Driftwood Dreams

by T. I. Lowe

  “Yes, but we’d have even more if August hadn’t cut my line a few times.” Nan pointed a fork at the offender.

  “You really want to go there?” August lifted a surly eyebrow from the other side of the table.

  “How about we say grace, so we can eat this food before it gets cold.” Derek grabbed his wife’s hand, causing her to drop the fork and sending every hand at the table to find another.

  After the prayer, the crowd set into devouring the bountiful spread and added an abundance of seasoned conversation to send the get-together well into the night.

  It wasn’t until Josie was snuggled in her bed later that she realized what August had successfully pulled off. It was the first time since her mom’s passing that Josie had felt she was actually able to survive Mother’s Day. Her mom’s memory nudged her a few times during the day as she watched Nan interact with her three sons, but each time an appreciative smile graced her face from those private reflections.

  Her phone buzzed on the nightstand with an incoming message. She rolled over, held it up to read, and smiled.

  Each time you see a flounder, you’ll be reminded that I am king of the fishing pole and Nan is a cheat.

  Smiling, she replied, Each time you see a flounder fillet fried to a golden brown with a side of my mom’s famous slaw, you’ll remember how grateful I was that you helped me through Mother’s Day without my mom. Thank you.

  Dots started up on the screen followed by another message. I really enjoy moment thieving with you. I’m the thankful one. Good night.

  Josie placed the phone on the nightstand and watched the moonlight dance on top of the ocean just outside her open window. She thought perhaps the wild fishing trip had actually been a favor to her from August, instead of the other way around, so she was pretty sure she owed him another one.

  18

  A new morning broke midweek with only a few clouds to mess up the sun’s perfect shine, but August had a feeling they wouldn’t be lingering for very long. And that was a good thing, because he had an idea that needed testing. He gathered the necessary supplies and headed out the door.

  A smile tipped up the corners of his lips as soon as he turned in to the parking lot at the camp and saw that a familiar pickup truck was already there. After checking a few of the buildings, he found a figure hunched over a bucket of paint on the right side of the auditorium. A fairy from A Midsummer Night’s Dream was already dancing above her.

  August knew Josie wasn’t comfortable with drawing human figures, but when he explained to her that they would be painting that building in the expressionism style, which would give her freedom in the details, she seemed persuaded to give it a try. He couldn’t help but be awestruck as he watched her add a wing to the fairy.

  “Looking good, Jo,” he commented as he walked up behind her. When she didn’t respond, he realized she was wearing earbuds.

  Instead of disturbing her, August stood off to the side and took a moment to just appreciate her painting. She bobbed her head and hummed along to a tune with a slight familiarity to it. He kept listening and watching until she turned to gather more paint on her brush and caught him.

  Eyes rounded, she let out a little squeak as her body jolted. “You scared me.” She pulled the earbud out of one ear and pressed a palm to her chest.

  “Sorry.” He smirked, tilting his head. “What are you listening to?”

  “Why?”

  “Clearly it’s inspiring.” He gestured toward the fairy. “Nicely done.”

  “‘Fly to Your Heart.’ It’s from Tinker Bell,” she admitted.

  August chuckled. “That’s why it sounded familiar.” When Josie looked at him inquisitively, he explained, “Never tell Zachary I told you this, but the little guy was obsessed with that movie for a while. He’s into the princess movies, too.”

  “Oh.” Josie smiled. “That’s too precious.”

  August winced. “You need to forget I told you.”

  “I’ll try my best. What’s with that?” She pointed to the mason jar in August’s hand.

  He tossed the jar filled with blue paint up in the air and caught it as if it were a baseball. “I’ve got an idea.”

  “An idea for what?”

  August tipped his head in the direction of the center building and began walking that way. “Let’s go make a mess in the mess hall.”

  Josie dropped her brush into a bucket and followed him inside the pristine building. White bathed the entire room in stark brightness with the windows, light fixtures, vents, and doors taped up with sheets of plastic.

  Biting his lip, August stopped in the middle of the room and turned in a complete circle before rearing his arm back and pitching the jar. In a loud pop, the jar collided with the wall and blue exploded against it. Shards of glass rained down with sprinkles of paint onto the cement floor. Both stood still, eyeing that paint-splattered wall and then the glass on the floor.

  Rubbing the day-old scruff on his cheek, August muttered, “Maybe I didn’t think this through enough.”

  Josie rolled her lips inward to stanch the laughter, but August noticed, so she let it bubble out. “Great concept, Bradford, but poor execution.”

  They lapsed into a pondering mode for a few beats until Josie snapped her fingers and headed for the door. “Clean up that glass while I’m gone.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “I have a better idea” was all she offered before skipping outside.

  August managed to get rid of the glass fail while he waited for Josie to return with her idea. Time crept by, and he began to think her idea had been to make a run for it. He was sitting cross-legged in the middle of the room with his chin propped in a hand, trying to figure out how to make a safer mess in the mess hall, when she appeared at the door holding the rope handles of a giant plastic tote. He hurried over to help her and peered inside as he lugged it into the room.

  “Water balloons?”

  Mischief swept along her lovely face as Josie leaned close and whispered, “Paint balloons.”

