Beach Haven

by T. I. Lowe

  “Well, ain’t that great. Sure is good to have you home.” Jasper nodded his head, agreeing with his own statement.

  August returned the nod. “It’s great to be back. I was right homesick.”

  “I bet that uncle is gonna have you busy with the camp, too.”

  August let out another throaty chuckle. “Oh yeah. The list is a mile long, but I’m pretty stoked to be helping.”

  “What’s the name of it again?”

  “Palmetto Fine Arts Camp. We’re scheduled to open the second week in June.”

  “You boys only got two months to get it together then.”

  Josie watched as August’s eyes shifted from the chatty man and caught her peeping out the door. He bit the corner of his lip before looking back to her dad. “The camp construction is complete. All we have to do is go in and put our stamp on the place.”

  The two men talked a few more minutes with Josie only catching snippets of their conversation until a few groups cleared out and were quickly replaced by new customers. She knew her reprieve was about to come to an end.

  “I know you ain’t in here just to see my purty mug. You want biscuits and gravy and apple-stuffed pancakes.”

  August grinned. “Yes, sir. I’m hanging out with my kid brothers this morning, so I’ll need three orders, please.”

  “I better make it four, then. Those boys know how to eat. I’ll get it going.” Jasper turned his head in the direction Josie thought she was hiding. “Jo-Jo, get on out here and serve August a cup of coffee.”

  Josie nearly jumped out of her skin at the mention of her own name, making the door bang against the side of her forehead.

  “She all right?” Josie heard August ask as she worked on rubbing the sting away.

  “Who knows with that girl? Probably just hormonal or something.” Jasper waved off August’s concern and shuffled into the kitchen.

  “Kill me dead now,” she mumbled to herself, mortified.

  “You ain’t got time to be dead.” Jasper gave his daughter a stern look, leaving no room for argument as he pointed to the door. “Get out there. Now.”

  Embarrassed and flustered as she was, Josie somehow managed to make her way out of the kitchen and over to the coffeepot. She poured a cup and placed it on the distressed-wood countertop in front of August without spilling a drop.

  “Thanks.” August lifted the cup in her direction before taking a sip.

  “Thank you,” she replied, feeling foolish. Thank you? She followed it up by blurting out more idiocy. “I’m welcome.” After all these years, how could August Bradford still make her so tongue-tied and rattled? She was a grown woman, for crying out loud.

  August was decent enough not to call her out on her jumbled response. The only reaction he offered to her word folly and twitchy behavior was a wry smile, which he covered graciously with the coffee cup.

  His free hand smoothed over one of the planks. “I’ve always loved these countertops.”

  He seemed to be waiting for her to respond, but her eyes were fastened on the planks with her mouth pressed in a tight line. Some of the boards were naturally grayed, while others had light washes of white or teal. It was one of the last projects she had completed with her mom. Of course, her dad had grumbled at first but relented when they hauled in all of the reclaimed wood and set out to renovating the entire counter space, lengthening it enough to accommodate ten mismatched wooden barstools Opal helped them find.

  Josie’s eyes unlatched from the counter and flickered around the dining hall, where a collection of rustic pieces of art—mostly fashioned from driftwood, seashells, and anything else that had washed up on shore—hung on the weathered shiplap walls. Several weathered signs hung precariously about as well. One of Josie’s favorites stated, Time near the coast doesn’t move by the hour; it moves by the currents, plans by the tides, and follows the sun.

  The diner was a relaxed space, inviting people to come on in whether they had shoes or not, but it no longer held that comfort for Josie. Not one new piece of art had been added since that awful life storm turned her and her dad’s life upside down.

  Blinking the memory away as best she could before it blinded her, she managed a somber nod before moving to the other end of the counter to refill another patron’s cup of coffee.

