”

  Opal shrugged off Josie’s hand and shouted again when August began walking out of the surf with his longboard tucked under his arm. Josie searched around like a madwoman for her cover-up, finding the white hem barely visible in Opal’s bag. She knew before begging that Opal wouldn’t be handing it over, but she tried anyway.

  “Hand me my sundress. Now,” she said through gritted teeth, nearly gr
owling. Opal ignored her nasty tone and continued to wave like a lunatic, so Josie went for a softer petition. “Please. If you love me—even just a little—you will hand it over this instant. . . . Please.”

  August slowly raised his hand and delivered a much more subdued wave as he began moving in their direction. He was only steps away from their three lounge chairs. Not nearly enough time for Josie to make a run for it or to snatch the cover-up from Opal’s bag. The only thing she could do was lie there like a dead body waiting for the tide to roll in and carry her away.

  “Hi, August,” Sophia cooed as August stood before them with ocean water cascading down his long limbs.

  “Hey. Good to see you,” August replied as he set his board down on the sand. Several wet locks of hair slipped onto his forehead. He slicked them back before settling his hands on his lean hips.

  Josie noticed remnants of purple and red paint still clinging to his right hand, evidence of an art project, she suspected. She wondered what it might be.

  The thought dredged up old familiar feelings from her teenage years. After school, she used to sneak into the art studio to steal a glimpse of whatever masterpiece he would be working on at the time.

  “Josie?” August called out.

  Looking up, she muttered in his direction without making eye contact, “Huh?”

  August’s lips quirked up on one side and caught Josie’s attention without her permission. “I was just asking if you’ve figured out a technique for untying problematic knots yet.”

  “I think our girl needs a lesson on that matter,” Opal answered before Josie could form one. Of course she knew what he was referring to since she’d read the note. The very same note she’d already talked in length about with Sophia at Josie’s expense.

  If they’d been sitting at a table, the chatty woman would have one bruised-up shin by now. As it was, the only thing Josie could do was sit there awkwardly and put up with her friend’s razzing.

  “Karma,” Josie said out of the corner of her mouth for only Opal to hear, but then Sophia decided to chime in as well.