by T. I. Lowe
As they kept yapping on and on about nothing of importance to him, August studied the group of plastic women. They were the same snooty clique who used to make fun of him and considered him nothing more than trash. Now they stood before him in some sort of hero-worship stance all because they thought he’d turned into a somebody. He’d been somebody way back then, bright hair and all, and he had no patience for shallow individuals who looked no further than outer appearances.
August pulled out a casual tone he wasn’t feeling to address them. “Look, ladies, we know I wasn’t your cup of tea back in school, and to be quite honest with you, you’re most definitely not mine. So how about y’all go cluck somewhere else.”
All four gasped and then transformed it into sucking their teeth, and he could barely refrain from raising his hands and shooing them away. A large shadow overtook him and seemed to be the final push the women needed to stomp away.
“That was impressively rude,” Lincoln said in a lazy drawl.
August looked over his shoulder and noticed a giant brace covering most of Lincoln’s left leg. He sent his eyes way up and rolled them. “They asked for it.” He waved to one of the empty chairs. “Have a seat.”
“Nah. Better not take my chances of being unable to get back up.”
August hadn’t taken into consideration how low the chairs were, so he stood and moved to stand beside Lincoln. “Leg giving you a fit today?”
“Yeah. Overdid it in PT, but no worries.” Lincoln shrugged. “What I am worried about is you not knowing how to woo a woman.”
“I ain’t got any desire to woo any woman like those I just chased off.” August crossed his arms and huffed. His patience for all women was at an all-time low at the moment.
“I’m not talking about them. I’m talking about that shy blonde over there.” Lincoln ticked his chin in Josie’s direction.
August rolled his neck and grunted. “Man, if you have a magic wooing potion that’ll work on that stubborn woman, by all means, hand it over.”
Lincoln let out a bark of laughter and clamped him on the shoulder. “I got nothin’.”
“Thanks for the help.” August was beginning to think nothing and no one was on his side when it came to Josie Slater.
“Let’s go fishing in the morning. That’ll cure ’bout anything that ails ya.”
“I’ll have to take a rain check.”
“Don’t be all pouty,” Lincoln goaded.
“I’m not. I have a flight to catch tomorrow.”
Lincoln took a hobbled step and turned until he was blocking August’s view of Josie. “You better be coming back.”
Frustration was coursing through August like hot lava, so the only reply he gave was a haughty jerk of his shoulders. When he kept his lips firmly pressed together, Lincoln imparted some stern words about keeping promises and then he limped away. Not long after that, his two brothers finally decided to rejoin him.
“Thanks a lot, you punks.”
“For what?” Tucker asked as he plopped into his chair.
“For leaving me to defend myself and for not even having enough decency to at least bring me an ice cream.”
“I told you we forgot something,” Tucker remarked to Zachary.
By then the ice cream cart was long gone and so was August’s appetite, anyway.
After it was all said and done, the boys ended up taking first place in the sand castle contest, but August felt far from a winner.
25
The three Sand Queens sat upon their thrones, aka lounge chairs, as the festivities continued on around them in the late afternoon. Some grills were cooling while others were just being lit. One band wrapped up their performance as another set up shop on a deck a few down from them. That was the beach life—one gathering morphed into another and seemed the party never completely concluded.
“I can’t believe we lost . . . We’ve never lost!” Sophia scoffed at the ill-fitting notion while adjusting her sun hat.
“August Bradford is being talked about as the next big thing in the art industry, honey. Are you seriously shocked?” Opal gave her friend a wry look as she poked Sophia’s leg with her teal toes that glittered just as sweetly as their sand castle had earlier.
“I suppose you’re right.” Sophia huffed and resettled in her chair. “Thank goodness Momma took Collin home with her. I needed this time-out.”
“How are things going?” Opal asked Sophia. When she received no answer, she prompted, “Come on, Sophia. Let’s talk about it.”