  She kept busy with taking orders, ringing customers up, and checking on Dalma. At one point, from the corner of her eye, she caught August swiping a postcard from the stand beside the register. On the front of the card, intended for tourists, was a picture of the diner with blue skies and ocean waves in the background. After grabbing a stray pen from the counter, he began doodling something. As curious as Josie was, she willed herself not to look over and inspect it.

  Thankfully, August’s take-out order came up shortly. Before she could key it in the register, her dad interrupted.

  “It’s on the house.”

  August shook his head and fished out the wallet from the side pocket of his blue board shorts. “No, no. Let me pay.”

  “Nonsense. This is my welcome-home gift.” Jasper made a show of pushing the bag containing the foam carryout containers into August’s reluctant hands. “Don’t you dare be rude like that, boy.”

  Admitting defeat, August put away his wallet and accepted the bag. “Yes, sir. I appreciate it.”

  “You hitting the surf today?” Jasper asked, wiping his hand along the grease-stained apron.

  “That was the plan, but the water is like glass.” August stood up from the stool. “You gotta go surfing with me sometime.”

  Jasper cackled at the idea and slapped the pronounced O of his belly. “It’s been too many years and way too many shrimp burgers for that.”

  “Nah, man. It’s never too anything to pursue what you love.” August fixed Josie with a meaningful look. “It was good seeing y’all.”

  “You too.” Jasper easily sent the polite remark back while Josie stood beside him in her mute state. She had not uttered an intelligible word directly to him the entire time. “And tell your folks I said hey.”

  “Will do.” August spoke to Jasper but his eyes remained on Josie, like he was waiting for something. When she remained silent, he appeared to give up whatever he’d hoped for and turned to leave. The Knitting Club began calling out to him, but he was smart enough to only give them a gentlemanly nod and brief wave. Before he made it completely out the door, Opal blocked his path. The shimmering halo of blonde-tipped auburn curls floated every which way as she did her little clap-and-hop dance at the sight of August.

  Josie tried not to stare as August and Opal exchanged what looked like pleasantries. The friendly pair laughed at one point with Opal patting his arm.

  Opal was an artist in her own right, who took what most people considered junk and restored it into newer, more unique pieces that she sold from her downtown store, Bless This Mess. Back in their youth, Josie and Opal had taken art classes with August at school as well as a few at the community center. Opal was social enough to befriend him, and Josie had been too awkward to do anything but admire him from afar.

  Evidently time hadn’t changed some things.

  “I’ll be by sometime this week,” August’s deep voice rang out as he headed outside, much to Josie’s relief.

  Opal nodded and waved before skipping over to the counter with a sweet smile on her fairylike face. Dressed in a peasant blouse, long skirt, and thick Birkenstocks, she was the epitome of cool and calm in the middle of the stuffy restaurant.

  Even with several ceiling fans rotating overhead, sweat dewed along Josie’s brow. She brushed away a damp lock of blonde hair that was beginning to stick there and mumbled, “Hey.”

  “Isn’t it wonderful August has finally made his way home?” Opal’s green eyes sparkled with enthusiasm.

  “Umm . . .” Josie busied herself with wiping down the already-clean counter until Opal snickered. “What?”

  “You still don’t know how to come to terms with your crush on that man, do you?�
� Opal snickered again.

  “I’m too old to have a crush on anyone. And who says I ever had one on him?” Josie’s cheeks lit with knowing she’d just told two fibs. By the smirk on her friend’s face, she could tell Opal knew it too.

  “You’re twenty-five years old . . . Keep telling yourself that,” Opal said as she scooted behind the counter and helped herself to a glass of sweet tea as she had been doing for as long as Josie could remember. She then moved over and settled on the stool in front of the cash register. Her first sip almost sputtered all over the clean counter as she picked up the postcard and turned it for Josie to see. “Seems you’re not the only one!”

  Eyes wide in shock, Josie took in the simple yet astonishingly accurate sketch of her silhouette. She was amazed that a plain ink pen was used to create such a rendering and that a fifty-cent postcard served as the canvas.

