I bit back tears. “So, what happened?”
“Don’t you want to hear how fun the helicopter ride was?”
“Butch—”
“Always wanted to ride in one of those things.”
I knew the only way to get through to Butch was humor. “Did you join the mile high club?” I said.
He smiled. “Don’t I wish.”
I touched his leg. “You don’t want to talk about it?”
He exhaled. “Sure, I do. Pretty gnarly ride.”
Butch looked like he was woozy from whatever they’d given him. He took a deep breath, readjusted his position in the hospital bed, and told me the story. “Dropped in too deep. Made it to the bottom before the whitewater pushed me down.”
I already knew the answer, but asked, “Weren’t wearing your flotation vest?”
“Nope.”
We’d surfed plenty without flotation vests, but in recent years, as technology advanced, most big wave surfers didn’t go without them. “Go on.”
“The hold-down on the first wave was so long. Jesus, it was brutal. I thought about staying down because I knew there was a good chance I wouldn’t get to the surface for air before the next wave in the set rolled over.”
“Then what happened?”
“I decided to swim for the surface anyway. Big mistake. I kicked hard, and that’s when I felt the next wave coming.”
Jesus Christ, that may have been the wave I was riding.
“Next thing I knew, all the air was forced out of me, and I was back down. Did my best to relax. That’s when the convulsions started. I wanted to inhale, but I didn’t. Just tried to stay calm.” He took a deep breath as though he was still desperate for air, and exhaled audibly. Butch looked exhausted.
My body was rigid listening to his story. “And then what happened?”
“I needed air bad, started climbing my leash, but then the cramping, numbness, and convulsions started again. That’s when I passed out.”
I sucked in my breath, almost like I was reliving the nightmare with my friend. “And that’s when the rescue sled found you?”
“Pretty much.”
We looked at each other, the silence in the room emotionally charged.
At that point, the doctor, a petite brunette, walked in and said, “How are you feeling? You gave us a scare.”
I stood up. “Jax Priest,” I said, shaking her hand. “I’m the boy’s best friend.”
She consulted her clipboard, glanced at me, and said, “Dr. Bryant. Summer Bryant.” She bent over to examine Butch—temperature, blood pressure—and as she fussed over him, I noticed Butch checking out her cute figure. Why was she taking his vitals? Didn’t nurses usually perform that task? The slight smile on her face told me something more was going on. “You know you came within seconds of not being here.” She straightened and launched into presentation mode. “It’s a good thing Butch didn’t take a breath. He must have some pretty well trained lungs. His laryngospasm reflex kicked in.”
“His what?”
“Laryngospasm reflex. Do you train yourself to hold your breath?”
Butch gazed at Dr. Bryant and nodded.
“Well, that’s what saved you. The laryngospasm reflex is a natural mammalian survival reflex that happens during drowning or blacking out in water in which your throat and face muscles constrict, shutting off the airway to keep water from entering your lungs. In the process, the last oxygen left with the body is drawn to the brain to preserve it for as long as possible. When the final oxygen is used up, the muscles will release and the body will naturally try and breathe. But you didn’t take a breath, did you?”
Butch, who seemed tongue-tied, shook his head.
“Well, if you had, your lungs would’ve flooded.”
Butch eyed Dr. Bryant like he was under hypnosis, not saying a word.
“Is he going to be okay?”
“We’ll keep him to monitor for secondary drowning, and he did dislocate his shoulder. We were able to reset it, so that’s good. Some of the surfers I get in here are not so lucky. What are you guys doing down there at Mavericks? Not safe.” She checked the ice pack that was on Butch’s shoulder. “I need to get a new ice pack for you. If you need anything else, just press this button right here, and one of the nurses will help you.”
“How long will you keep him?” I asked.
“You’re one strong man, Mr. Wolf. As much as I know you want to be a guest at Stanford, I think you should be released in a day or two. And no surfing until that shoulder heals.”
“Which will be how long?” I said.
“A few weeks on ice and anti-inflammatories.”
She pointed a finger at Butch. “I probably can’t rein you in, but when you do get back in the ocean, I want you to stay on the smaller waves. At least for a while.” Her smile lit up her face.
Dr. Bryant moved across the room, and Butch’s gaze followed. She pulled the drawstring on the drapes. “Sunsets here are gorgeous.” She turned and smiled at Butch, and I swear to God, it looked like the poor man was going to drool. She patted him on his good leg. “Rest up, and I’ll be back.”
When she left the room, Butch stared at the empty doorway. I snapped my fingers in front of his face. “Earth to Butch. Hey, you okay, buddy?”
