Driftwood Dreams

by T. I. Lowe

  The question had Sophia coming up short, so she only responded with a half-hearted shrug.

  “You are the owner of your self-esteem. Don’t let circumstance dictate it. Show Ty and everyone else you’re still that crazy-smart, fiercely driven woman who lets no one and nothing get the best of her.”

  Josie bobbed her head in agreement. “Opal’s right. You’ve achieved everything you’ve ever set your mind to. You are the former reigning Miss Sunset Cove, you were the captain of the cheerleading squad, valedictorian of your graduating class, you formed Beach Preserve Coalition for your senior project when the rest of us only took the time to write a research paper—”

  “Oh! I love that charity.” Opal’s face lit with admiration, mirroring Josie’s. “Girl, you got the entire town and my daddy, the senator, on board with keeping our beach a litter-free, healthy environment.”

  They were doing what the Sand Queens did best. Lifting one another up when life tried beating them down by redirecting the focus to all of the good and positives.

  Sophia’s tears of anger transformed into tears of appreciation as she leaned forward and hugged both wonderful friends God had blessed her with for as long as she could remember. Even though she was a year ahead of them in age and school grade, their bond had always been ironclad.

  After the three women hugged it out and resettled in their own chairs, Sophia finally asked, “What was all that talk about a mystery neighbor?”

  “There’s no mys—”

  “I think a vampire moved in last night.” Opal was quick to cut Josie off, but Sophia dismissed it when she processed what the silly woman had just spouted off.

  “A vampire?” She wiped the last of the tears from her cheeks and rolled her eyes at Opal’s absurd words.

  “Yes. Possibly two of them.” Opal leaned toward Sophia and Josie in a conspiring fashion and glanced around. She nodded her head to the cookie-cutter, saltbox-style beach house to the right of Opal’s. Instead of the orange-sherbet paint job, it was whitewashed with dusty-blue shutters. “A moving truck showed up late last night. I saw two men slinking around in the dark and they kept at it until sunrise. Then all went eerily quiet over there.”

  Sophia pulled her sunglasses down the bridge of her nose and looked for any sign of life. A nice set of outdoor furniture had been placed on the back deck and a beach bike was propped against the side of the house, but nothing looked amiss. She slid the shades back into place and was about to look away when the curtain at the kitchen window fluttered, revealing a hint of a shadowed figure. Sitting up taller and angling her head to the side, she whispered, “Someone’s in the kitchen.” She heard Opal gasp and Josie snort.

  All three leaned over the railing, like that would actually get them close enough to see more clearly. Sophia knew they looked like a bunch of nosy rubberneckers, but she kept leaning until a loud boom ricocheted from the neighboring house. Three sets of feet cleared the deck as squealing burst from each of the women.

  “What was that?” Sophia whisper-yelled, ducking down behind the deck railing and clutching her pounding chest.

  “See!” Opal crouched beside her. “I told you something’s not right with him.”

  “How do you even know it’s a him?” Sophia narrowed her eyes and glanced over to find Josie settling back into her chair, obviously the only sane one out of the bunch. She stood and followed suit.

  “I already told you. It’s two guys and I saw them hauling in things last night. One of which was a long box.” Opal stretched her arms as wide as they would go while her eyes bugged out. “I’m pretty sure it may have been a coffin.”

  Josie snorted again. “Get up from there, silly, and knock it off.”

  Opal stood and dusted the sand off her brightly colored shorts. “I’m serious. That house has been sitting there vacant since Mrs. Clark vanished last year—” Her eyes rounded again. “Oooh! The neighbor did it!”

  “With the candlestick in the dining room!” Josie interjected with a thick coating of sarcasm.

  “I have the weirdest friends,” Sophia muttered, propping her cheek on the palm of her hand and slouching against the side of the chair.

  Josie disregarded the jab and said to Opal, “You know Mrs. Clark went to live with her sister in Florida.”