  “Oh, my goodness . . .” The wild beating of her heart started up again and the oxygen to her lungs was so sparse she grew pure dizzy.

  “Are you also too old for love letters?” Opal pointed to the scribbling underneath the drawing. Untie your tongue and give me a call sometime. Along with the simple one-line note, August included his number.

  “Humph . . .” Josie paced behind the counter while Opal sat on the stool in all her coolness.

  Suddenly the Sand Queens’ upcoming get-together felt foreboding. Opal and Sophia would have quite a fun time at her expense. They were like sisters, which meant they were loyal but loved to rib one another.

  Exasperated, Josie left her friend at the counter, marched straight outside and plunged herself into the ocean. No, not really, but she sure did consider it.

  DISCUSSION

  QUESTIONS

  Beach Haven is not only the book’s title but also the name of Opal’s beach house. What haven do Lincoln and Opal find during the course of the story?

  Hurricane Lacy wreaks havoc on the town of Sunset Cove. What role does the storm and the rebuilding in the aftermath play in the plot?

  Opal uses her quirkiness and eccentricity as a shield from what? In what ways can you relate to this?

  The Carolina Coast series is centered around the loyal friendships among the Sand Queens and, to a lesser extent, the Knitting Club. Compare and contrast these two groups. Do you have a close group of friends such as this?

  The author enjoys infusing comic relief into her stories. Does any particular scene from this book come to mind?

  Brokenness is a common theme throughout Beach Haven: Lincoln’s injury, which left him unable to fulfill his duties as a soldier; Opal’s occupation of repairing and repurposing damaged furniture; the destruction and rebuilding of Opal’s store. How do these fit together to form a new purpose for Lincoln’s and Opal’s lives?

  Opal openly presents Lincoln with seashells and prayers (“wishes”) on his behalf. In contrast, she presents her faith to him in more subtle ways. How can using subtlety sometimes have a bigger impact on someone than being more obvious?

  At first glance, Lincoln is an ornery man with a harsh exterior. What are some instances that come to mind where he lets that slip away enough to reveal the tenderness and vulnerability hidden behind it?

  Even though Lincoln’s leg injury and his relationship with his father are both repaired, how did they change him? How does he finally come to appreciate these new changes to his life?

  The next book in the series is Driftwood Dreams. It centers around Josie and August. From what you’ve learned about them in Beach Haven, where do you see their story heading? What do you look forward to discovering in the next book?

  NOT OPAL’S

  CRAB BISCUITS

  Ingredients:

  2 cups Bisquick

  ¼ cup (½ stick) unsalted butter

  ⅔ cup milk

  ¼ cup shredded cheese

  16 ounces lump crabmeat

  Topping:

  ¼ cup (½ stick) unsalted butter, melted

  ½ teaspoon garlic salt

  ¼ teaspoon Old Bay seasoning

  ½ teaspoon parsley

  Preheat oven to 450°. Combine Bisquick and butter, using a knife or pastry cutter. Mix in milk and cheese, then fold in crabmeat. Drop by heaping spoonfuls onto a baking sheet. Bake 10–12 minutes until golden brown. Meanwhile, mix topping ingredients. Spoon mixture over freshly baked biscuits and enjoy!

  Makes 12.

  These babies are pretty tasty on their own, but they are even better when served with a rémoulade made by combining the following ingredients:

  ½ cup mayonnaise

  ¼ cup sour cream

  1 tablespoon Dijon mustard

  ¼ cup spicy relish or a relish of your choice

  1 teaspoon garlic puree

  2 tablespoons chopped chives

  Salt and pepper to taste

  A NOTE FROM

  THE AUTHOR

  I have a collection of accessories, as most of you probably do. Earrings, necklaces, bracelets, rings, scarves . . . I love the collection and the options I have to complement various outfits. But I have a few pieces that complement anything, and I rarely take them off: my wedding ring and a pair of small diamond stud earrings. Both are expressions of my husband’s love for me.