“There’s really nothing to say.” Sophia sniffed, saying more in that gesture than not. “I don’t know the man I married. . . . Do y’all think fame and fortune changed Ty that much? Or do you think it just revealed who he really was all along?”
“Are you referring to his overinflated ego?” Josie asked, never having had much use for Ty Prescott from day one. He’d always been too polished and too perfect in the beginning, like he was hiding something.
“I wish ego was the only problem.” Sophia sniffed again.
Opal exchanged a worried look with Josie before saying, “Sophia, there’s something you’re not telling us.”
Sophia sat straighter as her expression hardened, and before she even opened her mouth, Josie knew she was shutting the conversation down. “Nothing. I’m just in a sour mood.” She flicked her wrist as if that could shoo away her troubles. “Opal, you have any snacks in that giant bag?”
“Go ahead and brush it off all you want. Just know we’re here for you when you’re ready to talk about it.” Opal reached into her bag and began passing out saltwater taffy, adding something sweet to help chase the bitter away, as she liked to say.
Josie noticed Sophia’s frown was as severe as her own, so there wasn’t much hope in chasing the bitter away today.
“This is the biggest sham on the Grand Strand. People think it’s made from ocean water.” Sophia unwrapped the wax paper from her candy and gave it a good sniff before popping it into her mouth.
“It’s all about nostalgia. It doesn’t matter if this stuff was made up with only a pinch of salt and a little water. Stop being such a grump about everything.” Opal shook her head and chewed on her own piece. When Josie made no move to eat hers, Opal swiped it back and nearly growled. “And what’s wrong with you, Josie?”
Josie lifted a shoulder and huffed. “Y’all ever feel like a loser?”
Opal interjected a quick “Never.”
At the same time, Sophia supplied, “All the time.”
Opal scoffed. “Both of you need to straighten up. God didn’t make us to live down in the mouth.” Opal turned her attention to Josie. “Clearly August presented you with a challenge and you couldn’t hang.”
Josie snorted. “Thanks for that vote of confidence there.”
“You’re the one moping about it instead of proving to him you’re not a coward. From what I’ve gathered, he and your daddy only did what they did to give you the freedom to live out your dreams.” Opal stood up and gathered her bag.
“Where are you going?” Josie mumbled.
“It’s a holiday weekend that should be spent paying respect to the men and women who sacrificed their lives for our freedom. A freedom you two want to sit here and take for granted.” Opal began stomping away, light-auburn curls bouncing every which way.
“Where are you going?” Sophia hollered.
“Going to go make out with my husband as a thank-you for my freedom. Ya know, the war hero who almost died while rescuing others in a bombing. Linc had to go home to rest from overdoing it earlier, but he insisted I stay and spend time with my friends. Yet all you two have done is grouch and whine about ridiculous nonsense!” Before Opal disappeared past the sand dunes, she yelled over her shoulder, “I have had my fill of the both of you!”
“Guess we deserved that,” Sophia muttered.
“Yep . . .” Josie pushed out a long breath. “Sophia, I’m truly sorry for what you’re going through. All I know to tell you is
just give it some time to see if it works out. If it doesn’t, you know Opal and I will be here for you.”
“I know. Thanks . . .” Sophia reached over and patted Josie’s hands. “What do you plan on doing?”
Josie shrugged. “Stop being a fraidy-cat, I guess.”
“I think it’s time you had a heart-to-heart with your daddy. Clear the air between the two of you. That’s what your mom would have wanted.”
At the mention of her mom, a sting hit her nose and rose to her eyes. Sniffing it away, she stood. “You stay awhile and relax. I’m going to go see about hemming Daddy up in a corner and getting this mess straightened out.”
“Good for you.” Sophia squeezed Josie’s hand as she passed by. “Jolene would be so proud of you.”
Josie bent down and hugged her friend, saying a silent prayer that God would be able to fix whatever was broken. Sophia was too dynamic and too much of a go-getter to wear the ill-fitting look of defeat. “Remember I’m looking up to you . . . always looking up.” She gave Sophia a squeeze before letting go and heading in the direction of getting things straightened out in her own life—starting with her dad.