  “So they say . . .” Opal’s words trailed off as she jabbed a finger toward the house. “She could have been holed up in the basement all this time.”

  “Your husband oversaw the renovations to the house just last month. To be sure, Linc would have noticed an old lady tied up somewhere.” Josie rolled her eyes and picked up a cookie from the plate. She gave it a cautious sniff. “You didn’t bake these, did you, Opal?”

  “You know Linc doesn’t let me near the oven. Momma made them.” Opal drummed her fingertips against the table while eyeing next door. Suddenly she jolted in such a spastic manner that it caught Sophia’s waning attention. “The curtain moved again!”

  Sophia blinked slowly at her friend before moving her sights over to next door. All she could see were shadows moving past the windows. They appeared to be drifting about in no particular direction. Much the same way she was doing as of late.

  “I think we need to go over there and check things out.”

  “We’re doing no such thing,” Josie ordered while swiping two more cookies and handing one to Sophia. “Seriously, Opal, that’s enough. You keep on and I’m calling Linc to come get ahold of you.”

  Sophia sniffed the cookie out of habit since it came from Opal, finding only the delicious aromas of vanilla and chocolate chips. She took a bite and chewed absently, realizing her sluggish attention was missing something. From Opal’s outlandish behavior over the new neighbor and Josie’s snorting responses to it all, clearly she wasn’t catching on to whatever was happening. But she didn’t care enough to try figuring it out.

  The smell of fresh paint mixed with a lemony scent the cleaning crew had left in their wake had been welcoming the prior evening. But after pulling an all-nighter and sorting through moving boxes until the sun showed up, Weston Sawyer was over it. Squinting his tired eyes at his watch and finding it past noon, the only scent he wanted assailing his senses was coffee. Stat.

  “Looks like the neighborhood watch is already on to you,” Seth mumbled as he peered out the kitchen window of Wes’s new home.

  Wes rummaged through the third box marked kitchen, hoping to unearth the coffeemaker. If his search came up empty once more, he was heading out the door to find some form of caffeine. “Why’s that?”

  “There are three women sitting on the deck next door watching us. Been there for a while now.”

  “Aha!” Wes held up the coffeemaker’s carafe as if it were a grand prize. At the moment, it certainly was, to him. He yanked the machine part out next and walked it over to the counter to put it to work. He glanced out the window as he filled the pot with water and spotted his audience. A blonde sat chowing down on cookies while another woman in a giant sun hat looked to be melting into her chair from slumping down so much. He couldn’t help but chuckle at the wild one with her hands flailing around. “The redhead is my new neighbor, Opal Cole. Her husband remodeled the house and the doctor’s office for me.” Wes surveyed the space and was quite impressed with the clean lines of the kitchen. The white marble countertops with the subtle veining weren’t like anything he’d ever had in a home. Taking in the espresso wood floors and the crisp gray walls, he concluded nothing was, for that matter. Lincoln Cole nailed it.

  “Oh.” Seth kept looking out the window. “She dropped those cookies off earlier, right?”

  “Yes. She promised she didn’t bake them. Whatever that means.” Wes scooped the ground coffee into the filter and inhaled deeply of the robust scent. “They’ll go good with some coffee. I hope between the sugar and the caffeine, we can muster enough energy to set up a few rooms before I have to take you to the airport.” He glanced at his brother out of the corner of his eye. It was like looking in the mirror, but h
is brother’s image reflected an untarnished spirit that Wes’s never would. “Sure wish you could stay longer than just one day.”

  Seth turned away from the window and grabbed up another box. “I drove that stinking moving van all the way here and helped you unload it for a better part of the night. I call my brotherly duties done.” Seth’s teasing smirk vanished as he stumbled and dropped the box, sending an explosive clanging ringing out.

  “Man, if you messed up my pots . . .” Wes moved over to work the tape off the lid so he could inspect them.

