The Surfer Solution

by Cathy Yardley

She paddled back out, caught another couple of waves. She deliberately avoided staring at the sand. Partially because Sean had taught her not to look at the beach: you looked where you wanted to go, not at your board, not at your feet, not at the sand. You stared at the wave. You kept looking ahead.

  For a guy who couldn’t seem to look at his wave, when it came to relationships, he seemed to have really good advice.

  The irony was so thick you could cut it with a knife.

  She looked out on the beach, against her own admonishments... just hoping, as always, that he might be there. That he might somehow get it together, decide he wanted her back. Decide he wanted her.

  Instead, she saw four people who looked as if they had absolutely no business on the beach at all.

  As per usual, she lost her sweet spot, spilling into the water. It was a bit of a relief, actually. The darkness and silence underwater gave her a moment to balance. A moment to process the scene she had just witnessed.

  That’s my family out there.

  She came up, took a deep breath, pushed her hair out of her eyes. Then, slowly, methodically, she made her way back to shore.

  They were staring at her warily, as if she might explode at any minute. “Allison,” her mother said, her eyes entreating.

  “Hi, Mom,” Allison said, wringing water out of her hair. “Wow. Weird to see all of you here.”

  Her little sister at least had kicked off her shoes. Her brother was frowning in such a way that Alison felt sure he was regretting that he’d left his expensive Italian wingtips on. The man no doubt had sand in his shoes and his socks. Allison grinned.

  Her father grinned back a little. “We were just a touch concerned,” he said with no preamble. “Claire Tilson said that you were almost always at the beach.”

  “I had no idea that you’d grown so close to Claire,” her mother added, sounding a little... odd.

  Jealous? Allison blinked. No, that wasn’t right. Her mother barely tuned in to Allison’s life unless there was a problem. That wasn’t a judgment. That was just a statement of fact.

  “We thought that maybe you should try a different hobby,” her father said. “Surfing is too dangerous!”

  “Surfing is probably the healthiest thing in my life right now,” she said, unstrapping the Velcro band that tethered her board to her ankle. “I know you guys don’t understand it, and that’s okay. You don’t need to. But I will ask you to respect my choices.”

  Her mother bit her lip, looking at Rod. Rod cleared his throat. “You snapped, sis,” he said. “We understand that.”

  “No, I don’t think you do,” Allison said. “Because if you did, you’d realize how close each of you are to the same thing. Dad, you work, what, ninety hours a week? Mom, you’re always on one promotional tour or another, or locked up in your study working on a book. Rod, your girlfriend’s just about ready to leave you. And Beth... hell, you’re a poster child for a neighborhood ax murderer in the making.”

  Beth jumped up as if goosed. “That is so not true!”

  “Okay, I’m exaggerating a little,” Allison said, with a small smile. “But the fact is, we’re a family of workaholics.”

  “That’s sort of a facile generalization,” her father grumped.

  “Call it what you like. The bottom line is, I don’t want to be that anymore. I want to have a marriage and kids. I want to have fun. I want to have a life.” She took a deep breath, staring at each one in turn. “I want to surf."

  They stared back at her, bewildered.

  “I know you didn’t understand what I had with Sean, either,” Allison said quietly. “But he understood me. And he understood this. Living, enjoying every single moment that you’re given. The idea of stressing out about a stupid dog- food commercial finally stands out in sharp relief. Nothing’s more important than loving people and enjoying every single moment you’re given. Nothing.”

  Her mother walked next to her, and to Allison’s surprise, gave her a small hug. “You’re absolutely right, of course,” she said. “You know...I think I’d like to write a book about your findings. I’ve considered tackling the subject of workaholism for a few years now.”

  Allison sighed, shaking her head. Not that she should’ve expected her mom to get it, but...

  “I think I’d like you to help me with it,” her mother continued, her normally forceful voice sounding timid. “You’ve got a great perspective.” She paused. “Maybe we could spend some time together, and do that.”