It wasn’t hard to find her dad considering it was Memorial Day weekend. He had his grill set up on the diner’s deck and was grilling burgers, bratwursts, and hot dogs for any veteran who came by. Locals would wander up on the deck and swipe food too, but Jasper never minded.
Josie took a seat in one of the Adirondack chairs and watched him chat up several locals.
“Jo-Jo, you want a burger or bratwurst?” Jasper asked as he served up a burger for an elderly man.
“Bratwurst, please.” She decided to allow him to reach out with an edible olive branch. It would give her time to gather her words and calm her nerves. She was never one to have a confrontation with her dad, and the idea of doing it then didn’t feel right but needed.
She accepted the plate he passed to her and ate slowly and quietly until the deck only held the two of them. “Dad, can we talk now?”
Jasper sighed. “Jo-Jo, I’m sorry.”
“For what?” She dropped the half-eaten sausage onto the paper plate and set it aside.
“After your mom . . .” He cleared his throat and concentrated on flipping the burgers for a moment. “After she passed, I was just so lost. You’re all I had and I clung to you.” He shook his head. “I should have never held you here. Should have forced you to go on to college, but . . .”
“Dad, we both did what we had to do then. It was for the best.” Josie knew deep down it was the right choice.
“Yeah, but it’s been six years and I’ve been too chicken to let you go.” His eyes reddened as a waft of smoke rose from the grill. Blinking several times, he moved the patties away from the direct flame.
“And I’ve been too chicken to let you.” Josie stood and moved over to help him plate the burgers. “Seems I’m a lot like my daddy.”
They gave each other a wobbly smile before Josie slid her attention over and regarded the weathered diner. Even though Mother Nature had stomped up the beach a time or two over the years and pitched quite a hissy fit on occasion, Driftwood Diner always held its ground. The place fit her daddy to a T and she wanted to be more like him in that aspect as well.
“August told me about offering you an opportunity to work with the camp. I think it’s something you shouldn’t pass up. Jo-Jo, I honestly forgot how talented of an artist you are until I saw those pictures of the bus you helped him paint. Sweetheart, you’re really good.” His eyes rounded as he nodded his head, looking right impressed and downright cute in Josie’s opinion.
She leaned into his side and placed her head on his shoulder. “I love you, Daddy.”
“Love you too, baby girl.”
“What am I going to do?” she mused out loud, thinking about how peeved August was with her earlier. Clearly he’d reached his patience limit with her wishy-washy attitude.
“You’re going to help me settle Marta in and then you’re going to show that boy you’re worthy of that position at the camp.”
“Yes, sir.” It sounded easy enough, but Josie knew she had some work ahead of her. She lifted her head and turned to leave.
“Jo-Jo.”
She glanced over her shoulder. “Yes, sir?”
“We both know August is a fine feller. Don’t take our mess out on him. He just wants to see you happy.”
“Why you reckon he cares so much?” She gripped the railing.
Jasper scoffed. “’Cause that boy loves you. You love him too, don’t ya?”
Josie bobbed her head and moved down the stairs. She decided it was also time to show August just how much he meant to her. That was, if she hadn’t already ruined things with him.
It took three days to find enough courage to go see August. Josie put her pride to the side and drove out to the firehouse on a sunny afternoon. As she parked in her usual spot, an eerie feeling of arriving to where she belonged washed over her. She shrugged it off and headed over to the dark-haired guy pushing a noisy lawn mower along the side yard. Although he was tall with a head full of black hair, the guy was on the lanky side and that hair was a bit too shaggy to be the one she was seeking.
Tucker waved before shutting the mower off and heading in her direction. “Hey, Josie. What’s up?”
“Hey. I came to see August.” She looked around, hoping he would appear.
“Oh, well, he’s in New York until next week.” Tucker wiped his brow with the hem of his soggy T-shirt.
