Driftwood Dreams

by T. I. Lowe

  “Are you going to let me in?” Dominica held up the basket again.

  Giving in, Josie opened the door and led Dominica into the kitchen. She poured them both a glass of milk and grabbed a handful of napkins. Without pause they dug into the treats, savoring the crunchy exterior of the fried dough that gave way to a soft, gooey texture inside.

  “These are so good,” Josie moaned out while popping another into her mouth.

  “Good enough to forgive Carter?” Dominica looked up with hope lighting her face.

  “I guess, but I just don’t get why he thought he needed to come up with such an elaborate story like that.” Josie shook her head. “Seriously, he said August had been in an accident. That’s not something someone should joke around about.”

  “You’re right.” Dominica set her glass down and grew serious. “One thing you need to understand about Carter is that if you’re blessed to be loved by that man, there’s nothing he wouldn’t do for you.”

  “Even coming up with elaborate fibs?” Josie crossed her arms, not buying the excuse Dominica was selling.

  “You know August’s story. The guy has survived an awful lot of bad and chosen to rise above it. He and Carter have this bond that I’ve never witnessed before. August has jumped through some pretty big, selfless hoops for Carter. He’s the reason why I’m with Carter in the first place. So to answer your question, yes, Carter would tell you hundreds of far-fetched stories if it meant making August happy.”

  “Carter could have been straightforward instead of fibbing, though.” Josie tightened her crossed arms, trying to gather some defense.

  Dominica brushed it away as easily as the crumbs from the front of her shirt. “Go ahead and have yourself a hissy fit. Carter deserves it, but don’t take it out on August.”

  Josie’s arms dropped, realizing Dominica knew more to the story than just the fib Carter told.

  “I was working in the music building when you came up yesterday . . . You were pretty loud.” Dominica offered an apologetic smile.

  Feeling foolish, Josie closed her eyes and let out an uneven sigh. “Oh.”

  “It’s none of my business what’s going on with you, but since it deals with a very special person in my life, I can’t help but get in the middle of it.”

  “I’m good with Carter. Just tell him to keep his stories to himself from now on.” Josie rose and began clearing the table. She’d had enough of the visit and wanted to go back to sulking alone.

  “I’m not talking about Carter.”

  Josie placed the glasses in the sink and looked over at Dominica where she continued to sit. She didn’t look to have any plans of being rushed out the door. Josie stayed silent, waiting for the woman to explain.

  “Can I share something with you?” Dominica asked.

  “Sure.” Josie didn’t think she had a choice in the matter, anyway.

  “If you’re as important to August as I suspect, then you can count on being important to Carter, too.” Dominica motioned toward the basket. “He doesn’t do something like this for just anyone.”

  “Why is Carter so adamant about me helping with the camp?”

  “Do you know about my sickness?”

  “Some.” In Josie’s eyes, Dominica was the picture of health, except for her slower movements and her low weight.

  “I have lupus and it’s set off several other health problems. One being, I’m unable to have children.”

  The sudden heaviness of the conversation had Josie returning to her chair and plopping down. “Oh.”

  “Due to the limitations with my autoimmune disease, I feel like it wouldn’t be fair to adopt a child and have them stuck with a sick parent.”

  “Aww, Dominica, you shouldn’t look at it that way.” Josie’s heart hurt for the woman sitting across from her.

  Dominica raised a palm and released a sad chuckle. “You sound like Carter, but this disease will progress and so . . .” She took a deep breath and let it out on a long sigh. “We’ve participated in summer ministry programs for years now, helping with praise services. Before my diagnosis, I had already reached the point where I couldn’t keep up with traveling any more, but I missed working with children so much. I told Carter, and the next thing I know that man is building a camp.” Her laughter was filled with amusement this time.

  “The camp is for you?” Josie’s eyes began to burn with tears.