He jerked to attention. “What? Um, yeah.”
We sat and talked. I didn’t want things to be serious, so we kidded around mostly. I wanted to tell my best friend about Rosalyn. No one knew about us. The only person I’d told was Tyler. The one thing I had done right was to honor the vow Rosalyn had made me take. “You can never tell anyone what’s happened between us.” So instead, I told Butch, “I got the weirdest call today.”
“Yeah? From who?”
“Old friend of the family. Her name’s Rosalyn. She’s in Santa Cruz.”
“What’d she want?”
“Search me. Haven’t talked to her in over thirteen years.”
“And?”
“She wants to see me tomorrow.”
“Well, that sounds cool.”
Butch stared at me, expecting me to go on, but I didn’t.
Several other surfers came and went, each expressing their relief that Butch was still with us.
Butch and I watched dumb TV shows, ate bad food from the dinner tray the orderly delivered, and finally, I told him I was going back to the hotel. “You need me to bring you anything tomorrow?”
“Don’t have any of my legs, so yeah, bring my walking leg and don’t forget my shaving kit. I need to shave and put on cologne and a fresh shirt, one of the nicer ones in my bag, okay?”
“Cologne?”
“Just shut up and get out of here, Priest. I need my beauty sleep.”
I walked out of the hospital with a smile on my face. Butch had one heck of a crush on Dr. Bryant.
Holly
“Hey, Holly,” Jax said when I picked up the phone. His voice was low and guarded. I sat straight up against the hard back of the kitchen chair. The night before I’d had fitful dreams of him wiping out on monstrous waves, his limbs torn from his body as massive whitewater imploded. “Jax! How were the waves?”
“They were fun.” He cleared his throat. “I don’t want you to worry or anything … but Butch is in the hospital.”
My armpits felt itchy. “What happened?”
“We were surfing, and everything was good, and then he caught a wave and dropped in too deep. The whitewater slammed him down.” Jax hesitated. “He wasn’t wearing his flotation vest, and got held down too long.”
I stood up so fast that my head felt dizzy. My hand flew to my forehead. “Oh, my God! Is he alive?”
“Yes, he’s alive. He’s fine. Just dislocated his shoulder. They’re keeping him in the hospital to monitor for secondary drowning.”
“What the hell is secondary drowning?”
“Sometimes, when a person gets water in their lungs, they can drown even after they’re out of the water. But, don’t worry.” Jax ch
uckled. “The guy’s strong from all his breath training. He’ll be fine.”
“But he could have died!” My body broke out into a cold sweat, I could barely get the words out. “This big wave thing, I know you love it, but Jax, come home.” All I wanted was to touch him again, to feel the warmth of him, to assure myself that he was solid and alive.
“I will, sweetheart,” he said. Then his voice took on another tone. I couldn’t tell if it was the shock of what had happened to Butch or something else. “But tomorrow I’ve got to stop by and see an old family friend in Santa Cruz. Haven’t seen her in a while and she’s right here so—”
“Family friend?”
“Yeah, an old friend of my mom’s from San Diego.”
“Was this something you planned before you left?”
“No, she just called yesterday.”
I quickly walked outside to get some fresh air, the puppies trailing at my heels. “Who’s this old friend?” I didn’t like the tone in my voice. I sounded like a jealous girlfriend.
Jax cleared his throat. “She’s just someone I knew back when I was a teenager. She was really good friends with my mom, and she was there when my parents died, and she was friends with Tyler, and she … she called out of the blue, and it turns out she lives real close to where I am right now, and believe me, last thing on my mind is visiting old friends, but I figured why not and—”
Why was he talking so fast? “Jax? Will you be coming home with Butch? Like when he’s released from the hospital?”
He exhaled audibly. “Yeah, probably.”
Probably? My intuition told me something was wrong. Why wouldn’t he come home with Butch? Jax did not sound well. I’m sure he was upset about Butch, but why was he telling me about this family friend? I had to somehow lighten the conversation. I looked out over the horizon, the clouds turning pink as sunset approached. “So, what are you wearing?”
He let out a low laugh. “Isn’t that supposed to be my line? I don’t know if you’d really like what I’m wearing, seeing as I just hung my smelly wetsuit up to dry. Then again, maybe you would like it.” His tone became lighter. “A pair of boxers.” The thought of Jax’s fit body in nothing but a pair of underwear sent a shiver up my spine, but something in his tone told me he wasn’t into sexy talk.
“Where are you staying?” I asked.