  Allison’s mouth fell open as the size of her mother’s olive branch suddenly became apparent to her.

  “I could help with that, too, you know,” Beth protested, then blushed. “Apparently, according to you, I’m on the razor’s edge of a psychotic break.”

  “We could all help,” Rod agreed, and Allison’s shock redoubled when he put a companionable arm around Beth, squeezing her. “You don’t comer the market on stress, you know.”

  “Dork,” Beth said, hitting his shoulder. And for a moment, they seemed...close. As picture perfect as a family as dysfunctional as theirs was going to get.

  Allison hugged her mother and her father, who was looking a little shell-shocked. “I’d love to help,” Allison said with a wide smile.

  Her father stared at the board. “You know, the guys at the office would be impressed as all hell if I learned how to surf,” he mused. “Especially at my age.”

  She laughed. “Well, you’ll need to start from scratch and take it easy.”

  “Could I take lessons from you?”

  She thought of how Sean taught her...

  “Well, I can’t really teach you everything, but I can show you the basics,” she offered, closing her eyes and thinking of Sean. “But I learned from the best.”

  Standing there, surrounded by her family, she felt some of the bruise that had haunted her heart recede, just a bit.

       

  “YOU MIGHT BE WONDERING why I called you all here today.” Sean stood in his living room, surrounded by all of his friends, a bunch of chart pads and several cases of beer. He had no intention of drinking the beer. Still, he didn’t know how long he’d be keeping everyone, so he figured better safe than sorry. They were staring at him like he’d gone out of his mind.

  “What, exactly, are we talking about here, Sean?” Ryan was the first to ask.

  “I didn’t take the job at Lone Shark,” Sean started a bit obliquely. “I thought I was going to take it. I thought it was what I was supposed to do. I mean, hell, I’m thirty-one. I need to grow up, get a real job, right?”

  “It’s not so much that,” Charlotte protested. “It’s just you’re capable of so much....”

  “I know that.” At least, he knew that now. Thanks to Allison, and her belief in him. “But the thing is, it wasn’t what I wanted to do. It might make sense—”

  “And a lot more money,” Mike pointed out.

  “Yeah, but the thing is, I love the surf shop. I know all the surfers, of all ages, in Redondo Beach. I’ve sold ’em their boards. I’ve taught the kids. I’ve competed with the guys. I’ve made great friends. The shop isn’t just someplace I go to make a living. It’s been the center of my life.”

  The group assembled nodded, and Gabe sighed heavily. “I know,” Gabe said. “But be that as it may, Oz is still selling the shop. Your realization isn’t going to change that.”

  There was a knock on the door. Since most of the Hoodlums were already assembled, he figured it was the only person missing: Jack Landor. He got the door.

  It was Jack, all right, with Mrs. Tilson in tow. “You didn’t tell me you were having a party,” Mrs. Tilson reproved.

  “Wasn’t really a party,” Sean said, pecking her cheek, gratified when she smiled in response.

  “But now that you’re here, Mrs. T...” Ryan added, grinning wickedly.

  She shot him a look that would’ve frozen pond water, and Ryan looked repentant for all of about two seconds.

  “It’s more a
brainstorming session than a party,” Sean continued.

  “Brainstorming? For what?” She sat down on the couch, next to Charlotte and Bella.

  “We’re trying to help Sean figure out what to do with the rest of his life,” Bella said helpfully, trying to bring Mrs. T up to speed.

  “No, we’re not,” Sean corrected. “I know what I want to do with the rest of my life.”

  “You might know what you want in your life,” Gabe corrected. “You want to work in the surf shop, but that’s not going to happen.”

  “Not the way it stands now,” Sean countered.

  Gabe frowned. “I don’t see what you’re getting at.”

  Sean took a deep breath. “What I’m getting at is: I want to buy the surf shop.”

  The sheer audacity of the idea stunned the group into silence. That is, all except for Mrs. Tilson, who nodded with satisfaction.

