by T. I. Lowe
“All part of the plan.” He waited for her to ask what plan, but Josie was too smart to fall for that. Besides, he had a feeling she’d already figured out his plan by that point.
19
Shielding her eyes from the sun with one hand while the other was settled on her hip, Josie hollered, “You are not Zacchaeus! Get down off that roof this instant!”
“I can’t!” Theo hollered back, clinging to the crooked weather vane with a rooster on top.
“Why not?” Josie began climbing up the ladder that was leaning against the white clapboard house.
“I’m . . . I’m scared. . . .”
Grunting, Josie made it to the top and sat on the sloped roof beside a frightened Theo. “I told you I would be by today to patch the roof. Why didn’t you wait?”
“You say I ain’t Zacchaeus. Well, you ain’t Jesus. You can’t be everywhere at the same time.” Theo cut her a knowing look.
Josie was taken aback by the truth of his statement and had to just sit there in the sweltering heat for a few beats, staring at the sandy yard below. There wasn’t much grass but she could see where Theo had freshly mowed it. Taking a deep inhale and huffing it out, she looked over at him and cringed when noticing the puckering skin along his cheeks. “Oh, Theo, you’re sunburnt to a crisp. We’ve got to get you down.”
“I ain’t white like you. I don’t get sunburn.”
“That’s incorrect. Doesn’t your face hurt?”
He scrunched his face and cringed. “Yeah.”
“That’s sunburn.” Josie looked around, finding a scattering of tools, a stack of new shingles, and a small bit of rope tied to the hammer. She’d prepared all that and left it on the porch earlier before heading to the camp and wished that’s where Theo had left it. She undid the rope and wove it through his belt loop and then hers, tethering them together. “Okay, Theo, this is how we’re going to do this. I’ll start down the ladder first and you will follow me.”
“I . . . I don’t know . . .”
“I’ll be right behind you. Plus, we’re tied together, so no way can you fall. You’ll be safe. Promise.” It was only a one-story house, so she felt confident in the promise.
It took many agonizing minutes to talk Theo into it and that many more before they both made it to the ground in one piece. Josie hurried Theo inside, and after directing him to have a seat at the kitchen table, she plundered through the medicine cabinet and came up empty-handed. Deandrea’s bedroom door was closed, and that always meant she was having a bad day, so Josie chose not to bother her. Instead, she searched through a few more cabinets before finally remembering there was an aloe plant on the porch. She rushed out there and broke off a section of it and moved back inside.
Josie showed Theo the green plant with the clear liquid beginning to ooze from the end. “I’m going to apply this to the burn. It’ll help soothe it. Then I’ll call Doc Nelson and see what he thinks—okay with you?”
“You’re covered in paint,” Theo pointed out instead of answering her.
“I was working at the camp this morning,” she mumbled, focusing on carefully applying the aloe on his cheeks and forehead, inwardly cringing with knowing the poor guy had to be in pain.
“Paint looks good on you, like you should be wearing it all the time.” Theo tried to smile but stopped short and winced.
“How long were you up there?”
“For a while. I dunno.” Theo shrugged.
“Promise you won’t do something like that again.”
“Okay.” He sighed. “It’s still hurting.”
Josie made Theo a glass of ice water, worried he might be close to dehydration as well. “Let me give Doc a call.”
It took a spell to get Doc on the phone, during which Josie chanced a peek inside Deandrea’s room. Finally she heard Doc’s voice. “Sorry about the holdup. We’re as wide-open as a Case knife.”
“That’s okay,” Josie reassured him, before quickly filling him in on Theo’s situation.
“I’ll call in a prescription for Silvadene, but in the meantime, give him a dose of Benadryl and tell him to take a rest on the couch.”
“Benadryl will help?” Josie asked, not thinking about that.
“It’ll help the boy get still somewhere for a little while. And if he’s resting, then he won’t be hurting,” Doc explained.