  August was already leaning in to steal a kiss, so he did just that before grinning. “Why didn’t I think of that?”

  A pretty flush eased onto her cheeks and he hoped his kiss was the reason. Clearing her throat, Josie muttered, “Safer and less to clean up after we make a mess.” She grabbed a purple balloon and hurled it in the direction of the blue splatter, sending a vivid burst of yellow to join it. Both adults giggled with excitement, sounding like children.

  August set the tote down and followed suit, throwing his balloon with enough force to send splatters of purple all the way to the ceiling. They set into an exuberant pace of tossing the balloons close enough to each other that sprays of paint coated them as well as the walls, ceiling, and floors. By the time the tote was empty, the room as well as the two artists were a hot mess of paint splatters in every color imaginable.

  “Umm . . .” Josie turned in a circle. “We have a problem.”

  August looked around, trying to see what his paint-speckled partner in crime was looking at. “What’s that?”

  “We’ve literally painted ourselves into not just a corner, but the center of the room!”

  “You’re absolutely right.” August flipped the plastic container over, careful not to disturb any splatters, and gestured for her to have a seat with him. “Let’s give it a little time to dry and then we’ll try to tiptoe out of here. We’re due a break, anyway.”

  They sat with their backs to each other and took in the now-lively space. Josie’s body relaxed against him. August loved how comfortable she’d become with him. They’d come quite a long way since that day he’d first walked into the diner.

  “The Knitting Club came in for breakfast yesterday,” Josie said after they’d been sitting in silence for a while.

  “Yeah?”

  “Yep. Miss Bertie insisted that I ask you about an estranged couple and a possible pregnancy.”

  August tilted his head and let out a roar of laug
hter. “They don’t waste any time, do they?”

  An elbow landed in his side. “What’d you do?”

  “I made up some hogwash so they’d get off my back about you.”

  Josie’s body went rigid against his. “What about me?”

  No one liked to be the focal point of the Knitting Club. Smiling to himself, August decided to goad her. “Oh, they were just implying that you’ll never go for the likes of someone like me.” He expected her to get flustered and start wiggling around, but he was pleasantly surprised when she did none of that. Instead, she reached behind her head and began combing her fingers through the hair along his neck. He was pretty sure she could feel the goose bumps rising along his skin underneath her touch.

  “I do believe we’ve proven their ridiculous implications wrong already.”

  August couldn’t contain the grin as she continued to comb through his hair. “I like proving those old broads wrong . . . They might have said something about you being too chicken to kiss me good and proper each time I visit you at the diner . . .”

  A playful smack tapped against the side of his head. “Now you’re pushing it, buddy.” Josie snickered, clearly amused by his flirting.

  Man, did he love making her laugh. Life could divvy out too many frowns and way too many tears, so he always viewed laughter as a gift that one should take advantage of as much as possible. If Josie would let go of some of her apprehension, he’d happily spend the remainder of his days supplying her with that gift and more.

  “Humph,” Josie said on a huff.

  “What?” He glanced over his shoulder at her and saw her pointing toward the kitchen doors.

  “I just realized there’s things taped on the walls.”

  “Oh yeah. They’re removable vinyl stickers. After the paint dries, we’ll remove them to reveal different shapes and words underneath. I think it’ll look pretty killer. A paint company is going to come in and seal the walls and floor afterward. That way the mess we made today will remain a mess.”

  “Humph,” she repeated. “I’m impressed by the thoughtfulness you’ve put into the details for this place.”

  “The glass jar was lame though.”

  “Just a technical hiccup we solved rather easily.” She pushed playfully against him.

  August returned the push but with less force. “We make a pretty good team, don’t ya think?”

  “I agree. What are the images and words, by the way?”

  “Now that you are just gonna have to wait and see.” He inhaled the favorable scent of wet paint and gazed at the intricate mess they’d pulled off, excited to see the finished product himself. “How’s your dad doing?”

  “He’s about the same. Standoffish, doing more and more of my duties, and snapping at me if I try doing them myself.” She released a pensive sigh. “I just don’t get it.”

  “Maybe he feels like he’s put too much on you.”

  “I keep trying to get him to talk to me, but he just keeps brushing me off.” Josie sighed and leaned heavily against him.

  August really liked the idea of being her strength, so he held his back a little tauter to be the support she needed. He also wanted to be so much more to her.

  Time, gotta give her time, he reminded himself.

  “That Jasper can be one stubborn man, like most men, I suppose,” August mused. “Just give him a little space. I’m sure he’ll come to you when he’s ready to share what’s bothering him. In the meantime, I’d like you to help me test out an art project I want to do in one of my art sessions this summer.”

  Josie’s posture stiffened, but it eased away almost instantly. “Okay.”

  August reached over his shoulder and ran his hand through her soft hair, feeling a damp spot here and there, knowing they’d both have a time getting rid of all the paint that had attached to their bodies during the paint balloon explosion. He didn’t mind it, though. It was a way of life for him and he knew he’d be bringing traces of paint with him to the grave one day. “I sure hope God lets me paint in heaven.”

  Josie stiffened again. “Where’d that come from?”