  “Now we’re talking,” she said with relish. “It’s what I thought you should do all along, my dear boy.”

  “Really?” Sean gaped at her.

  “You obviously love the establishment, and I have to say, from what I saw, it’s equally apparent you’ve been the one running it. So why shouldn’t you buy it?”

  “Uh... for one thing, I’m not exactly rich,” he pointed out.

  “That’s what investors are for,” Mrs. Tilson said with a negligent shrug. “Good grief. You don’t think that big businessmen purchase all their real estate in cash and their franchises on their own credit, do you?”

  “She has a point,” Jack mused. “I’ve been dabbling in real estate, and getting a collective together. I took a look at Tubes. The building itself’s a great investment…”

  “I know that, too,” Mrs. Tilson said. “I did some research.”

  Now the entire room stared at her.

  “I’m eighty-four and I don’t exactly have a life,” she said with a sort of formal asperity. “Kindly quit staring. I’ll be more than happy to let you all in on the investment opportunity.”

  “I’m in,” Gabe said immediately, looking at Charlotte.

  “Correction. We’re in,” she said, putting her hand over his and smiling when he kissed her.

  “Hey, I’m in, too,” Jack said, his movie-star smile broad.

  “We’re in,” Mike and Ryan said, giving each other a high five.

  Sean felt the tension, the creeping fear, that had been building since the idea had crept into his head. It intensified. “I can’t guarantee anything,” he said, unable to bear the idea of misleading his friends. “You’re all saying this now, but Oz has been having a hard time. I can’t guarantee that you’ll make any kind of profit. For all I know, the business will go under, and you’ll all lose money. This is a huge risk.”

  “Yeah, I guess,” Gabe said, clapping him on the shoulder. “But we believe in you.”

  Sean felt a lump in his throat. He hadn’t believed in himself. Not until he’d met Allison, and started to think beyond what he was doing. Think about why he was doing what he was doing. Dream of something more.

  Dream, in short, of a life with the most amazing woman he’d ever known.

  “Okay, I’m glad we got that out of the way,” he said, clearing his throat of the huskiness caused by his emotions. “On to brainstorming my second problem. I call this Operation Win Allison Back.”

  Charlotte, Bella and Mrs. Tilson grinned at each other. “Now we’re really talking,” Charlotte said, and everyone laughed.

       

  ALLISON LOOKED DOWN at the store-opening invitation in her hand, ignoring the wave of pain that being in front of this particular building inevitably brought. It had been eight weeks since she’d been anywhere near it. Obviously, the new owners had bought a mailing list of Oz’s prior customers, because the invitation was addressed to “local surfer,” and the only people who knew that about her could be counted on one hand. This new store was slick, vibrant, totally revamped.

  It was also no longer Tubes.

  She glanced up. The familiar faded sign had been replaced with a new sign. Seventh Wave, it read, with a stylized wave design that she had to admit looked pretty sharp—not too sharp, though. It was simple and looked good. The whole place looked nice, but not too nice. It looked surf friendly.

  Honestly… it was pretty awesome.

  She hated it.

  On the other hand, she had a coupon in her hand, she needed a few hoodies and some surf wax. And she had to admit, she wanted to see the thing that had forced Sean out of business and into her life.

  You just can’t let it go, can you? After two months, you still can’ t let him go.

  She focused on the store instead. It had a huge selection of surfboards, not just for sale, but a few hanging suspended from the ceiling. Vintage boards, she could tell. There was a good selection of wet suits for people of all shapes and sizes. There was even a large selection of surf videos and magazines. It looked gorgeous, and the prices weren’t even that unreasonable.

  She felt her anger ebbing as regret and sadness slowly seeped in to take its place. She saw a counter in the back, separate from the sales registers. It was dedicated to sign-ups for surf lessons, surf tours and volunteer sign-ups for surfers- healing.org, a charity she’d heard of, where surfers volunteered to take autistic kids out on surfboards, with amazing results. There was a community bulletin board. There were pictures of the local kids, including her buddies the otters, she noticed, all grinning and giving the thumbs-up to the camera. Apparently, Seventh Wave was sponsoring the junior-high surf team.

