A Discovery of Hope (A Coming Home Again Novel Book 3) (4 page)

Chapter Seven

The spring semester hurries along until we’re past spring break and the conclusion of classes is in sight. The campus is abuzz with the warm sultry spring that already feels like summer. Not really unusual in this humid southern town with the ocean beckoning from nearly every side. Charleston always feels to be on the brink of vacation. Flip flops are a fashion must almost year round.

I’ve never had a guy friend before—only a few rare boyfriends my dad cautiously let
near
, but Duke is different. Our relationship feels closer to siblings than mere friends. Does he flirt? Absolutely, but I know it’s just for fun. We hang out most days between and after classes. It’s nice since Trina is going to another in-state college and I don’t feel so lonely with Duke around. He’s the most laidback person I have ever met and so yes, I’ve thanked Hope for nudging me into talking to him. It would have been a shame to have missed out on such a friendship due to my preconceptions of him. And shame on me for being that way. A major life lesson with this friendship didn’t get past me unnoticed. I’m a biracial young woman and should know better. Hope is right. It’s time I take my blinders down and really start looking at others. I’m missing out on a lot of life.

Duke helps me out with my hideous sketches with reserved patience. Since the accident, I don’t have much of this quality. He puts up with me, which is surprising. Even when I throw my sketch pad, he always retrieves it with a smirk of amusement. Maybe that’s why he puts up with me—I’m entertainment.

I find absolutely nothing wrong with the dude and see no reason why he would need any help from me. I don’t understand why Hope has forced the friendship, but I’m thankful for it just the same. Contrary to his outer appearance, Duke is very grounded.

Today, we are hanging out in the University Commons and I’m whining about being so behind on credits needed for my major. I’ve kept the accident to myself, but have already filled Duke in on my abrupt change in majors for my junior year. Saying it out loud to someone has made me see how bizarre this choice seems.

“That’s what happens when you make such a far-out change in majors. You didn’t just slide in a slightly different route, sweetheart. You dived off the cliff, head first, into a totally different field.” Duke is shaking his purple head in bemusement.

“Well, I’m not one to do things half-tailed,” I sass, making him laugh.

“No doubt,” he says as he scans my classes needed list. “What have you found for summer?”

“Photo Appreciation is the only thing they are offering as a summer course that I need, but I was hoping for at least two more courses.” I flip through the summer schedule one more time just in case I overlooked a class. “I could get my internship out of the way, but nothing is available that I can find.”

I glance up and find Duke lost in his thoughts for a few beats before he asks, “What are the requirements for the internship?”

Looking back over the requirements, I rattle them off to him. “Basically, I need to complete a ten-week period with at least thirty-two hours per week to earn eight credits. I also have to turn in a five-page report at the end of the internship. Of course, the university and the chosen business have to approve it.”

“I’ll keep my ears open,” he answers.

“Thanks, Duke,” I say, glancing at my watch. I know from experience that there’s a lull in traffic around campus right now, so I gather my books and stand. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Duke tugs at my bag. “What’s the rush?”

