The Surfer Solution

by Cathy Yardley

  “He’ll be promoted by the end of next week,” she said. “So, if everyone’s healthy and you’ve delivered your party invitation...”

  He sat down on her love seat, and she sighed. This wasn’t a check-in, she could just tell.

  “Mom and Dad have been asking about you,” he said with all the solemnity of Al Pacino in The Godfather.

  She sat down across from him on the couch. She couldn’t quite believe she was having this conversation. “Why are they worried, exactly?” She supposed it was petty to point out that they hadn’t worried when, say, she actually lived there, or when she was cracking up in college. That kind of thing she really should’ve let go of by now.

  His frown deepened. “You’ve just been acting really strange,” he said, making a nebulous sort of motion with his hand.

  “Anything specific?”

  “What’s all this about you surfing, for example?”

  She closed her eyes, and let out a deep breath that she hadn’t realized she was holding. “This is all because of the surfing crack I made at Christmas, isn’t it?” She felt a little relief, even though she realized she was still tense “Don’t worry. I’m being very careful, and I’m taking lessons from a really good instructor.” You don't know how good, she thought, and carefully schooled her face to remain impassive. Rod was sharp about reading people—it was part of what made him such a great businessman. “You know how thorough I am, anyway. When has one of us not been a great student?”

  Rod looked as if he was weighing her words, and she held her breath again. “Is that all there is to this?”

  Now she felt anger start to spark through her system. “Exactly when did we fall into some kind of Jane Austen period piece, where the older brother lectures the flighty younger sister on her behavior?”

  “When my younger sister started flaking out on the job promotion she’s been talking about for months,” he said bluntly. “Listen. I know I haven’t been there much for you, but Mom and Dad really think that something’s going on. And you have to admit, you’ve been acting pretty odd. Normally I could set my watch by your routine.”

  She winced at the obvious truth in his words. Damn, but I’m boring.

  “My life is changing,” she admitted. “I don’t know what that means. But I do know that Mom and Dad really don’t need to worry about it.” She paused, and smiled at him. “And neither do you, Rod.”

  He scowled.

  “But,” she added with a smile in her voice, “I’m kind of glad that you’re worried.”

  Rod looked startled at this admission, then shrugged, even as she saw some of the tension leave his face. “Yeah. Well...you know.”

  “Yeah,” she said. “I know.”

  It was probably the closest her brother had ever come to admitting he loved her. As far as she was concerned, it was close enough.

  “So, what’s going on with the job?” he said, trying to get back to territory where he felt comfortable.

  She sighed. “I got taken off the account.”

  He now looked appalled. So much for closeness, she thought, wishing abruptly that Sean was there for a hug. “What did you do?”

  “I sort of told my boss he was a vicious micromanager,” she admitted.

  “Good grief. Then what? Did you insult his mother?” Rod shook his head. “What in the world possessed you to do something so completely...”

  He trailed off, and she smirked. “Dumb?”

  "To say the least!”

  She flopped back against the cushions of the couch. Raised in their family, of course she realized just how rash her actions were. “I was in a weird place,” she said, then noticed Rod’s puzzled expression. “Haven’t you just ever wondered why the hell you’re going through all of it? All the stress? All the pressure? Haven’t you ever sat down and asked yourself, is any of this worth it?”

  “Hell, no,” he said with obvious revulsion.

  Of course he hadn’t. She had to be the freak of the gene pool. She rubbed her eyes. “Okay, let me put this a different way. Have you ever asked yourself how you ever got this lucky?”

  “It’s not luck,” he said immediately. “I work hard for everything I have.”

  “Yeah, but have you ever thought how glad you are to have it?”

  “Sure,” he said, but he sounded a lot less certain.

  “Really?” she pressed. “You’ve actually thought about how happy you are in your life?”

  “Well, I don’t sit around like some self-help nutcase,” he said, sounding insulted. “I don’t dwell on it or anything.”

