by T. I. Lowe
“How about you? How are things going?” Sophia asked.
Josie understood the desire Sophia had for changing the subject. She also understood her worries seemed trivial compared to her friend’s struggling marriage. Rather than whine about what was truly bothering her, Josie chose to tell Sophia all about the unexpected adventures she’d been on as of late. By the time she had to leave for work, Josie had her friend in stitches.
“That fishing trip and water fight are just too hilarious.” Sophia laughed some more.
“Yeah. That family is something else.” Josie couldn’t contain the affection she felt for the entire bunch that made up August’s world. “Okay, friend, I’m off to work now.” Josie stood but bent over to give Sophia a hug. “Hang in there.”
“I’m trying my best.” There was no missing the anguish in Sophia’s voice.
Josie squeezed one last time before walking up the beach and into the busy diner. The counter was lined with customers, and several more were waiting for a turn. She quickly washed her hands, tied on her apron, and got lost in the lunch rush. She held a smile firmly on her face, but there was no denying the fact that her heart just wasn’t in it anymore. Busy as they were, Josie didn’t think the clock would ever move to closing time.
On autopilot, she locked the door at two o’clock and began stacking chairs on top of the tables as one of the waitresses finished washing them down. Just as they finished closing down, August emerged from the kitchen.
Blinking, Josie asked, “Where did you come from?”
“The kitchen.” He smirked while hitching his thumb over his shoulder.
“How so?”
“I offered to clean fryers, so they let me in the kitchen entrance without further comment.”
Josie leaned into him and took a sniff. Sure enough, a greasy aroma masked his normal, more appealing, scent of fresh soap and paint. “Why exactly are you cleaning fryers again?”
August reached over and brushed a wisp of Josie’s blonde hair from her forehead and then briefly cupped her cheek. “I’ve made plans with a certain Slater. Very important plans.”
Before she could ask what the plans were or simply swoon, her dad came bustling out of the kitchen.
“This ain’t gonna be purty,” Jasper told August with apprehension scrunching his features.
“No worries. It’s just like riding a bike. You never really forget.”
“I may not have forgotten, but my body may not allow it.”
Josie noticed both men were wearing board shorts, which sent her adventurous spirit plummeting quicker than her dad probably would plummet off the surfboard.
“Meet me out back in a few. Gotta see a man about a fish real quick.” Jasper headed outside, still grumbling about surfing being a bad idea.
August ignored his griping and turned to Josie. He reached out and playfully pinched her protruding bottom lip. “You’re too cute when you’re pouting.”
“No, I’m not.” She scoffed.
“Not cute or not pouting?” He tilted his head and gazed at her warmly.
“Both.” She cut her eyes at him. “Don’t let my daddy get hurt.”
“Yes, ma’am.” August glanced around before leaning down and giving her a quick kiss. “I’ll see you in the morning at church.”
“Oh, that reminds me. I want to collect on a favor.”
“I’ll give you another kiss, woman. No need to use up a favor for it.” August leaned in, but Josie angled away and giggled.
“No, I need something else,” she clarified. “Remember me telling you about Theo while we painted the other day?”
“Yes.” He nodded.
“Do you think it’s possible to find him a job at the camp? Maybe one where he can stay there during the summer session? I think it would do him good and—” Before she could continue rambling or start begging, August quieted her with another kiss.
He remained in her space and said, “It wouldn’t hurt you to use a favor for yourself just once. It’s always all about everyone else with you, but, Jo, you’re just as important.”
“I . . . uh . . . but I’m fine.” She began to fidget. “So do you think finding Theo a job is possible?”
Shaking his head, August chuckled. “Let me talk to Carter and see what we can come up with.” He pressed his lips to her forehead and added, “Your heart is too beautiful, Miss Slater.” After a subtle wink, he sauntered out the door.
It took a few moments of standing frozen in the middle of the dining room before Josie could collect herself enough to finish out the day. Once everything was clean and put away, Josie saw the few employees out and then settled on the deck to watch the two men who meant an awfully lot to her. They spent more time frolicking in the ocean than surfing due to the fact that Jasper couldn’t manage to stay upright on his board. Eventually August must have given up as Josie watched them move past the waves and straddle their boards instead of riding them.
Josie caught herself giggling a few times as she focused on August. He seemed to be having a lively conversation with her dad. His hands animatedly waved around as he told Jasper all about something she couldn’t hear. Shaking her head at the idea of them becoming buddies, she decided to leave them be to have their fun and head over to spend some time with Dalma.
20
“I need you.”
That’s all it took for Josie to agree to help August once he filled her in on what exactly he needed from her. He smiled, relieved that she was finally coming around, as the special guests arrived at the camp for a weekend retreat.
“Only three more weeks before this scene blows up ten times bigger.” Carter rubbed his hands together as the colorful bus pulled into the parking lot.
August stood beside his uncle, equally excited. “Yeah, man. This is going to be one epic adventure you’ve gotten us into. Thank you for letting me be a part of it.”
Carter slapped him on the back. “No way would I do this without you. Come on. Let’s go welcome them.” He set off in a hurried pace with August by his side.