“Traffic,” I answer and hurry off before he can talk me into staying any longer.

~~~~~

Thanks to some—well let’s be honest—LOTS of pointers from Duke, I am able to scratch through my last sketch today. I’ve just turned it in and am waiting for Professor Norris to comment.

He angles the drawing this way and then that way with a confused look on his face. I’m worried this isn’t a good sign. He pushes his glasses up on his nose and looks over at me. “Well, Miss Carter… Art is supposed to be subjective so let’s finish you with an eighty-seven.”

I let out a sigh of relief. “Agreed.”

“Let’s also agree this should probably be your last sketch class.” He’s grinning so I know it’s okay to laugh. He joins in with me.

“Agreed. Thanks for putting up with me.”

“My pleasure.”

With the weight of the final off my shoulders, I gather my belongings and head out of this art room for what I’m sure is the last time. I find Duke waiting on me. He’s propped up against the wall opposite of the class and is scrolling through his phone.

“You pass?” he asks without looking up.

“Yep. You?” I ask back, although I already know the answer. This dude could sketch blindfolded and still smoke the exam. He has a gift when it comes to drawing that blows me away. A few weeks back, he admitted to being the artist who designed all of his tattoos and those babies are pretty impressive.

“Yep,” he mutters as he pushes off the wall and pockets his phone. “Good news.”

We begin heading outside. “What’s that?”

“I found you an internship for the summer.”

I stop in my tracks, causing Duke to stop as well. I had given up on that. “Really? Where?”

“Palmetto Photography Gallery. You’ve got to submit some forms like
yesterday
, so I suggest you get to it.” He pulls out a stack of papers from his bag and hands them over to me.

“Get out! I’m in shock... I checked with the school and the gallery’s website. They weren’t doing any internship.” I look over the papers in disbelief. Palmetto Photography Gallery is the hottest gallery around. It’s new and the owner is an award-winning superstar photographer.

“Guess they changed their minds.” Duke begins walking again, so I pick my jaw up off the floor and follow him outside where the humid summer morning greets us. “You gotta get it in the mail today.”

“Okay. I can’t thank you enough for finding this for me. Really, Duke. Thanks.”

“No problem.” He gives me a mischievous look and I have no idea what that’s about. Before I can pester him about it, some of his friends join us. They are quickly becoming my friends as well. They are all art majors and can be quirky, but that’s why I like them so much. There’s no social title trying to be won and no one feels the pressure to have to impress anyone.

We all head over to the coffee shop to celebrate me passing the sketch class. It’s become a running joke all semester. I don’t mind. It’s been all in good fun and I am just relieved it’s over with.

After everyone orders their coffee beverage of choice, about a half dozen of us take over the back corner in our usual spot. Everyone is chatting away about their summer plans while I pull out the internship forms and start reading them over. I’m too eager to wait until I get home. If I am chosen, I will rack up eight more credits and will have a better chance of graduating on time next spring. My eyes come to a screeching halt on a particular sentence.

The internship includes a fully furnished room for the summer.

The notion of living on my own hasn’t even come across my mind yet. I’ve lived one very nice and sheltered life. It’s a safe nest I’ve not considered leaving until this very moment. All of a sudden, this idea seems right. I’m elated as well as scared silly. I see this opportunity as a chance to experience freedom, but I’m not sure I’m ready.

I’m thinking about how my dad will take the news when I look up and find Duke staring at me.

“What’s up?” he asks. I see the worry in those clear eyes.

My camera is resting on the table so I grab it up and snap a picture of him before he can blink. I look at the image on the preview screen and see I’ve captured his concern perfectly.

I decide not to answer him. Really. What am I going to say? I may be almost twenty-one, but I’m scared to live on my own and my dad may not let me. Nope. This group doesn’t need to know all of that. I already feel like a pansy around them.

I just shake my head when I realize he’s still waiting for an answer. “Nothing. I need to get home, so I can work on this paperwork. I’ll call you.” I gather my belongings as everyone tells me their farewells. Duke is still giving me a look, but I ignore his questioning concern and head home. I’ve got a lot to sort out…

I’ve kept busy since I made it home. I finished the intern submissions form and have included a few of my pictures as is required. I chose the rainbow sky for my main one. I also cropped down the one I captured of Duke today. It’s now a close-up of just his eyes and I think it’s amazing. The only thing identifying my subject is the hardware in his eyebrow.

After completing the necessary prerequisites for the internship, I worked on making supper. I chose lasagna because it’s my dad’s favorite. Plus it keeps well when one has no idea when their dinner date may arrive home. It’s been ready for an hour now, but I’ve kept it on warm in the oven.