  “I’m not happy,” she said. “Or at least...I haven’t been happy. I think I’m finally figuring that out.”

  “We can’t be happy all the time,” he said in that maddening I’m-older-and-know-better voice of his that she loathed.

  “I’m not asking for all the time,” she said, and even as she said it, she realized—you ’re pretty much happy all the time around Sean. “Anyway, I also realize that I can do something about it. I’ve got a plan.”

  “As long as this plan doesn’t include throwing your career away,” Rod warned. “You’ve worked too hard to toss it all down the toilet just because you’re a little unhappy.”

  She sighed. He was never going to get it. “Don’t you have a meeting or conference call or something else important that you have to rush off to?”

  He stood up. “I can see I’ve worn out my welcome,” he said with a smirk. “Still, don’t forget what I said. And check in with Mom. She’s a little frantic, and that’s unusual for her. At least, when she’s not under deadline.”

  “Will do,” Allison said, opening the front door and resisting the urge to kick him out of it. But before he could step out, Sean stepped in...and kissed her, long and hard.

  Her mind spun, the way it always did when his lips touched hers, and for a flash of a second, she forgot that Rod was standing in her foyer. She just leaned in and enjoyed the taste of Sean, the feel of him.

  “Something you neglected to mention, sis?” Rod’s voice was utterly unamused, and much louder than usual.

  She pulled back, then the two of them looked over at Rod. His eyes, brown like hers, looked hard as stone.

  “Uh...this is Sean. Sean Gilroy.”

  Sean sized up Rod, then held out a hand. “Nice to meet you.”

  Rod didn’t return the pleasantry, and paused, meaningfully, before shaking Sean’s hand. “It’s obvious you know my sister,” Rod said, each word staccato. “Are you her boyfriend?”

  Sean looked at Allison, startled. “Well...”

  “Or are you just sleeping with her?”

  Now Sean’s eyes flashed. “I’m not ‘just’ anything with her,” Sean said sharply, and Allison quickly jumped in before violence broke out.

  “Rod,” she said sharply, “you’ve said what you needed to say. I’ll call Mom tomorrow at work. I promise. Now, why don’t you go.”

  Rod sent one last menacing look to Sean, before staring at Allison. “I hope you know what the hell you’re doing.” Sean took a protective step in front of Allison, looking angrier than she had ever seen him. When Rod disappeared down the street, Sean shut the door, then enveloped Allison in a strong hug.

  “Whoa,” she said, surprised, but melted into the hug nonetheless. “Well. How was your morning?”

  “Not great, but I get the feeling yours was worse,” Sean said, and his words warmed her like a bonfire. “So. That was your older brother, and I assume he was giving you grief?”

  “It’s an older brother’s prerogative,” she said with a shaky laugh, even as she felt her brother’s glare in absentia.

  Sean leaned down and kissed her softly on the temple. “I guess I can’t blame him for being protective,” he said philosophically. “But I have to say, any guy takes that tone of voice with you, and I instantly have the overwhelming urge to beat on him.”

  “Really?” She didn’t know why that pleased her, but absurdly, she felt comforted. “I don�
�t think that’ll be necessary, but it’s nice of you to say.” Then she remembered the beginning of his sentence. “What happened this morning? You said you had a bad day.”

  “I don’t want to talk about it,” he said, stroking her cheek. “I just want to get out on the ocean, with you, and put this whole morning behind us.”

  She leaned against him. Simple words. She had a lot to think about—the presentation tomorrow, her mom, her dad... her brother’s warning.

  But that was tomorrow.

  “Let’s go,” she said, and kissed him.

       

  SEAN WALKED HIS BOARD out into the swells, looking over to where Allison was doing the same thing. He dived into a wave headfirst, getting his hair wet, and surfaced, a bubble of pure joy expanding in his chest. He was surfing, which he loved. And he was with Allison, whom he also...

  He stopped himself abruptly, bobbing over a wave.