“Oh. Okay. Thanks, Doc.”
“No problem. How’s Deandrea today?”
Josie sighed and glanced at the closed door. “Not good. She won’t get out of bed. What can I do?”
“I’ve seen depression climb on somebody like the plague. Let me make some calls and see.”
“Okay. So I can head to the pharmacy to pick up the prescription?”
“I’ll call as soon as we hang up.”
“Thanks again.”
“You’re welcome.”
After hanging up, Josie rummaged through the cabinet once again and fished out two pink tablets. She put a DVD on and sat with Theo until he dozed off. Once he was settled, she hurried into town and picked up the ointment and some other supplies. After that was taken care of, she took care of patching the roof.
It had been a long day, but Josie made herself a cup of coffee to refuel for the night ahead before washing off the paint and grime.
As twilight settled in and began toning the day down, Josie arrived back at camp in a fresh set of shorts and a T-shirt after scrubbing for close to an hour in the shower. A few stiff spots in her hair told her she hadn’t quite been able to remove all the paint.
“You ready?” August reached for her hand and began walking toward the wooded area behind the main buildings.
Smiling at his persistence in giving her a choice, she said, “Sure.”
He led them in the direction of the amphitheater and skirted around it to where the camp opened up to a large recreation field. There was just enough light glowing from the night-lights near the cabins and the amphitheater to illuminate the quilt and two blank canvases set up in the midst of the open space.
August didn’t stop until they stood at the edge of the blanket. “Have a seat and I’ll explain this idea.”
Josie did as he instructed. After she crossed her legs, he placed one of the canvases in her lap and handed her an open pen.
“One of my sessions is titled ‘Design through the Senses.’” He pulled a folded bandanna out of his back pocket. “The idea is to create an art piece without the use of sight. May I?” He lifted the bandanna.
Josie nodded her head and closed her eyes as the soft fabric covered them. “Eyesight is considered the most important sense to an artist.”
“Yes, but I want my students to understand that you need all of your senses to create art. And leaning too heavily on just one of them is careless. I want them to feel the art. To listen as their pen moves across the canvas.”
After the bandanna was secured, he took her hand and settled it against the canvas. To Josie’s disappointment, he moved away from her and took his warmth with him. “Don’t leave me.”
“I won’t. I’m sitting in front of you.” His shoe nudged her knee, giving her some comfort in knowing he was near. “I’m tying on my blindfold . . . Okay. Let’s draw.”
“This is weird,” Josie muttered, unsure about what to do.
“Just picture the image you want to create in your head and allow your hand to free it on the canvas.”
“Easier said than done.”
August chuckled but said nothing else.
Josie’s thoughts went straight to her companion, unable to focus on anything else. She’d been on a few casual dates over the years, but none of them left a lasting impression. No connection was made with any of the guys. Either they didn’t get her or she simply didn’t get them. But this man sitting in the dark on the quilt in front of her truly understood her. When she wasn’t with him, she was thinking about him. Life before his return was dull in only subtle shades of gray, but now everything burst with color and vibrant move
ment.
With Josie’s thoughts centered, she suddenly heard the pen scratch against the surface of the canvas before realizing she was drawing. The texture of the canvas tickled against the side of her palm as the pen created who-knew-what. She decided not to worry about what it should be or what it couldn’t become, and just let the pen go in whatever direction felt natural . . .
“Are you about done?” August’s deep voice broke the trance.
“Didn’t we just get started?”
“About an hour ago.”
Josie’s hand moved over the canvas a few more sweeps before stilling. “Okay. I’m done.” She was about to reach up and remove the blindfold when she sensed the warmth of August’s presence just before his breath tickled her lips. She waited for him to move to do what, she didn’t exactly know, but minutes passed with only his breath mingling with hers. It wasn’t a kiss, but in her opinion it was quite possibly the best kiss she had ever received.