I walk around the house nervously trying to find something to occupy my time as I wait for Dad to arrive home. I wish Hope would pop up and let me ask her advice, but she has been a no-show today. I wonder if this is it. Making amends with Mom and giving new friendships a chance is all she wanted me to do. I thought the idea of her finally leaving me would make me happy, but it’s sad. Hope has been my constant companion for nearly a year—a very difficult year. I’m going to miss her.

We are sitting at the kitchen island, eating in silence. Dad seems too exhausted to talk and I’m too nervous. He mumbled earlier about having five surgeries and almost clocking over his allotted surgical hours, while he shucked his tie and jacket before digging into supper. He hasn’t spoken since.

I swallow another bite before saying, “I passed all my exams.”

“That’s great, sweetheart. I’m proud of you. You deserved a fun semester.” He goes for another helping as I lose my appetite.

We are back to square one again and now I have to get him on board with my permanent change in major. I look around the kitchen and silently beg Hope to show up and lend me some support, but the room continues to only house my dad and me. “My focus will continue to be photography,” I mumble. I keep staring at my plate, afraid to look up and find his disappointment.

This causes him to set his fork down. “I’m really too tired today to discuss this.”

“There’s no discussing, Dad. This is my decision. I don’t want to disappoint you, but I can’t handle being in the medical field. I barely survived the gore of my own body last year. There’s no way I could ever handle a career dealing with that on a daily basis.” I choke up as I think back over last summer. I couldn’t even stand the sight of my own mangled arm and I only glimpsed the gross gash on my scalp one time before the staples were removed. And speaking of the staple removal—I passed out during that!

Dad seems to lose his appetite, too, and gets up and scrapes the second helping off of his plate into the trash. I just sit and watch. I need to tell him about the internship, so I can mail the submission form off in the morning, but now seems like a really lousy time. He picks up his coat and tie off of the end of the counter along with his briefcase. It’s now or never.

“I’m applying for a photography internship this summer.”

He looks back over to me. “Okay,” he says in defeat, making my stomach ache.

“It provides a room, too.”

Dad places his belongings back down and takes a seat. His exhaustion emits so strongly and I pity him, but not enough to rescind my decision. He shakes his head and rubs his tired face before looking over at me. “I don’t know about that.”

“Look.” I hand him the information sheets I printed off the Internet earlier. “I performed a background check on the owner and the business. There’s nothing to worry about. It’s only ten minutes from the campus, which is perfect since I’m registered for a summer class.”

He studies the papers. “You did all of this on your own?” I think he’s impressed although it’s hard to tell with all of his weariness.

“It’s just for the summer, and I really need to try this. Besides, it’s just an application. There’s probably hundreds applying, so I probably won’t even be picked.”

This seems to perk him up a bit. I know what he’s thinking. I’m not very grounded in this major yet. Odds are the internship will go to a more advanced student. If this idea persuades him to let me mail these papers off in the morning, so be it. I have to at least give it a shot.

“The deadline to submit is tomorrow. May I please give this a try?”

“We both know you are a grown woman, Willow. You don’t need my permission, but I appreciate you respecting me enough to ask. For that, yes. Give it a try, but please think long and hard about completely walking away from medicine.”

I stand and lean over to give him a kiss on the cheek. “Yes, sir.”

Chapter Eight

The last week has been on some type of fast-forward button. The morning I mailed the submission form off, I figured I was in for a long wait only to be told no. Within two days of mailing it, a young woman called and told me the internship was mine. It felt like fate. I was ecstatic for the entirety of ten minutes until reality set in. I had to officially grow up. It was like I just received my adult license and could not ask for a refund. Maybe this is the necessary shove I’ve needed.

Dad has been very quiet since, except for him barreling in the other night and declaring I would not be doing the internship. He performed his own background check and unearthed the exact information I did, minus one particular page of the owner’s record I threw away without sharing with him.

“He has assault charges on his record!” he yelled.

“From when he was
eighteen
, Dad!” I yelled back. “That’s been well over a decade.”

“So you knew and weren’t going to tell me.” I saw the disappointment wilt his eyes, and I hated more than anything to disappoint my dad. He is a good man and deserves respect.

“You know as well as I do, teenagers make stupid choices. His record has been clean since then. And do I need to remind you of your own stupid teenage record?” I hated to play that card as much as disappointing my dad, but I had to make a point.

He cringed at my bold statement and walked off without another word. My dad had been arrested for underage drinking at some party when he was sixteen. Lesson learned the hard way and he never made a poor choice like it again.

The next day, Dad came home with an arsenal of pepper spray and asked if I needed a refresher course in self-defense. I hugged him and told him thanks, but I was good. “You let that owner know you mean business. Make sure he sees you have pepper spray.”