  Actually, he wasn’t sure how he felt about Allison.

  Are you her boyfriend... or are you just sleeping with her?

  Just the memory of her brother’s irate question was enough to make his heart start pounding with rage. He didn’t just sleep with Allison. Having said that—he’d like to be Allison’s boyfriend. That is, if being her “boyfriend” meant going to sleep with her compact little body against his, waking every day to that mind-blowing smile of hers, spending every single day thinking of how to make her feel better, and sharing the best parts of his life with her.

  Yeah, he supposed he wanted to be her “boyfriend” then. He guessed that they could “date.”

  “Sean!” she called out, smiling broadly at him as she paddled. “How’m I doing?”

  “Beautiful,” he said, meaning it on a couple of levels. She was actually getting pretty proficient, for somebody just at it a few weeks. She was still a rank beginner, but she had something that other beginners didn’t have. She genuinely loved surfing. You could tell the difference in how she concentrated—in her fearlessness. In her dedication.

  He wondered if she’d bring the same level of commitment to being a girlfriend.. .and if she considered herself his.

  Dangerous thoughts, Gilroy.

  He got on his board, gauging the waves. It was a pretty

  low set, not a lull, but nothing to write home about, and there were hardly any other surfers out. Perfect for Allison to practice on, but not much for him to work with, nothing challenging. He signaled, got on his board, carved a little, switching back as best he could on the small crest.

  “Whoo!” Allison called, admiration clear in her voice.

  With all the grace of someone who had been surfing for more than twenty years, he skimmed over the top of the diminishing wave and dropped back down onto his board. “Now you try... The next one looks pretty good,” he called out encouragingly.

  Allison got that look of determination, and she paddled out, catching the wave as it started to crest. She popped up, hobbled, and fell in. “Grrr!” she yelped when she surfaced, but she was laughing, not angry like she was the first time they’d gone out in the water.

  She never gave up, he thought. She always kept doggedly pursuing... only now, he saw that she was also genuinely appreciating and truly enjoying.

  God, she’s beautiful when she’s happy.

  She got back on her board and paddled up to him. “I’m still not getting it. Think you can help me?”

  She had a dangerous glint in her eyes. His body responded with its characteristic tightening. He felt like a teenager, a randy one at that, and he was glad that Mark and the guys weren’t around to witness this. The other surfers were packing it in, driving away. It was just the two of them.

  “I’ll be right back,” he said, and with the speed of a sprinter, he rode a wave back to the beach, left his board and swam back out to where she was lying on her board. “Now. Where were we?”

  “I need your help,” she said with a suggestive pout. “I’m still not quite getting the hang of this.”

  “It takes a while,” he said, even though he was fairly certain at this point that “this” had nothing to do with surfing. “You’ll get it.”

  “Why don’t you get on the board and help me out?” she said. “Show me where I’m going wrong.”

  He looked at her board. It was a long board, so it was slow, and it could, in theory, accommodate two people, even though he hadn’t surfed double in forever. “I guess,” he said. “Climb on. I’ll get on behind you.”

  There it was again—that glint, and that devilish smile that suggested that riding tandem was just what she had in mind. She straddled the board, and the look of invitation she shot over her shoulder was unmistakable. He smirked, then climbed on the board behind her, scooting up so his body fit hers. She sighed, leaning back against him, making sure her backside rubbed against him. If it weren’t for the wet suit, they’d be in real trouble here, he thought, holding her hips and pulling her against him. They just sat there for a second as he kissed her neck, his hands smoothing over her front as she moaned. They bobbed in the water, the swells nudging them. It was calm, the sound of the seagulls crying countered by the constant crash...the sun shining brightly.

  It was, in a word, perfect.

  He sighed raggedly. He was lucky. He was so incredibly lucky for this moment. For this girl.

  “If we stay out here another minute, I’m going to take you,” he said. “And then we’re going to drown.”

  “Well, nobody wants that,” she said with a shivery little laugh. “So why don’t we go back in, head back to my place and...”

