I attempt to work one of the crossword puzzles from the book I bought at the bookstore, but my mind can’t focus. Grabbing my phone from the coffee table, I scroll to Instagram, typing in Josie Thomas. Her face pops up as the third account listed, and I tap the screen, bringing me to her grid. It’s mostly pictures of her art, with a few mixed in of her with her kids and her with Penny and Lisa.
A link in her bio brings me to an Etsy shop named PortraitsbyJosie. It looks like her shop is relatively new—less than a year old—but she’s already had an impressive number of sales. Zooming in on one family portrait, I’m in awe of her talent. No wonder her art is so popular.
I’m so lost in the wonder of Jo that I physically jump when my phone starts to ring, Austin’s name appearing on my screen. I immediately hit the answer button.
“What’s up?” he greets me, his breathing labored.
“Why are you so out of breath?” is my response.
“I’m setting up a home gym in the garage. We cleaned out a corner. I bought a punching bag and a few other pieces of equipment. Head on over. I wanna talk with you about something.”
This is exactly what I need. Since being in Singing River, my workout routine has suffered and hitting a heavy bag might work out this knot of frustration.
“Be there in five,” I say and hang up.
When I turn into the driveway, I’m greeted by a pile of cardboard boxes for every kind of gym equipment imaginable. Austin comes into view, standing in the doorway of the garage, surveying his new home gym.
Cutting the engine, I climb from my SUV, and Austin turns, walking toward me.
“What’s up?” I ask. “What do you wanna talk about?”
Austin jerks his chin, ushering me into the garage, and I follow him. He sits down on the bench and looks up at me.
“You’re serious about staying here? When you said indefinitely, I assume you meant for good?”
I shoot him a look. “My daughter is here. I’m not going anywhere.”
“That’s what I assumed.” Austin gets that far off look in his eye, the one he gets any time he talks about Penny. “Listen, you know Penn wants to concentrate on her music more, right?”
I nod and he goes on.
“Think you’d be willing to take over the accounting side of things? Of course she’d pay you.”
“Actually, I think that’s exactly what I need. Tell me what to do, and I’m in.”
While Austin gives me the details of the job, I do a few lower back and leg stretches. I’ve known for a while now that Penny wants to step back from the studio to work on her music with Austin. This feels like a win-win for both of us. There’s now something to focus on rather than Jo; plus, I’m able to help Penny out.
With all that squared away, I rise, snagging the gloves lying near the new heavy bag that hangs from the ceiling. Austin grabs a free weight to do a series of reps while I slide the gloves on, securing the Velcro on my wrists.
Austin remains quiet, watching my fist slam repeatedly into his brand new bag. It’s not worn in like the one at my gym back home, but it feels good when I land my first punch, elbows in, throwing from my core. I adjust my stance, letting my legs do the work and land three jabs in rapid succession. Concentrating on my breathing, my form, and nothing else, I begin to break a sweat. I deliver a right uppercut, but my punch doesn’t land right, a twinge of pain traveling up my arm. Stepping back, my hand goes to rub my shoulder and Austin stops mid-rep, setting the free weight at his feet.
“You wanna talk about it?”
“No,” I grumble. I throw a few more jabs but finally unhook the Velcro on the gloves and fling them onto a nearby workbench. “I’ve tutored Abby three times now, and I’m no closer to figuring out how to get to know a teenage girl than I was when Jo first told me she’s mine. She’s sweet and polite, but all I am is a stranger to her. Jo keeps me at arm’s length, and isn’t ready to break this news to Abby. Not to mention, she’s juggling so much, and I’m beyond frustrated. I could shoulder some of her burden. That’s what I do, dammit!” I sink to the cement floor, leaning on a support beam. “I gave her my number that first day in case she’d need anything, and you know what she said?”
Austin looks at me expectantly, so I forge ahead. “She said she won’t need anything. But you know what I see every time I’m there? I see a woman drowning in responsibility. Jay’s basketball coach might give up the position, and of course Jo offered to take on yet another thing.” I chuckle to myself. “Jay shot that down quick, though.”
Austin’s mouth twists in thought. “You could coach,” he suggests. “You know all there is to know about basketball.”
“But I don’t know the first thing about ten-year-old boys,” I remind him.
Austin waves a hand in the air. “They’re just shorter. Figuring the game out, learning how to handle their emotions. Treat ’em like short adults and it’ll all work out. Also, I should add, that was an awful lot of words for someone who doesn’t wanna talk about it.”
I roll my eyes, but my mind is hung up on his suggestion, and unlike at dinner the other night, this time I give it serious consideration. Coaching would be fun. It would be good for the kids and avoid disappointing Jay. Then I’m struck by a solid idea.
“We should coach them together. It could be fun.”
Austin nods. “Yeah. Probably would. Lemme run it by Penny.”