I held in the laugh threatening to bubble out and agreed with him. Remembering it now causes me to giggle a bit as I drive along this narrow street. I’ve been driving around this crowded area of Charleston for twenty minutes now, trying to finding a parking spot. Moving in on a Friday was not the best of ideas. I have to keep on my toes with all of the one-way streets.

This is the historical part of Charleston and is home to the landmark seawall known as the Battery. It stretches along the Charleston shores, bordered by the Ashley and Cooper Rivers, making up the Charleston Harbor. Antebellum homes line the congested streets and weave around the charming park. I’ve already driven by it twice now, but I don’t mind with the scene being so nice. Moss-draped ancient oaks stand guard over the area that houses historical statues and massive cannons I remember climbing on as a child. The grand view of the harbor beckons visitors year round and makes finding decent parking one heck of a task.

I’m close to giving up, when a spot vacates close enough to the photo gallery. It takes another ten minutes to gather my bags and lug them down the sidewalk to the building where I finally push through the door and am greeted with a cool, quiet space.

Palmetto Photography Gallery is a place I could get lost in with dark stained floors that welcome you to walk around and inspect the brick walls lined with alluring photography. There are black-and-whites keeping company with vivid color shots with various subjects. The lights are dim except for the soft spotlights showcasing the art.

I drop my bags near the wrought iron stairs that lead to a second floor and walk around in awe. The vibe of the space is a tranquil sanctuary and I never want to leave. I’m studying a lush tropical photo of what looks to be a rainforest when I hear a guy call out from the back.

“Be there in a minute.”

I keep on my photo walk and am so lost in it that I’m startled when he speaks again from right behind me.

“May I help you?” he asks in a formal quiet voice, trying not to surprise me but failing. His voice contains a deep timbre that demands attention.

I turn around and find a tall, ruggedly handsome guy who looks like he should be outside on a beach or on some adventure and not in the confines of any building. His pale blue eyes look at me in patience for an answer.

“Willow Carter,” I stutter out as I offer my hand.

He takes it with a friendly shake. “JP Thorton.” A smile plays around the corners of his mouth but he doesn’t allow it appear.

“I’m your summer intern,” I blurt. With this statement the man’s whisper of a smile is replaced by a deep frown and his blond eyebrows pinch together in confusion. This makes me uncomfortable.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. You must be mistaken.” He finally releases my hand and takes a step back.

I hurry over to my bags and pull out the paperwork I received in the mail that confirms the internship. I walk back over to him and he takes the papers apprehensively.

“Savannah Monroe selected me and sent this paperwork to give you.” I point to her signature.

“I’m going to kill her,” he mutters as he storms away from me. I follow as I watch him head into what I’m guessing is his office.

Before I can decide to enter or flee, Hope appears in front of me and I have to refrain from yelping out loud.

“Oh, so now you decide to show up?” I whisper. All she does is smile her knowing smile. “Where have you been?”

“I’m with you always, my child.” She scoots out of the way and stands beside me.

I peek around the door and watch as the guy hits a button on the phone sitting on his massive desk. Most of the top surface is dominated by a huge monitor. I’ve seen those types of monitors in the photo lab at school. It’s quite impressive, and the man standing before it is downright overwhelming on so many levels. Feeling uncomfortable, I ease back away from the door and decide it’s probably best to wait out of sight.

As I stand here fiddling with the skirt of my dress, the sound of another button being jabbed angrily reaches my ears, followed by the trilling noise of the phone impatiently ringing.

Three rings later, a warm southern female voice, sounding vaguely familiar, answers. “Hey, John Paul.”

“I’m going to kill you!” he growls.

“Now, that’s just being a bit too dramatic, don’t you think? Last time you said that to me, I do believe I had just singlehandedly launched your career.”

“This is different.”

“Why do you want to kill me this time?” She asks this in an almost bored voice.

“Don’t play dumb. You know why!”

I keep standing here as I listen to them go back and forth as to why or why not he is in need of an intern. “I think this is a bad idea,” I whisper to Hope. I start to back away.

“No. You are right where you are supposed to be.”

I look over at her. “Just how are you so sure?”

In a swift blink, the air glitters with her beautiful iridescent wings, and man do I wish those lovelies would be photogenic. As they undulate in the air, Hope places her hands on her hips and gives me a knowing look.

“Point made,” I whisper. The wings disappear as quickly as they had appeared, so I decide to keep listening.

The woman’s voice fills the space. “God’s blessed you with this amazing gift. Now it’s time for you to give back, sir.”

“I do give back,” he yells. “I put up with Duke!”

“That’s different. He’s family.”

I look over at Hope. “They know Duke?”

She just gives me her knowing smile. I’m beginning to realize nothing has happened since I met this angel without reason.

Savannah continues, “Duke helped me pick her out.”