  Dominica nodded her head. “We love working with children, and this passion project has become Carter’s heart and soul, so of course, it’s August’s heart and soul. And if those two want you to be a part of that . . . I don’t want to sound arrogant, but I say this with humbleness and respect that you should be honored. I know I’m honored to be included in being a part of this camp. Both of those men are rough around the edges, but you won’t find two more loyal men.”

  Dominica quietly left after that, leaving Josie with a lot to think about.

  Dominica’s words nagged Josie the entire shift at the diner and followed her home that night, where it continued. Josie didn’t understand why she somehow ended up mattering to August, much less Carter and Dominica, but it was humbling and intimidating all at once. She worried she’d already messed things up, though.

  August’s last words to her played on a reel every time she awoke that fitful night.

  “Thank you for the help, but I think I’m good.”

  By dawn, Josie knew for certain that she wasn’t good with being done with whatever mission he was on. August simply needed an art partner and had graciously asked her to be a part of designing the camp, and she showed her appreciation by taking her hurt and frustration out on him.

  “Talk about a drama queen,” Josie muttered to herself as she slipped out of the rumpled bed. As painful as it was, she knew what she had to do. By the time Josie was dressed, the sky had opened up and let loose a thick rainstorm. Tossing on a raincoat and a pair of galoshes, Josie set out in the direction of trying to right her wrong.

  She parked the truck in the spot she already considered her own in front of the firehouse and spotted August sitting in a rocking chair by the open bay doors. She sat in the truck for a moment, watching him stare out over the fields. When he finally looked her way, she worked up enough nerve to flip the hood of the coat up and make a run for it.

  Without a word, August stretched out a long leg and hooked it under the leg of another rocking chair and pulled it close beside his, a silent invite to sit. Josie shrugged out of the dripping wet coat, tossed it on the cement floor, and sat down. They rocked in an amicable silence and watched as the thick curtain of rain cast a foggy haze to the world just past the firehouse.

  From her periphery, Josie noticed a soggy bag of boiled peanuts on one of his jean-clad thighs. True to form, a smear of white paint marked near the left knee of the pants. She wondered if he owned a single stitch of clothing that didn’t have at least a speckle of paint on it. She watched as he lifted the glass bottle of cola that was wedged between his legs and took a sip. “Breakfast of champions?”

  After August cracked open another shell and popped the peanuts into his mouth, he reached down beside his chair and produced a plastic container of plump red strawberries. “Got these too. Balanced meals are important, you know.”

  His light tone gave no hint of the hurt he had shown two days ago, so Josie decided to pretend it didn’t happen as well.

  “Looks like someone made a trip to the farm stand up the road this morning.”

  “Reminds me of backpacking around Europe. I either stayed in hotels or couch surfed, so I never really had access to a kitchen. Just went out and picked up fresh food from town vendors and open-air markets when I got hungry. Makes me appreciate that benefit here now.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want to go back?”

  “Yeah. Country living is for me. That’s why I didn’t find a place at the beach.” He motioned to the only neighbors he had for miles, the trees and fields. “God’s beauty is the kind of inspiration I
need to feed my creativity. The silence out here whispers to me all the time.”

  “What does it tell you?” she asked.

  August tilted his head toward the open door. “Listen for a while. You’ll see.”

  They shared the breakfast of boiled peanuts as the pattering of raindrops effectively drowned out the world beyond the bay doors. Or maybe that’s just the effect from being in August’s company, Josie thought. She reflected on her time with him and found that to be closer to the truth. Smiling, she swiped another handful of the warm peanuts and began opening the shells. August even allowed her a few swigs of his cola to wash the salty goodness down before indulging in the fresh strawberries.

  “You can almost taste the sunshine in these berries.” Josie licked the red juice from her fingers and moaned.

  “Mm-hm,” August agreed. He ate a few more before placing the container between their chairs. After a few more languid rocks of his chair, August spoke again. “I have a memory for you.”

  Excited to have him share anything with her, she dropped the green top of an eaten strawberry into the paper bag holding the peanut hulls. “Okay.”