As the bus doors opened, Josie scooted down the steps first, followed by Dominica holding hands with the camp’s guest of honor. The young lady with lopsided glasses and a whimsical smile had stolen their hearts a few years ago and never returned it. Emma immediately let go of Dominica’s hand and made a beeline for Carter.
“I like this place. Yes, I really like this place.” Emma nodded, sending her wispy strawberry-blonde hair to dance around. “Carter, Dominica said we are making music. Lots and lots of music. I like that. I like that a lot.”
Carter patted her on the shoulder. “Of course. We can’t do this without music. I hope you’re ready to play me a song on the new keyboard we have in the music room.”
The eighteen-year-old began chatting away about a new song her piano teacher was teaching her back home in Charleston.
Josie walked over to August with a wide grin on her face as about a dozen other young people filed off the bus, most with a parent or a shadow. “This is a great way to open up the first session of camp.”
“I think so too,” August agreed before moving over and helping with the luggage.
“August, we’re making music!” Emma hollered out.
August turned around to look at the sweet angel who taught them all to appreciate the uniqueness of autism and that nothing was off-limits as long as you believe in it. “Yes, but I’m going to be offended if you don’t make art with me too.”
Emma looked around and seemed to ignore August’s tease. “You made the walls into a coloring book. Your coloring book needs to be colored.”
“That’s the plan.” August chuckled as he and Josie watched Emma walk off with Dominica, quietly rambling as they went.
“She’s chatty compared to your other guests,” Josie commented while a few other campers, whose ages varied from late teens to early twenties, stayed glued to their shadow’s side with their eyes cast to the ground.
“Because she’s comfortable around us. Carter a
nd I actually met her during a summer ministry program several years ago and we’ve kept in touch ever since, but Dominica is her favorite now. Emma and her parents made a few trips to the camp while it was being built, so I think that’s helped her being at ease here already.” August started walking toward the cabins with an armful of suitcases.
“Really? That’s pretty neat.” She glanced over her shoulder at the campers again. “I hope the rest of them will have a good time.”
“We had a specialist who focuses on autism meet with us a few times. She gave us a lot of advice on how to help them get the most out of the weekend. The itinerary has been catered specifically for them to have a good time.”
A little over an hour later, they entered the mess hall with its vividly painted walls that revealed a large camp logo with palmetto trees along the left side wall and a giant fork and spoon standing guard at the kitchen entrance door. Josie looked appreciatively at the newly revealed white images that had been previously hidden underneath the splatters as the new aroma of spicy marinara and garlic took over the previous paint scent.
“Pretty cool, Mr. Bradford.” She nudged August on the arm as they went over to the buffet table to select their pizza.
“We did good, Miss Slater.” He nodded his head to the campers, who were gazing at the colorful paint splatters. Their faces lit up in awe. The weekend ahead was looking quite optimistic.
Early the next morning, the art studio was filled with wary-looking campers. August took in the project at hand, hoping he’d kept the complication out of it. The specialist warned them to never overwhelm the special-needs campers. “This morning we printed off the photos you took yesterday. We are going to take the photos and glue them to iPad cases.”
Josie handed each camper their bundle of pictures. They let the young adults take their time flipping through them. Bowls of glue and sponge paintbrushes were placed on each table, waiting to be used to transform the black cases into individual works of art. August took a moment to explain decoupage and a few facts about the technique, but no one took the initiative to start.
“May I?” Josie asked Emma, pointing to the pictures spread out before her.
Emma handed her a photo and the other campers seemed to lean in that direction to get a better look. Josie smiled enthusiastically before tearing the edges of the black-and-white photo Emma had taken of the pool. Once the edges were artfully jagged, she slathered glue on the back of it and then pressed it onto the case.
“If you brush a layer of glue on top, it’ll seal the photo,” Josie advised as she offered Emma the paintbrush to do just that.
Emma scanned Josie’s face for a moment as if making her mind up about her. “You have freckles like me.” Emma tapped the tip of her nose, where a few pink dots added character, and then reached up and tapped Josie’s tan freckles on her nose. “We match.”
“Yes, we do.” Josie gently tapped Emma’s nose, and August could do nothing but smile admiringly from where he stood at the front of the room. “Are you ready to add another photo, Emma?”
Emma went to it and the next thing August knew, others were beckoning Josie over to show them how to tear the photos. After watching in astonishment for a moment, August moved over and helped out. They set no time limit on the class, as advised by the specialist. That way those who tired of the project could freely go on to something else, while the ones who might have wanted to spend the entire day on the project could do so without feeling any pressure to finish.
After two stragglers finally made it out the door hours later, Josie helped August clean up.
“That was a hit.” Josie playfully bumped into him with her hip as she passed by.
August brushed a pile of photo scraps into the trash bin he was holding. “Yeah, it was after you broke the ice. Now they all have a custom case that they personally designed.”
“How’d you even know to do iPad cases? What if someone doesn’t have one?”
“No worries. Carter bought each camper one.”
Josie dumped a bunch of sponge brushes into a bucket filled with water, causing a small splash. “Say what?”