  She wiggled suggestively. She didn’t have to say another word.

  “Okay,” he said, looking back and gauging the waves. There was one wave, bigger than the others... The tide was starting to come in. This one would be a mini barrel.

  “Scoot up toward the front of the board and kneel,” he said, still watching the wave. She was giggling, but she did as he suggested, an edge of excitement in her laughter. He paddled, anticipating...leading the wave. Then he hit the right spot, popped up and rode the wave.

  She screamed with delight as they picked up speed, dancing across the water like a sandpiper. He grinned broadly.

  Perfect. No matter what else happened, he had today.

       

  ALLISON WALKED INTO WORK early on the thirty-first. New Year’s Eve. She didn’t really celebrate New Year’s, as a general rule, other than her enforced presence at her parents’ annual party.

  But today, she was a strange mix of feelings. She was dreading the presentation, the final nail in the coffin of her career here at Flashpoint Advertising. She knew that some part of her was going to hate watching all of her hard work being rattled off by Kate and Peter, and Frank would probably do what he could to make her feel shut out. She knew that, on any other day, she would be near tears. She’d probably be breathing in a paper bag as Gary set up a coffee-drip IV. She would normally be on the razor’s edge of keeping her grip.

  She smiled, stroking a sea-smoothed pebble that she’d picked up on her last beach outing with Sean.

  There was nothing normal or usual about her anymore, she thought. Not since surfing. Not since Sean.

  I think I’m in love with him.

  Gary peeked his head in. “It’s been two days,” he said. He looked haggard, and there were circles under his eyes. “And it’s been pure hell.”

  “Oh, yikes,” she said immediately as he walked in and closed the door. He handed her a large coffee, then sat down in one of her chairs and took a large swig from his own coffee. “That bad, huh?”

  “I thought Kate was going to beat Peter to death with a stapler,” Gary said. “And after last night, I would’ve handed one to her. They’ve been nuts.”

  “How is Frank letting this happen?” Allison marveled. “He’s usually so on top of things.”

  “He’s been trying to see which one of them was going to survive,” Gary replied. “That, and he’s used to
working with you. Kate’s got a temper, and Peter’s passive-aggressive. Frank’s been going progressively balder from tearing his hair out.”

  Allison grinned. She knew it was probably uncharitable, but some small part of her relished the image. She knew she probably shouldn’t have mentioned all his shortcomings, but at least she got the vindication of seeing him find out just how hard she’d worked, and what a good worker she was, all on his own. “Guess we’re in for a show this afternoon, then,” she said.

  Gary stared at her for a second. “You know,” he said reflectively, “I don’t think I’ve seen you this relaxed, ever, in the whole time I’ve known you.”

  She smiled back. “Thanks. I don’t think I’ve ever felt—”

  The door burst open. Frank was standing there, his hair sticking up comically, his tie askew. He was wearing his “big-boy suit,” the black pinstripe Hugo Boss that he only wore to the most important client meetings. His eyes looked bloodshot and his expression was harried.

  “Allison,” he said, and it was a plea for mercy. “Where have you been?”

  She clamped down on a smirk. It wasn’t nice, she reminded herself, even if it was funny. “You told me to stay home for a couple of days,” she said with a small shrug. “So I stayed home.”

  “It’s been pandemonium!” He looked as if he’d just been chased into her office by villagers carrying pitchforks. “Nobody could get a hold of you! Peter’s threatening to quit. Kate’s locked herself in the women’s bathroom. I’ve got clients coming in just over two hours. What are we going to do?”

  Allison blinked as she processed that bit of information. She knew that she was an important part of the team, but she hadn’t anticipated this kind of delirium. It was flattering, and not a bit scary.

  “Wow,” she murmured, looking at Gary, who was rolling his eyes because Frank couldn’t see it. She grinned, tongue in cheek. “I go surfing for a couple of days, and all hell breaks loose.”