  “Playtime at the inlet behind Nan and Derek’s restaurant.”

  That simple statement set free a deluge of memories that poured out faster than the rain clouds above them. “Oh, I love those memories.”

  “Nan giving us treats and sweet tea.”

  Josie snickered. “Momma and Daddy were always scolding me for ruining my appetite from eating too many treats.”

  “Ah, now this is where the memory is different for us.”

  Josie looked over, confused by his statement, and found August wearing a somber expression. “How so?”

  “That was never a snack for me and Tucker. We depended on that for a meal.” He glanced briefly in her direction before going back to staring at the rain.

  In Josie’s childhood memory, she only saw a bunch of local kids goofing around the inlet, chasing after crabs and being offered a little treat from the restaurant. His admittance had the memory looking completely different all of a sudden. “August . . .” She didn’t know what to say.

  He shrugged. “My parents had a nasty drug habit, among other things. They got tangled up in something awful, and when they were arrested, my mom’s father was given custody of us. He made it clear he didn’t want us, told me to take care of Tucker and stay out of his way. I did what I had to do to make that happen. Tucker was starting the Head Start program at the elementary school and our schools had different times, so I had to drop out for a little while to make sure he got to go. I’d do odd jobs like mowing lawns or picking up garbage while he was at school to make some grocery money, but sometimes it wasn’t enough.”

  The whooshing of rain kept time with the roar in Josie’s ears as her eyes began to sting. Without pause, tears formed to wash it away. They rocked in silence for another short spell as she understood the importance of him sharing the memory from his side of life.

  The other day, she kept insisting he didn’t understand her duty to her dad and why she had to make sacrifices. Now she realized just how foolish she’d been with her thinking.

  Clearing his throat, August said, “That’s why I was twenty years old when I graduated high school. I felt awkward being so much older than the rest of y’all most of the time, but not enough to let my dreams get thrown away because of it. Life has given me moments I wish weren’t mine, but I’ve never allowed them to define me or prevent me from living beyond the memory of it . . . Perhaps you should try doing the same.”

  She reached over and entwined her fingers with his where they were gripping the arm of his chair. “I admire your tenacity, truly. I’m really sorry for taking my issues out on you the other day. That wasn’t fair.”

  “Can we have a redo?” August flipped his hand over and gently held hers.

  “How?”

  “Tell me what’s really bothering you.”

  She focused on the ribbons of water pouring down in front of them. “Tomorrow is Mother’s Day.” That one admittance had more tears flowing. “I know it’s been six years and I should be over it—”

  “Jo, losing your mom is something you never get over.” His grip tightened around her hand and he allowed her to cry for a while before asking, “How do you normally spend Mother’s Day?”

  Josie swallowed, trying to regain her composure. “I teach my class and try to get them to understand how important it is to appreciate their moms and to show them how much they love them.” She hitched a shoulder up. “Then I normally bring Miss Dalma a gift before going home and hiding under the covers the rest of the day.” She waited for him to balk at that and reprimand her for hiding, but he only nodded his head and kept watching the rain come down in heavy sheets.

  “Can I share another memory with you?” August asked.

  “Okay.”

  “As you know, Tucker and I had a messy childhood. My parents would wander off days at a time or have shady people over.” He looked over and met Josie’s eyes. “I’d sneak Tucker out and we’d go fishing. If the weather was nice, we’d camp out on the bank and pretend life at home didn’t exist. It was a sad and scary time, and after my parents were incarcerated, it got worse, so I would tell Tucker we could fish our blues away.”

  “You want to take me fishing?” she asked even though her heart was aching for what he just shared about his and Tucker’s childhood.

  “Not this time. This time we are going to dance.” Without releasing Josie’s hand, August stood and pulled her to standing with him. “Josie, I’m not saying there won’t be times where you’ll feel sad, but I’d like nothing better than if you’d allow me to dance that sadness away.” He didn’t wait for her response before pulling her into the shower of rain.