“Well… You and Duke can kiss my—”

She interrupts him midsentence. “Don’t you dare spit that vile word out,
John Paul
!” She says his name like a curse word and I have to refrain from laughing. The back and forth bickering between the two is quite amusing.

Hope is laughing loudly as I want to do myself. “Siblings are something else.” She’s making it hard for me not to laugh, too. Well, the two of them being sister and brother explains a lot.

“We picked a very talented intern. She will be a lot of help. Be nice and teach her something,” Savannah instructs.

“Fine,” he yells at her.

She’s going off on him about the unnecessary yelling and how he needs to work on his manners when I hear him lift the phone and slam it back down to end the call. JP comes storming out of his office and almost plows right into me.

“Oh,” he says. His face is high in color and it’s clear how much this has aggravated him. He also looks a bit embarrassed at finding me listening.

“Maybe next time you should close the door and perhaps opt to not use speakerphone,” I suggest with a smile, trying to ease the tension.

JP seems to be in no mood to play along. Maybe he’s not a joking kind of guy. He sidesteps around me and heads to the front door. He holds it open for what I’m guessing he intends to be my exit. I walk over but don’t leave.

“I have a private showing to prepare for. Come back on Monday and we’ll figure this crap out.”

I look over at my abandoned bags and have no desire to lug them all back to the SUV. “But… The internship includes a room for the summer,” I mutter with uneasiness. This guy’s sister has totally left him in the dark. I would want to kill her, too.

Tension washes over him as he aggressively runs his hand through his unruly light blond hair. He takes a deep breath and forces a smile—only making me more uncomfortable.

“I guess that explains why Miss Busy Breeches all of a sudden got a wild hair to fix up the extra room.” He notices my bags and scoops them up. “Come on and let me show you to your room, ma’am,” he says with no politeness.

I follow him upstairs cautiously. He points to a door on the left. “This is my room.” He then points to the end of the hall. “That’s the bathroom I guess we get to share. Savannah was here cleaning up a storm yesterday, so lucky you, it’s presentable. And this room to the right is your room.” He opens the door and ushers me in.

I take in the quaint space, finding it surprisingly roomy. It is big enough to hold a queen-sized bed as well as a small seating area with a loveseat and rocking chair. On the right wall, a small kitchenette is set up with a good-sized dorm fridge and a microwave. A small counter holds a nice Keurig coffee maker and a rack stocked with gourmet brew cups in all sorts of flavors—very hospitable.

JP sets my bags near the bed. “Make yourself at home.” He then heads out the door, but pops his head back in. “What’s your name again?”

“Willow Carter,” I repeat in defeat.

He nods his head and disappears. I walk over and close the door before going over to the loveseat and sitting down with a disappointed plop. I feel close to tears at being unwelcomed as I smooth the skirt of my dark fuchsia sundress. I guess I got dressed up for nothing.

Hope appears beside me and holds my hand. “It’s all going to be just fine.”

“It doesn’t feel fine at all.”

“You just need to have a little faith, my friend.” She pats me on my knee. “Welcome to Palmetto Photography Gallery.”

With this, I let the tears spill. What an overwhelming life I have had recently.

An hour passes before I work up enough ease to unpack my clothes. I swap the dress for my baggy jeans and a boho blouse. I decide to keep my toiletries in my room and just bring them back and forth when I need them. I’ve never shared a bathroom with anyone in all my almost twenty-one years of life, so I don’t know the etiquette of it. This will definitely take some getting used to—if I stay.

I check out the small fridge once I’m finished, hoping for at least a bottle of water. I’m surprised to find it nicely stocked with waters, juice, premade sandwiches, and small cups of fresh fruit. A small card rests on the top shelf between two bottles of water. I pull it out and read,
Welcome to the gallery. Hope you have a great summer. Best wishes
. It’s clearly a woman’s handwriting. How on earth did this guy not notice what his sister was up to? She did mention he travels a lot when we talked on the phone. Maybe he’s just getting back from a trip. I’m still uneasy as to why she didn’t get this approved by him first.

Hope answers my thought. “Savannah thinks it’s best to surprise her brother with things sometimes. That way he has no choice but to accept them. John Paul is a bit apprehensive about change.”

“Well… It’s still pretty rotten of her to just spring me on him like this.” I take a seat at the small dining table and try to get comfortable with this being my new home. I huff out a long sigh as I scan the space. I wonder if I’m going to regret wanting to be a grownup.

More time passes and I’m getting antsy, so I ease out of my room and think about heading downstairs. I hear voices from down below, so I peep over the small balcony and find JP and an older couple with their backs towards me, studying some large framed photos that are resting on wrought iron easels. The angle of the easels keeps the images just out of my view.

The woman is determined to have all three photos, claiming you cannot have an even grouping of art. I agree with her on this point. I rest on the top step and watch on.