  I view relationships in a similar light. Friends should complement your life and never take away from it. I worry that so many women don’t understand this nowadays and have dressed their lives with toxic relationships. For this reason, I created the Sand Queens and the Knitting Club for the Carolina Coast series.

  The Knitting Club is the older group of ladies. I had such a blast writing these zany characters, but they have a serious purpose. From six to twelve members, depending on what day of the week it is and who is available to attend their gatherings, I view this group as your wider accessory collection. Not every piece will pair well with every “outfit”—every moment in life—but when they do, watch out! Perfection! I have a similar group of friends who are always there at the right moment, no matter how much time passes between visits. We have busy lives that lead us in different directions, but when we do meet up, it’s always a gift.

  Then there are the Sand Queens. This tight-knit group is there through thick and thin, complementing any and every moment you find yourself in. They are my wedding band and diamond earrings, always present and highly valuable in love and loyalty. This friendship consists of only a few women who are closer than sisters. In this series, you will see how Opal, Josie, and Sophia each bring a unique quality to their friendship that complements the others.

  Opal brings liveliness and provides you with courage to step out of your comfort zone. She’s the one pushing you to take a chance and there to cheer you on all the way.

  Josie is the shy yet tenderhearted one. Ready to hold your hand and cry with you. She is a quiet force behind the scenes.

  Sophia is the voice of reason. She will talk you off the ledge and then give you a much-needed straightening out after it’s all said and done. She is fiercely loyal and ready to go to bat for you.

  I’m blessed with a Knitting Club and a Sand Queens group of friends, both important in their own way. I encourage you to identify your groups, seeking healthy relationships to complement your life.

  Thank you for taking the time to get to know the groups in Beach Haven. I can’t wait to share more of them with you in the next books!

  BEACH HAVEN

  PLAYLIST

  “Bless the Broken Road”

  by Rascal Flatts

  “Leave the Night On”

  by Sam Hunt

  “Sway”

  by Danielle Bradbery

  “The Long Way”

  by Brett Eldredge

  “Hard Love”

  by NEEDTOBREATHE

  “In Case You Didn’t Know”

  by Brett Young

  “Prodigal”

  by Sidewalk Prophets

  “A Country Boy Can Survive”

  by Hank Williams Jr.

  “Boy”
r />   by Lee Brice

  “Simple Man”

  by Lynyrd Skynyrd

  “Stars”

  by Skillet

  “Small Town Boy”

  by Dustin Lynch

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  I’m sure you’ve heard the saying “It takes a village to raise a child.” I’ve come to understand that it takes the village of Tyndale House Publishers to guide this author in the traditional publishing world. I know I am in good hands. I’m so thankful for Karen Watson, Jan Stob, Amanda Woods, Elizabeth Jackson, Andrea Garcia, Maria Eriksen, and the entire Tyndale family.

  So . . . there’s one village member I must address all on her own. Quite frankly, this woman struck fear in me with her vision for this book series. My editor, Kathy Olson, came to me with the suggestion of changing the order of the books after I’d written them. First reaction: Oh no, ma’am! But I’m glad I took a breath before responding and chose to take her up on this challenge, because the stories have become so much more as a result, and I’m beyond proud of their messages. Thank you, Kathy, for challenging me to approach the process of writing differently and to keep an open mind.

  I love, love to write, but so much more goes into it behind the scenes. I am grateful to my wonderful agent, Danielle Egan-Miller, for handling the business part of creating stories so that I can enjoy the fun part. You have no idea how great a burden you have lifted off my shoulders, Danielle. I truly appreciate your tenacity and enthusiasm for my dream and guiding it to become my reality.

  My family has to put up with me, and that is one monstrous task when I am engrossed in my creative world. I am thankful that Bernie, Nathan, and Lydia have never complained about my absentmindedness or distraction during writing bouts. Support and encouragement is what they’ve offered. I’m blessed to be on Team Lowe. Love y’all.