  Josie squealed as the cool rain soaked them immediately, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, she allowed him to dance her around in the rain. The first part of the dance, she buried her face against his neck and grieved for her mother, thinking perhaps she’d never allowed herself to do that properly. The tears flowed until the rain and August’s comfort washed them away with a peace replacing the mournful trembling of her body.

  August seemed to sense when the heaviness left her, which was about the same time the rain eased into just a drizzle. He began stepping up the pace of the slow dance, transforming it into a familiar dance she hadn’t witnessed in years.

  “You know how to do the Carolina shag?” Josie watched him in awe.

  “Of course. We live on the Grand Strand, don’t we?”

  “Yes, but I don’t know how.”

  “No worries. I’ll teach you.” His lips curved into a broad smile as he swung them around in the lazy six-count dance pattern until Josie got the hang of the steps.

  “You are full of surprises.” She giggled, taking a wrong step but correcting it quickly. The man managed to be her sunshine in the midst of the heavy clouds, making her long to just bask in it indefinitely.

  August pulled her close and lowered his voice even though it still rang out in a sturdy timbre. “Every time it rains, you’re going to think about this moment—you wrapped in my arms as the rain washed away our blues and painted our day with the lazy motion of the Carolina shag.” Water trickled from the tip of his nose and his grinning lips as he gently swept a lock of wet hair off of her cheek.

  Before she allowed herself to overthink it, Josie reached up and placed her equally wet lips against his, briefly but long enough for the warmth of it to reach her tender heart.

  “And when you see the rain, you’ll remember the day Josie Slater wasn’t too chicken to take the kiss she’d been wanting for a really long time.” She smiled at him as August concluded their dance.

  August’s grin dropped as he focused on her lips. “It took you long enough,” he said in a matter-of-fact tone as if he’d been waiting on her all of those years as much as she’d been waiting on him.

  Josie’s thoughts were fleeting, and before she could manag
e to wrap her mind around them, August’s hands reached over and cupped her cheeks as he closed the gap and took his own kiss, adding the flavor of sweet strawberries and optimism to the memory.

  16

  Stealing shouldn’t be so fun, so addictive, and there was no denying the fact that August had no intentions of stopping anytime soon. He sat rocking long after Josie drove away, contemplating ways he could pull off stealing that woman completely. Their moments were beginning to not be enough. He wanted her permanently by his side—in her rocking chair beside his, at her art easel to the right of his, on her side of his bed . . . If Josie wouldn’t totally freak out, there’d already be a ring on her finger and August would be beating a path to the courthouse.

  August let out a low chuckle and shook his head. “I’m getting a little ahead of myself.”

  A deer darted from the field across the road, but August barely noticed. His thoughts were still captured by Josie’s boldness earlier. He ran a thumb over his bottom lip, grinning against it, as he recalled the tremble of hers as she kissed him. He hit replay on the memory, remembering the nervous determination set in her baby-blue eyes as she leaned forward and finally claimed something she truly wanted. Just a soft, brief kiss. It might have seemed simple enough, but man, did it mean so much more.

  With the grin still in place, August plucked his rain-soaked shirt off. Heading upstairs and changing into some dry clothes, he thought about his dad’s advice to look for solutions to problems Josie presented as roadblocks between them. He’d discovered today that not all roadblocks included him, yet he wanted to find her a solution to them just the same. Tomorrow’s would be a little tricky, and he’d have to be extremely careful not to upset her in the process, but he was up for the challenge.

  The sun had shoved the rain clouds away and was like a beacon, beckoning him to get on with an idea that had sparked from their conversation. He grabbed his keys and wallet and made his way out to the truck. He popped open the glove box to retrieve a pair of shades. One of the books crammed inside fell out and plopped onto the floorboard. He reached down to pick it up and was stunned when catching a glimpse of a colorful page.