  “I don’t know. It just came across my mind. I love painting so much that I just hope it’s something I’m allowed to do for eternity.”

  Her head came to rest on his shoulder. “As long as you honor and worship God with it, I don’t see why he wouldn’t allow it in heaven.”

  “I honor and worship him with every art piece he allows me to create here on earth, so maybe I’m golden on it for heaven, too.”

  Josie’s giggle pressed against his spine, and it instantly became his most favorite feeling in the world.

  “I’m sure you are golden.” She giggled again and the feel of it embraced his heart.

  August wanted to tell her he was falling good and hard in love with her but asked instead, “You close tomorrow, correct?”

  “Yes.”

  “Since you don’t have to be up with the chickens in the morning, do you think you could stay out after dark for a little bit tonight?” A long drip of blue paint crawled a little farther down the wall in front of him, catching his eye.

  “Yes, but not too late,” she replied.

  “No ma’am. Not too late. Meet me here around eight.”

  They sat there and watched paint dry for a while longer, neither seeming to be in a rush to be free from the other. Eventually, they took their shoes off and followed a winding maze of unsplattered floor out the door on their tiptoes.

  Not wanting to let her go quite yet, August bumped his hip into hers as they strolled through the courtyard side by side. “You want to be let in on a secret?”

  A twinkle flashed through the blue of her eyes. “I have something I need to do here shortly, but I have a little time to spare, so sure.”

  “Hold tight.” August jogged toward the art building. “I just gotta grab some of the secret.” After scooping up a handful of clues, he grabbed a pen and the map he and Carter were using to log in the secret locations. He turned and found Josie by the door, looking on with curiosity.

  “What are you up to?”

  August held up the baubles and trinkets dangling from leather cords that were made up from stones, wooden medallions, feathers, and other similar whatnots. “I need your help hiding some clues around camp.”

  Josie took a step closer and surveyed the booty in his hand. “Where’d you get these?”

  “Tucker and I made them. Zachary helped some, too.” August took one and rubbed the wood medallion over a glob of orange clinging to the shoulder of her shirt. “Now we have a signature Josie clue.” He winked at her and wrapped each one around her neck. Even though her lovely face was camouflaged in flecks of the rainbow, he noticed the pink blooming along her cheeks. “I want to kiss you.”

  Josie blinked slowly and murmured, “Okay.”

  August didn’t linger long, just placed a sweet caress on her warm lips before taking a step away from her.

  She giggled and pointed toward him. “You have blue paint on your bottom lip now.”

  A deep groan worked its way loose from his throat. “I never want to wash it off. Nothing better than a painted-up kiss.” He winked after delivering the tease and decided it was time to put some space between them before he lost control and tried to swipe some more blue paint. He stepped outside into the bright sunshine. The more time he spent with Josie, the more vivid life became.

  “What exactly are these for?” Josie asked as she followed him toward the woods.

  August stopped at a low-hanging tree branch and handed her the map and pen and then pulled a trinket from around her neck. “We hide them throughout the camp. Campers have to identify at least six of them either by marking them on a copy of this map of the campgrounds or by snapping pics with their phones.” He reached up to pull down a branch and tied the clue securely around it before letting it spring skyward. He tapped the map. “Will you put an X right there?”

  Josie placed the X in the rightful spot and asked, “
And what is the prize?”

  “Random stuff. Camp T-shirts or hoodies, hats, phone cases, lanyards, drawstring bags . . .”

  They moved past the tree house cabins and ended up at a small chapel that resembled a kid’s playhouse.

  Josie gasped. “I had no idea this was out here. Y’all have treasures hidden everywhere.” She hurried inside with August following. The mini chapel held only four pews, but it was spectacular.

  “That’s the whole point in the hidden clues. It’s to motivate the campers into exploring the campgrounds instead of hanging out in the cabins during downtime.” August moved out the back door and tied a trinket over the doorframe.

  Josie watched him before making a note on the map. They did this for most of the next hour, moving from the chapel to a flower garden with a gazebo in the midst of it. After they left a clue underneath the vine-woven roof, August led her to a veranda that covered a nice-size cement slab. Giant plastic containers full of chalk seemed to be waiting for someone to wander along and doodle on the slab. Of course, Josie couldn’t resist grabbing a piece of chalk, and August couldn’t resist watching her as he tucked a clue in a shrub. She hummed out some unfamiliar tune while she drew dancing sunshine with orange-and-yellow swirls. He wanted to pick up a piece of chalk and join her, but the day was beginning to slip by too fast.

  “All right, young lady, I’d say we’re done for the day.” August folded the map, tucked it into his back pocket, and held his hand out to her. A thrill worked through him when Josie took it willingly.

  “I love all of the understated details y’all have put into this place,” Josie complimented once they returned to the art building.

  August gave her a warm smile as he put away the map for safekeeping. “All part of the plan.” He led her to the parking lot.

  “What plan?”

  “To make people fall for us.” August winked, placed a kiss on her paint-splattered cheek, and tucked her inside the truck. “Hurry home and get washed up. We have big plans for tonight.”

  “August, you have more charm than one person needs. You know that, right?” she teased, making him laugh.