Chapter 3

Chapter Three

D ean hadn't expected the next few hours to be as backbreaking as they were. The morning flew by as he learned everything Andrea did on a daily basis. They worked with a few clients, each with different needs and preferences, giving Dean plenty of hands-on experience. Andrea was always nearby, offering tips and corrections when needed. None of the clients seemed to care that he was in training, and his confidence grew with each session. By the time they finished their last morning client, he was starting to feel like he might actually be getting the hang of it.

"Great job," Andrea said, smiling as they tidied up the room. "You're catching on fast."

He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, grinning. "Honestly? This feels good. Then again, I've been catering to guests for years. This isn't much different. At least the tidying up bit. The massage part?" He shrugged. "I'll get it."

"Good to hear," she replied. "How about we grab some lunch? I'm starving."

"Sounds perfect," he said, his stomach growling in agreement.

They headed back to the employee dining area and picked up a few pre-made sack lunches with sandwiches, chips, and bottled drinks before making their way to the poolside tables. The sun was high in the sky now, and the pool area was bustling with guests enjoying the warmer weather.

After finding a shady spot under a large umbrella, he took a bite of his sandwich, savoring the fresh ingredients.

"One of the best benefits of working here." He lifted his sandwich. "Issac and his crew."

Issac Andres, celebrity chef, had been hired before the official opening of the camp, all thanks to Hannah Costa. The woman had connections with very influential people and knew how to throw a great party.

Andrea nodded, taking a sip of her iced tea. "Agreed. It's nice to work somewhere where you eat so well and have a beautiful spot to take a break outside."

"Not to mention really cool bosses." He took a drink then motioned to where one of their bosses, Aubrey, had just jumped into the pool with a large splash. Hannah, another one of their bosses, jumped in right next to her. The two friends laughed and splashed each other, no doubt like they had done when they'd met at the camp as teenagers.

He and Andrea chatted casually as they ate, enjoying the relaxed atmosphere. Dean found himself appreciating her more and more. She was not only an excellent teacher but also fun to be around.

"So," she said between bites, "what's been your favorite part of the training so far?"

Dean thought for a moment, then smiled. "Honestly? Just getting to work with the clients and seeing how much it helps them relax. I know firsthand how great a good massage can make you feel. It's really rewarding."

She nodded. "That's one of the best parts. Each client is different, and you get to make a real difference in their day."

He leaned closer to her. "So far, no farters and, thankfully, no boners."

"The day isn't over yet," she warned.

As they finished their lunch, Dean leaned back in his chair, "You know, this job might be better than I thought. There's just something about being able to help people. Not that I don't help people waiting tables, but it's different."

"Different in a good way?" she asked.

He nodded. "Very good."

She laughed. "Glad to hear it. Ready to tackle the afternoon shift?"

He stood up, stretching. "Absolutely. Let's do it."

They returned to the spa, where a few more clients were waiting for their afternoon appointments. Andrea continued to guide him through each session, helping him refine his technique and build his confidence.

They were on their second client after returning from lunch when the middle-aged man started letting out very loud and very stinky farts every time Andrea applied pressure to the man's back.

She glanced up at him and silently warned him not to laugh or make a sound.

The man mumbled something that sounded like an apology, to which Andrea replied that it was all perfectly natural. Then she pointed to a canister of scented spray, and he did his best to spray around the room without tipping off the client.

When the man left, he handed Andrea and him each a crisp fifty dollar bill.

"The stinkier they are, the better they tip." She chuckled and tucked her money into her pocket.

"Wow, fifty bucks just for one client?" He shook his head as he slipped the bill into his shorts.

"After lunch is always the best. I'll need to wash my hair after that one," she joked as she waved her hand in front of her nose. "Now, let's air the room out before our next client."

He laughed as she opened the window while he walked around with the spray can a few more times.

By the time they finished their last client of the day, he was exhausted. He and Andrea cleaned up the room, putting away the oils and lotions and tidying the massage table. They threw the last load of laundry into the dryer and made sure there were clean towels and sheets in each room for the next day.