Josie took in a deep inhale. “You always smell like a masterpiece,” she blurted and was surprised by her words. From August’s quick intake of breath, he was also. She sensed him moving closer until his soft lips pressed just beside her parted lips.
“A masterpiece?” He spoke the two-worded question against her skin, making her shiver.
“Yes. That unique smell of paint and crisp new canvas.” She tilted her head to the side and edged forward until she found the warmth of his neck. “And something completely unique to you . . . a masterpiece . . .”
“I could get lost in you, Josie Slater. Lost in every way.” August pressed a tender kiss to her lips as the blindfold loosened and slipped away from her eyes.
Blinking a few times, Josie found him staring at her. They remained silent as her eyes cataloged the moment. The sultry air was bristling through his thick hair and the moonlight highlighted the seriousness on his handsome face. Slowly he leaned forward again, but before he made much progress, a long streak of water came from out of nowhere and nailed him between the eyes. A forceful slap of water hit Josie in the shoulder as she spotted Tucker darting across the field wielding a serious-looking water gun.
“Attack!” Carter yelled from somewhere in the dark.
August growled as he pulled Josie to her feet and started sprinting toward the patch of trees. Several more pops of water nailed them before they could find cover.
Heaving, August yelled, “It’s not fair to attack a man who can’t defend himself!”
Water pelts continued to whiz by them, some making contact, as Josie clung to August’s arm. Something buzzed through the air and landed at her feet. Another one clattered close to it.
“These aren’t even half the size of theirs!” she whined but picked the water guns up and handed one to August, anyway.
“Beggars can’t be choosers.” August was all business as he jumped out from behind the tree and charged toward the field, hollering like a wild man as he went.
Josie stayed rooted by the tree, giggling at the hilarity of the grown guys going at it with water guns. Much to her relief, she wasn’t left alone for very long. “How did they know we were here?”
“Because the idiot told us!” Carter unleashed his water gun on her as Josie unleashed a scream.
Having enough, a jolt of adrenaline had Josie taking off through the darkness in hot pursuit after Carter. “Don’t hide from me now, Mr. Fibber!” She caught up with him and set out to emptying her water ammunition on him as they lapped the shadowy field.
As she hurried to refill the gun at a conveniently placed water hose by the small storage building, she heard Tucker shout out, “That’s my gun, punk!”
“Not anymore, sucker!” August’s boisterous laugh rang out over the field as Tucker started squealing like a little girl.
The water war continued until all four were drenched and quite winded. Without much ceremony, Tucker and Carter slunk off into the night just as stealthily as they had appeared while Josie helped August gather the canvases and quilt, which had somehow managed to make it through the attack relatively unscathed.
“This place is creepy cool at night with it being so deserted.” Josie gazed around the dark woods as the constant crackling of leaves and little twigs gave way underneath her shoes.
“Except for water gun–wielding ninjas,” August interjected.
“Of course.” Josie snickered just as a loud splash interrupted the near quietness. “They’re swimming now?”
“Probably. We’ve been sneaking out here most nights. Gotta make sure the pool is decent enough for the campers, ya know. That’s why I warned them we’d be here tonight.” August chuckled. “Guess the attack was my fault.”
“It’s okay. The water felt good with it being such a humid night.” Josie pulled the collar of her drying shirt away, not enjoying how it was already growing sticky from the heat.
August pulled out a key and unlocked the art building. “Let’s see what these canvases hold.” After flipping on the lights, he dropped the quilt so he could conceal the canvas behind his back. “You first.”
Blinking a few times to adjust to the sudden light, Josie turned her canvas so they could inspect it. Heat crawled up her neck and onto her cheeks, but August smiled warmly at the confession doodled all over the piece.
August reached a hand out and traced the letters with his index finger. “You wrote my name . . . and I like the hearts all around it.” He looked up and met her nervous gaze. “But I think the wings are my favorite.” Several sets of wings, resembling the ones she drew on the fairies earlier, were scattered around the canvas.