  Seth let out an obnoxious snort. “You’re so peculiar over everything, old man. They’re just pots and pans.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with wanting to take care of my belongings.” Wes’s words choked off as soon as he realized what he’d said. He’d failed at taking care of what belonged to him when it had mattered the most. Without inspecting the contents of the box, he straightened and walked back to the coffeemaker. His eyes fixed on the ribbon of rich-brown liquid filling the pot as he gripped the back of his neck with both hands.

  “I hope you give this fresh start a real chance, Wes.” Seth moved behind him and clamped him on the shoulder. “You know it’s time. You deserve to be happy again.”

  Finalizing the sale of the house that held too many broken dreams and walking away from the successful practice he’d helped to build from the ground up in Alabama was supposed to be the ending of a long, difficult chapter.

  Signing the paperwork to purchase the beach house and small medical practice in Sunset Cove was supposed to be the beginning of a new, calmer chapter.

  Thus far, Wes found himself trapped in the tragic-twist part of the story. He wasn’t sure he’d ever figure out how to give a new chapter any real hope.

  Seth squeezed his shoulder. “You hear me, man?”

  Wes dropped his hands away from his neck and worked on filling two mugs with coffee. “I already had happiness once.” He lifted one of the mugs and breathed in the scent before taking a sip, as the what-ifs began a worn-out mantra. “I’m not here looking for that. I just want some peace and quiet.”

  Seth reached over and took the other mug. “It’s been well over three years—”

  “Yet it feels like just yesterday.” Shaking his head, Wes moved over to the spacious breakfast nook surrounded by bay windows and plopped down in a chair that faced the ocean. The table set, with a custom-built bench seat along the back and chairs on the other three sides, was stark white and chunky. Clean-cut, yet comfortable. It was new, just like the rest of the furniture pieces. His old furniture, along with the rest of the material belongings from his last chapter, was left behind in storage.

  Too bad he couldn’t do the same thing with his memories.

  DISCUSSION

  QUESTIONS

  Driftwood Dreams is not only the book’s title, but also the name of Josie’s beach house. How does the book’s name relate to the main characters, Josie and August? For instance, how is Josie like driftwood? What are Josie’s and August’s approaches to fulfilling their dreams?

  Dreams and achieving life goals are a common theme throughout Driftwood Dreams—August grasping his dreams and going after them with abandon, Josie allowing her dreams to die along with her mother. What obstacles do they have to overcome in order to allow their dreams freedom?

  Other characters in the book deal with dreams in different ways too: Carter and Dominica, Lincoln and Opal, Sophia and Ty. Each couple has to revise the dreams they had for their lives. Discuss the revisions and roadblocks presented to each of them.

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

  Even though the sun can be brightly shining, a darker struggle can be hidden just below the surface. What effect does Josie’s private struggle with depression have on her “passive” personality? How does her struggle with depression help open her eyes to others around her?

  At first glance, August is a free-spirited artist who is known to be easygoing. What are some instances that come to mind where he lets that slip away enough to reveal another side of him?

  August finally gets Josie on board to paint a vivid life with him. The two artists have a few romantic, artistic scenes. Which ones stand out to you?

  The next book in the series is Sea Glass Castle. It centers around Sophia Prescott and her attempt to rebuild a life for herself and her son in the aftermath of a turbulent marriage that ends in divorce. Dr. Weston Sawyer moves to Sunset Cove to take over Doc Nelson’s pediatric practice. His life is in shambles as well. From what you’ve learned about Sophia in the first two books, where do you see her story heading? What do you look forward to discovering in the next book?

  DRIFTWOOD DINER BISCUITS & GRAVY

  (T. I.’s simpler version)

  Ingredients:

  8 Pillsbury Grands! Southern Homestyle frozen biscuits

  4 strips bacon, chopped

  1 lb. extra-large shrimp, peeled and chopped

  ¼ cup flour

  2 ½ cups whole milk

  1 teaspoon Old Bay seasoning

  Salt and pepper to taste

  2 tablespoons chopped chives

  Bake biscuits according to package directions. In a large skillet, cook bacon, then add shrimp once the bacon has browned and sauté together. Sprinkle with flour. Gradually add milk and bring to boil, stirring frequently. Reduce heat to medium and let simmer until thickened. Add Old Bay seasoning, salt, and pepper, and sprinkle with chopped chives. Pour gravy over split biscuits and enjoy.