"You did great today. You are well on your way to becoming a fantastic therapist. You're lucky, things have changed since I started. I had to go to school to get my license. You'll just have to rack up your hours with an approved therapist teacher, like me, and pass the state test before you can start working on your own," she pointed out.

"Thanks, I couldn't have done it without you suggesting this," he said, feeling slightly stupid.

She waved off the compliment with a smile. "You've got the talent; I'm just here to help you find it."

As they headed out of the spa, Dean glanced at her. "So, I've moved my schedule around. I have the next few days available. Same time tomorrow?"

Andrea smiled. "No early-morning yoga tomorrow. We can meet in the dining hall around eight. Who knows? Maybe after a few more days of this, you'll be the one teaching me a few tricks."

He laughed. "We'll see about that. I'm really looking forward to the next few days." His eyes met hers and, for a moment, he thought she understood what he was saying.

But just then, Kara knocked on the door and the spell was broken.

Since the surprise party for the Costa men was happening in less than an hour, he left the pool house and headed into the dining room to see if Brent, his boss, needed any extra help prepping for the party.

Any party the Wildflowers threw was great. Those that were personally for them were even more special.

The three brothers were in no way tricked and obviously knew about the surprise. He hung around for a few hours, enjoying seeing his bosses and their spouses cut loose, and then decided to head out. It had been a very long day.

The moon was high in the sky as he walked the well-lit pathways, the cool night air a welcome contrast to the heat of the day.

He walked briskly, his mind focused on his next destination: his mother's house. He hadn't seen his sister Sophia in a few days, and he was eager to check up on her.

Sophia had been through so much in the past six months. A few years after marrying her high school sweetheart, Luke, she had been diagnosed with ovarian cancer at the tender age of twenty-four.

They had found the cancer when she had gone in to talk to her doctor about starting a family.

In the few months after that, she had endured several surgeries and months of grueling chemotherapy. His sister's once-vibrant hair was now gone, and her body was weakened, but her spirit remained strong. However, the emotional toll had been immense, especially after Luke abandoned her shortly after her first surgery.

Dean's jaw clenched at the thought of what he'd like to do to the man who had hurt his sister. He had never really liked the guy, and his actions during Sophia's hardest times had only solidified Dean's disdain for him. As he pulled his truck into his mother's driveway, he took a deep breath, trying to push his anger aside.

He knocked gently on the door to the classic beach house that he'd grown up in, and a moment later his mother opened it, her face lighting up with a tired but genuine smile. "Hey, sweetie." She lifted on her toes and hugged him.

"How is she?" he asked quietly.

"Today was a hard one," she replied just as quietly. "She's resting on the sofa." She nudged his arm. "Come on in. Hungry?"

Dean shook his head as he stepped inside, the familiar scent of home wrapping around him. "I'll just sit with her for a bit, if that's okay."

His mother smiled and reached up to touch his cheek. "Of course. I'm sure she'd love to see you."

Dean walked quietly into the living room. His sister had a scarf wrapped around her head and was wearing a pair of his old sweatpants and a camp T-shirt he'd given her. She was lying on the sofa, her eyes closed, but she opened them as he entered.

"Hey, big bro," she said weakly, but with a smile that warmed his heart.

"Hey, sis," he said, sitting down beside her. "How are you feeling?"

She sighed, and even before she answered he could tell she was tired and hurting. "Tired. But better now that you're here."

Dean took her hand gently. "I'm here for you, always."

She leaned her head against his chest, and he wrapped his arm around her, trying to be as gentle as he could.

They sat in comfortable silence for a while, Dean's presence offering Sophia a sense of peace. A few minutes after she'd fallen asleep on his shoulder, a loud knock echoed through the house, followed by a voice Dean recognized all too well.

"Open up!" Luke practically screamed.

Dean's expression darkened as his sister jerked awake. "I'll get it," he said as their mother appeared, looking worried and angry.