“New York?”
“Yeah. He brought some more paintings up there and some fancy people wanted to talk to him about commissioning a few pieces.” Tucker gestured over to where the rocking chairs were slowly rocking in the humid breeze, reminding Josie of that day dancing in the rain. He grabbed up a bottle of water and gestured toward it to see if Josie wanted one as well, but she shook her head.
“Do you really think your brother will stay around here?” She waved a hand around, thinking the country fields and small woods were too small to contain such an extraordinary soul as August Bradford.
Tucker took a long pull from his bottle of water and plopped down in one of the rocking chairs. “Oh yeah. He’s here to stay.”
Josie took a seat beside him and gathered a long, satisfying inhale, loving the sweet smell of freshly mowed grass. “How can you be so sure?”
“Because he promised me,” Tucker answered in a matter-of-fact tone.
Josie glanced at the teenage boy, thinking he might have been a bit naive. “But sometimes life presents unexpected challenges or opportunities that you can’t control. What if someone makes him an offer he can’t refuse?”
“Then you don’t know August very well.” They rocked in silence for a spell until Tucker looked over at Josie and asked, “Can I share something with you?”
“Sure.”
“I know I was pretty young when . . . it happened and we had to move in with our grandpa, but I remember things. We were left alone most of the time and his house was right beside a bar. Things would get rowdy sometimes. I was only like four, so it scared me. August promised me each time things got crazy in the middle of the night that we would be okay.”
An ache settled in Josie’s chest from just thinking about what those boys had to go through. “I’m glad you had August.”
“Me too. He also promised me he’d find us a new family. One that would want us.” Tucker’s voice grew raspy on the last part. Clearing his throat, he grabbed up the bottle of water and drained it. “Everybody thinks the Bradfords just found out about us and took us in, but what no one knows is August went fishing for them.” Tucker’s lips hitched into a crooked smile, looking uncannily like his older brother.
“How’d he go fishing for parents?”
“Nan was holding job interviews one of those days we went looking for food. August swiped one of the applications, filled it out, and requested an interview with both her and Derek.” Tucker chuckled, but Josie could hard
ly breathe. She’d never had to go looking for food, but here the young man sitting beside her mentioned it so casually like it was totally normal.
Josie tried to do a quick calculation of his age at the time. “He was what, eleven or twelve? She couldn’t give him a job.” She watched as the breeze picked up and sent a blade of grass that was nestled in Tucker’s dark locks flying off.
“He wasn’t seeking a job. Derek has told me this part ’cause I was too young to remember. But anyway, August sat in their office as they reviewed his application. The line where you are to put the position you’re applying for, August wrote son. Scribbled my name beside it, too.”
“Oh, Tucker—” A sheen of tears blurred her view of his face, but Josie still noticed there wasn’t a lick of self-pity in his features. Only pride for his older brother.
“Derek said August looked him square in the eyes and told him it was ridiculous for them to own a six-bedroom house for only two people. Said we would gladly take two of those rooms off their hands. And in return he would keep their house clean and the yard work done. He promised the Bradfords that day he would do whatever it took to secure us the positions as their sons.”
They grew quiet again, Josie unable to say anything and Tucker being enough of a gentleman not to draw any attention to her crying. Her entire body hurt from what he’d just shared. She couldn’t fathom a twelve-year-old boy being brave enough to go out looking for a proper family for him and his brother and then promising to do anything he had to in order to secure a healthier life for them.
Tucker cleared his throat after a while. “So when you asked me how I can be so sure about him not leaving, this is why. August never makes a promise unless he knows he can keep it. He promised me he’s here to stay, and I take the guy at his word.”
Josie wiped her damp cheeks and nodded.
“And that mess of him acting like a mouthy fool on the beach the other day . . . that ain’t like him. You just had him riled up. He didn’t mean it.” The teenager’s dark-blue eyes lit up with humor.
“He sounded like he meant it.” Josie offered a watery laugh.