  A NOTE FROM

  THE AUTHOR

  I am a lot like Josie Slater in many ways—just not the tall, skinny part. I have had dreams from an early age, and just as Josie did, I allowed life circumstances to stand in the way of achieving them. Through her journey and also my own, I hope you will see that dreams are attainable as long as you’re brave enough to go after them. The journey wasn’t easy. It took a lot of work and dedication to pursue my passion for writing, but I eventually stepped out in faith and stopped allowing excuses to hold me back. Now, I don’t advise you to wait until reaching close to age forty as I did, but even if you’re forty or beyond, I say go for it!

  I’m thankful for each “Opal,” “Sophia,” and “August” in my life who have encouraged me to go after my dreams. I bet you have those special people in your life as well. Listen to them and allow them to be a part of your journey. And don’t forget to be a part of the cheering squad for others.

  I like to write lighthearted books that address deeper topics. I chose to highlight depression in this story because I want readers to be aware of its relevance. Depression is something I’ve struggled with over the years. At one point in my teens, I attended counseling, and in my young-adult years I used antidepressants for a while to help combat depression and anxiety attacks.

  If you’re struggling, be brave and ask for help. No one is immune from bouts of depression, small- or large-scale. And I also want to encourage you to be a Miss Dalma and take a closer look at those around you. You never know what someone is struggling with internally. We need to be more aware and compassionate. I’m thankful for those who were looking close enough at me to realize I needed help and then encouraged me to get it.

  I pray the same will be true for anyone struggling through their own life storms.

  DRIFTWOOD DREAMS

  PLAYLIST

  “One of Us”

  by New Politics

  “Rhythm & Blues”

  by the Head and the Heart

  “Oh, Carolina”

  by NEEDTOBREATHE

  “Suit and Jacket”

  by Judah & the Lion

  “It’s Not Over Yet”

  by For King & Country

  “Limitless”

  by Colton Dixon

  “I Want to Live”

  by Skillet

  “Fearless”

  by Jasmine Murray

  “She’s a Rainbow”

>   by the Rolling Stones

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  My Lowe family and Bethlehem church family, you have poured out your support throughout this journey. Wouldn’t take anything in exchange for you or the journey.

  I couldn’t, in good conscience, share the recipe for this book without the tasting approval of Zachary and the Rosenau family. Thank you for taste testing my concoctions. My little buddy gave me a “yum” and thumbs-up for the shrimp gravy, so I feel good about sharing it with my readers!

  Trina Cooke, I appreciate the help you’ve given me along the way with this series. From helping me name Opal’s store, Bless This Mess, to allowing me to use your grandma’s name for one of my favorite characters, Miss Dalma. I hope I did you proud.

  A special thank-you to Tyndale House Publishers and Browne & Miller Literary Associates for this opportunity.

  God has allowed my dream of writing and sharing stories to come true. He has also blessed me with such lovely reading friends. Thank you.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  TONYA “T. I.” LOWE is a native of coastal South Carolina. She attended Coastal Carolina University and the University of Tennessee at Chattanooga, where she majored in psychology but excelled in creative writing. Go figure. Writing was always a dream, and she finally took a leap of faith in 2014 and independently published her first novel, Lulu’s Café, which quickly became a bestseller. Now the author of ten published novels with hundreds of thousands of copies sold, she knows she’s just getting started and has many more stories to tell. A wife and mother who’s active in her church community, she resides near Myrtle Beach, South Carolina, with her family.

  Don’t miss book one in the Carolina Coast series