"He's been by three times in the past two days. Each time I've just ignored him. With your truck out front, I doubt he'll go away anytime soon," she whispered once they were out of the living room. His mother kept glancing back at Sophia.

"Keep an eye on her," he said with a nod. He walked to the front door and opened it to find Luke standing there, looking disheveled and angry. "What do you want?" he asked.

"I need to talk to my wife," Luke demanded, trying to push past him.

Instantly, Dean knew the man was drunk. He blocked Luke from entering the house, his voice calm but firm. "Ex-wife. And she doesn't need this right now. She's trying to rest."

Luke glared at him. "You don't get to decide that. She's my wife, and I need to talk to her."

"She's my sister, and she's been through enough today," he shot back, his patience wearing thin. "If you care anything about her, you wouldn't have left her when she needed you most."

Luke's face twisted with anger. "You don't understand. I was overwhelmed. I didn't know how to handle it. She lost her"—he held his hands up—"what makes her a woman."

Dean's eyes narrowed. "It's just sad that you think that. And yet you think showing up here and starting a fight is the way to handle things now?" Dean retorted, his voice rising.

Luke tried to push past him again, but Dean stood his ground. "You're not seeing her, Luke. Not tonight. She needs peace, not more stress."

Someone honked and Luke glanced over his shoulder. He'd gotten a ride there, so at least Dean wouldn't have to call him one. He was swaying and obviously too far gone to drive.

Luke's shoulders sagged, the fight seeming to drain out of him. "Just…tell her I stopped by."

"I'll tell her. It looks like your ride is anxious to get going now," Dean said after the car honked again. The fact that it was a woman behind the wheel pissed him off even more.

Luke nodded reluctantly and walked back down the path. Dean watched him go, wishing he could have punched the guy. Pity that he hadn't stopped his sister from marrying such a loser in the first place. Back then, Sophia was too headstrong to listen to him anyway.

He closed the door and took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions inside him.

He returned to the living room and found both his mother and sister looking at him with concern. "Was that Luke?" Sophia asked.

"Yeah," Dean admitted, sitting back down beside her as their mother watched. "He wanted to talk to you, but I sent him away. You don't need that stress right now."

Sophia sighed, tears glistening in her eyes. "Thank you. I don't think I could handle seeing him right now. He's seeing someone new."

Dean squeezed her hand gently. "I know. You don't have to see him if you don't want to. I'm here for you, and so is Mom. We'll get through this together."

Sophia smiled through her tears, her grip on his hand tightening. "I'm so glad I have you both."

"Always," Dean said softly.

"Always," their mother agreed.

He sat with his family watching television until Sophia fell back to sleep. He would do whatever it took to support her and help her heal, both physically and emotionally. She deserved nothing less.

He thought about his sister and Luke while he drove himself back to his small apartment a few hours later.

He knew that Sophia had desperately wanted to live happily ever after with Luke.

Their mother had wanted the same thing with their father, David Wallis, a man that had spent less than eight years in his and Sophia's lives. Shortly after Sophia had turned two, David had died in a car crash, leaving the family that loved him far too early.

After his father's death, his mother had tried to date several times, none of which had amounted to anything.

The three of them had formed a bond so tight, nothing could get between them. Not even his sister's ex.

Even with his mother's and sister's luck in love, he still held out hope for them and for himself.

His past relationships hadn't amounted to much. The longest he'd been with anyone was a whopping six weeks. Lindy had grown bored of him three weeks into the relationship. Or so she'd told him as she'd kicked him out of her car in the middle of the parking lot at the restaurant they'd just eaten at.

It was funny how she'd decided that after he'd paid for their very expensive dinner. Lindy had cost him a lot in those few weeks he'd spent with her, and on her way out, she'd cleared out the tip jar he kept in his closet. About the only good thing that had come from that relationship was his habit of depositing his tips more often and not trusting anyone he slept with.

His mind flashed to Andrea and the handful of people he trusted at River Camp. They were different.

They were as much his family as his mother and Sophia were.