“He used their camp registration fee to purchase the iPads.”
“You say that like it’s no big deal to blow your earnings on the campers.” Josie scoffed.
“This camp isn’t about making money. It’s about making a difference.” August moved over to gather up the bottles of Mod Podge glue, but Josie stepped in his way. “What?”
She gestured for him to lean close, and when he complied, Josie placed a slow, sweet kiss against his lips. With her blue eyes locked on his, she broke their connection and said softly, “You, August Bradford, are making a difference. More than you know.”
He didn’t know about that. He sure did hope he was, but even being unsure on the matter didn’t keep the grin from his face. She’d just made him feel like a million bucks.
The two-day retreat went off with only a few hiccups, but nothing major in August’s opinion. All the special-needs campers seemed to enjoy themselves after settling in to the atmosphere. And boy, did Josie shine, just as August knew she would. She was a natural teacher and helped out with the other two art sessions, where they focused on freedom of design so that none of the campers felt overwhelmed with learning something too unfamiliar. He caught himself several times just watching her, thinking how she belonged in the midst of the happenings at camp.
By the time the small group departed Sunday afternoon, August realized it was time to have a talk with Josie about accepting the job offer. He just hoped it would be the answer he was seeking.
The following week, Carter gave August his final ultimatum about holding off on interviewing someone else to fill the art instructor position. Hesitant to say one way or the other, he left his uncle at the camp and headed to the diner around closing time. Josie was behind the counter, a frown on her beautiful face, and was focused on her laptop screen.
August leaned over the counter and tried to catch her attention. “Have dinner with me.”
She glanced up from the laptop. “Tonight?”
“Yes. I know you have to open in the morning, so I promise not to keep you out late. How about six at the firehouse?”
She hitched a tired eyebrow up, and he knew he should leave her alone to get some rest, but he’d started to grow selfish with wanting as much time with her as possible. Plus, there was a certain conversation he couldn’t put off any longer.
After keying something else in, she moved those soft-blue eyes to him. “Okay.”
“Great.” He tapped the countertop and stood. “I’ll see you then.” With that, he rushed out the door on a mission.
21
Releasing a drowsy sigh, Josie parked in front of the firehouse and climbed out of the truck. She took a second to stretch her tired back before moving to the side door. She raised her hand to knock, but before her knuckles connected to the surface, the door swung open.
Standing on the other side of the door, August stared at Josie with happiness lighting his handsome face, and she could have sworn there was a glow in his blue eyes. Each time she was face-to-face with him, it was like finally getting to the head of the line for the most thrilling roller-coaster ride imaginable—one she was equally excited to participate in as well as unsure if she could handle.
As she debated on whether to step out of line and pass up her turn, August grasped her hand and pulled her inside. “I’ve got an art exhibit I’d like to show you before we eat, if that’s okay.”
“Okay,” Josie mumbled, feeling she really had no choice in the matter as he began leading her up the set of wrought iron stairs that led to the loft. “All this time and I’ve not gone up here once,” she mused out loud.
“Ah, but it was for your own good. It would have been too tempting to lock you in my tower and never let you go,” August teased and followed it with a menacing laugh.
Josie couldn’t help but join in with a tired snicker. “Have you been watching Di
sney princess movies with Zachary again?”
August gave her a side-eye glare. “Thought we discussed the importance of never mentioning that.”
“Which one did you watch with him this time?”
“Woman.” His deep voice boomed, but there was a playful expression fighting to break through his feigned scold.
As Josie moved her attention away from the man who was too cute for words and saw the sitting area upstairs for the first time, she choked on air.
“It’s a fine exhibit, don’t you think?” He plowed on quickly, not giving her time to question him or flee. “Allow me to explain them.”
“August—”
He took a few steps to the brick wall and halted in front of the profile painting of her. “You light up when you paint. When I watch you get lost in your art, there’s no denying that’s what you were created to do.” He ran his fingers down the pink cheek on the canvas, close to the same shade her cheeks carried most of the time when in his presence. “This is exactly what you look like when you teach Sunday school and how you looked when you helped me teach the art sessions this weekend . . . Jo, you shine.”
“Les rêves peuvent se réaliser.” She slowly spoke the words that were painted at the bottom of the piece, knowing she was butchering the beauty of the language, before looking over at him for an explanation.
August repeated with a much smoother cadence, “Les rêves peuvent se réaliser. Dreams can come true.”
“What dreams does this picture represent?” She motioned toward her profile.
“Any dream that makes your beautiful face shine like that.” He studied the painting and then Josie.
When she glanced toward the stairs, he quickly moved them over to the handprint painting. “I had my assumptions on this one, and over the last month and a half it’s been confirmed.”
Brows pinched, she kept her eyes trained on the picture. “What’s been confirmed?”
“Although our hands are different sizes, you have to admit we make a perfect pair.” August reached over and aligned their palms. “Each project we’ve worked on together is proof. Our styles vary, but put them together and look . . .” With his free hand, August gestured to the three pop art paintings. “We create masterpieces.”