  Sean would have loved this, she thought with a stab of regret. She hoped that in time, the feeling would lessen, even if it didn’t seem as if it would any time soon.

  “Allison,” she heard a voice say behind her. “You made it.”

  It was Sean’s friend Gabe, flanked by the whole surf crew. It was then that she realized of course that Sean would be working here.

  Oh, because just what I needed right now was irony, she thought just before she was hit with a harsher realization.

  He’s here. Now.

  At which point, the only thought that was left in her head was to run away. Fast.

  “I’m really sorry,” she said quickly, and was already turning before she even finished her sentence. “I have to... I was just stopping in for a second... I’ll come back later.”

  She turned, not even listening to his protests in her urgent desire to escape. Which is probably how she didn’t notice another person sidling up beside her. She walked smack into his chest with a soft oof.

  The familiar scent of him overwhelmed her, and a sense of longing rolled over her, drowning her. She looked up into his eyes, her own vision edged with tears.

  “Hi, Sean,” she murmured.

  He smiled, then took her arm. “I’ve been waiting for you,” he said, his voice raspy. “Come on.”

  They left Gabe and the Hoodlums standing there as he led her through the crowd, past the counters and through the back office. It was as she suspected. He was working there now. And he no longer seemed angry with her.

  She felt the tiniest glimmer of hope.

  Of course, the fact that he was angry with you wasn’t really the problem.

  He took her up a flight of stairs, and it got quieter as they got farther away from the grand-opening bash. Only moonlight illuminated the unfinished and now-empty apartment. The apartment, she realized, where he had lived when she met him. Before she crashed into his life.

  She cleared her throat, needing to say something, anything. “Won’t the owner mind you taking me up here?” she asked.

  Then she could’ve kicked herself. The man you’re in love with gets you alone, you can barely breathe for wanting him...and you bring up getting in trouble with his boss.

  No wonder she was still single.

  In the dim light, she could make out Sean’s look of surprise. “Don’t worry,” he finally said, and she could’ve sworn there was a small grin on his face. �
�The owners are pretty cool.”

  They stood there for a second, staring at each other.

  I can’t take it, Allison thought. I just can’t take it.

  Then, almost imperceptibly, Sean held out his arms.

  She moved into his embrace with a low sob, and his arms closed around her like steel bands. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” she said, her voice breaking. “I didn’t... I was so hung up on where I thought I had to go, and I just didn’t know how to get past it. I didn’t mean what I said to you. I had already fallen in love with you, and I was scared....”

  “Shhh,” he soothed, stroking her hair, then kissing her temple. “Baby, you weren’t wrong. I was so into not changing myself that I didn’t realize I was hung up on what I thought my life had to be like. I didn’t look at any other option—it was just win or lose. And I wound up losing you. And that just didn’t work for me.”

  “I quit,” she said, stroking her cheek against his chest. “I was just trying to prove something to my family. To other people. It wasn’t worth it.”

  “I was just running,” Sean countered. “So I stopped running. And I bought this store.”

  “Hello. What?” She pulled away, her eyes wide. “You... you’re the owner?”

  “One of ’em, anyway,” he said. “I’ve got investors backing me. Your godmother being one of them, bless her.”

  “Aunt Claire is part owner of a surf shop,” she marveled. “That’s kind of perfect. In a twisted sort of way.”

  “So are you, you know,” he said. “Perfect for me, anyway. You showed me that if I didn’t want to do something that I hated, then I had to go all out going after the things that I really loved.” He paused, then framed her face with his hands. “And I really love you.”

  Her heart filled with the joy of it. “Guess we both made the right decision, then. Because I really love you, too, Sean Gilroy.” She smiled widely. “And I always get what I want.”

  “And I’m genuinely thankful for that,” he answered, and kissed her.

  And now... a sneak peek!