Josie dropped the canvas to her side, but August tugged it out of her grasp. “Ugh. I feel like a silly schoolgirl doodling her crush’s name.” She rolled her eyes and shook her head.
“When I drew on that postcard and left it on the counter, did you think of me as some silly kid passing you a note in class?” He raised his dark eyebrows.
“No.”
He lifted the canvas slightly. “There’s nothing silly about your drawing, Jo. I really like the idea of me being in your thoughts enough that you’d pour it out on this.”
She huffed. “At least show me yours so I don’t feel so weird about mine.”
Without hesitation, August pulled the canvas from behind his back. Stunned, they both stared at it with pinched-up faces. August handed Josie her canvas and ran his fingers over his. “I can’t believe I forgot to open my pen.”
“Invisible art.” Josie snickered.
August held up a finger. “Maybe not. Let’s see if I left a hidden message.” He walked over to a supply cabinet and pulled out a piece of charcoal and began running it softly over the top of the canvas. Slowly an image emerged.
Josie gasped as a slightly obscured image of her laughing appeared.
“See. You’re on my mind, too.” August gazed at Josie for a spell before clearing his throat. “Okay, young lady, it’s getting near your bedtime.” He led her outside and placed a tender kiss on her cheek before tucking her into the truck. “Good night.”
“It has been. Thank you.”
August tipped his head and closed the door.
Josie drove home with thoughts of her wish still fresh on her mind. Those wings were her expressing the desire to be free to follow after the dreams and goals she’d allowed to grow dormant. August Bradford had persistently dared her to allow them to reawaken in the last few weeks. Only problem was she couldn’t figure out how to set it all free while still remaining grounded in her duties to her dad and the diner. And she was still avoiding the dreadful conversation she was going to have to have with August about the job offer. Sure, she managed to balance the small projects and work, but anything more than that seemed impossible.
“Honey, you’re looking a little rough today . . . and is that paint in your hair?” Opal reached over from her lounge chair and tried working out the dried clump but only managed to pull Josie’s hair.
“Ouch!” Josie leaned out of her reach and glanced a
t her watch. “Just leave it. I’ll try to get it out after work.”
“I wish you didn’t have to work today. I’ve missed you,” Sophia commented as she lathered sunblock on her son’s shoulders while the toddler tried wrestling free from her grasp.
“I know . . .” Josie fiddled with the unraveling hem of her shorts. “How’s things going, Sophia?”
Sophia said nothing until Collin wandered over to the shore. In a lowered tone, she said, “Ty moved back in last week on a trial basis.”
Opal perked up. “Oh, that’s wonderful news.”
Josie squinted at Sophia. “There’s a but in there.”
“Some photographs of him dancing at a club with one of the cheerleaders from his team made the gossip rounds. The PR team suggested we give the marriage another try, for Ty’s career image. Dumb reason, I know, but I only agreed for my son’s sake.” Sophia shrugged.
“Aw, honey. What does Ty say about it?”
“Ty doesn’t say anything. He’s focused on workouts and getting in shape for training camp,” Sophia mumbled, sounding anything but optimistic about a reconciliation. “And those photos . . .”
Josie pulled her phone out and did an internet search that quickly offered up the photos. Shaking her head, she said with confidence, “This is a team event. Really, there’s nothing amiss in this pic that I haven’t seen hundreds of times before with Ty. . . . I recall pictures going around about two years ago of you dancing with one of the tight ends and all the gossip that broke loose about the two of you. Remember how silly that was?”
“Josie’s right. The media twisted that about you and now they’re doing it about Ty. Don’t let gossip win, honey.” Opal stood and wandered over to the shore, where Collin was scooping up shells.
“It’s just been so stressful.” Sophia’s words escaped on a heavy sigh.
“I bet.” Josie watched Collin and Opal walk the shore with brightly colored sand buckets in hand and slightly stooped over, like detectives on the hunt for clues.