“The Oceano in Half Moon Bay. I’ll be here at least until Butch is released. Should just be a few days.”
I hoped Jax would invite me to Half Moon Bay. “I’ll bet that hotel has a comfy bed. Perfect for the way you like to ravish me.”
“That it does, my pretty lady. Wishing you were here.”
I bounced up on my toes. “I could be. I could get on the next flight and be there tonight. No later than morning.”
He chuckled. “I miss you too. I’ll be home before you know it.”
I didn’t want to hang up the phone, but Jax said, “So, I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” My chin fell to my chest. “Okay. Call me when you’re on the way home. And say hi to Butch. My gosh, that poor guy.”
He said he would, and then we mumbled a few awkward good nights.
I stood in my backyard, my phone heavy in my hand. Butch could’ve been killed. I sat down on my lounge chair, opened my browser, and typed in Butch’s name. I found an article about the accident. Jax hadn’t told me Butch was airlifted to the hospital. The poor guy probably didn’t want to worry me. I noticed I gripped the phone hard and I forced myself to relax.
I slowly walked back into my house, stopped at the fridge to get iced tea, and then sat at my kitchen table. Opening my laptop, the screen filled with the last site I’d visited—Facebook and the photo of that Olivia person staring at me. I’d first seen her at the Ritz-Carlton. She’d been talking about some crazy sex she and her friends had been having with the same guy and then, eerily, she sent Jax a text when he was at my place.
I knew it was wrong of me to spy. I told myself that it was similar to the research I performed when tackling a big account. I suppose I could’ve asked Jax straight out how he knew her, but was afraid of the answer.
I’d become obsessed with finding out how Jax knew this woman, but there wasn’t much information. First, I’d gone to Jax’s friends list, typed in Olivia, and sure enough, there was a photo of the dark-haired lady I was certain was the same woman I’d seen in the restroom of the Ritz-Carlton. Unfortunately, her profile had privacy settings in place, so all I was able to spy were three profile pictures of her in various poses, her long black hair shining. Olivia was looking over her shoulder in one, looked pensive as she stared into the camera in another, and sat at a desk, her fingers poised over the keyboard of her laptop as someone snapped the photo in the last one. I must’ve looked at those three photos for a full hour, analyzing the porcelain skin, the wide eyes, the way a tiny bit of tattoo writing peeked out from underneath her blouse, trying to figure out who she was.
Olivia Cartwright.
How did Jax know her? And why did she have his private number?
Jax
I visited Butch in the hospital the next morning to drop off his leg, shaving kit, clean shirt, and jeans. I arrived just as Dr. Bryant was completing her examination. She whirled around when she saw me. “Good morning!” she said brightly, clutching her stethoscope.
Butch looked like he was under hypnosis again. It was like I wasn’t even there. His eyes followed her every movement until finally she left the room. Butch stared at the doorway.
I sat down. “What’s for breakfast around here?”
Butch picked up the phone. “This place is like a five star resort.” He pressed a button that connected him to whoever delivered the food, and sweet-talked them into an extra meal and within minutes, the orderly delivered breakfast for both of us.
“Is this all your insurance covers?” I plunged my spoon into the nonfat-milk covered Rice Krispies.
Butch said, “Let’s see if we can take out a few of those floating Rice Krispies with a slice of melon.” He plunged a melon slice into his bowl. “Damn things always come up floating.” We looked at each other and grinned.
We whiled the day away telling stories of surf trips and watching really bad TV.
I couldn’t stop thinking about my meeting with Rosalyn that afternoon. What did she want?
Every time Dr. Bryant entered the room, it was like I was invisible. The good doctor wanted Butch to stay one more night just to be on the safe side.
When Dr. Bryant sauntered out of the room, I told Butch, “Looks like you’re enjoying your stay.”
“The view’s not bad.”
Finally, it was time for me to go meet Rosalyn. I said my goodbyes and set out for the forty-three mile drive to Santa Cruz.
While I drove, I put my protective shield firmly into place. I was more than a bit nervous about seeing Rosalyn after all this time. When preparing for a big wave surfing event, staying calm and relaxed was the key to a successful session. I took several of my deep, calming, big wave breaths. But would I be able to maintain my cool around Rosalyn?
I made the turn into Santa Cruz and parked my truck at Pleasure Point under the shade of a pine tree. I sat there for a few minutes, taking more deep breaths. It was a perfect California day, the waves were still big, and the surfers jockeyed for position in the lineup.
And then, for the first time in over thirteen years, I laid eyes on Rosalyn. She sat on a bench, gazing at the ocean. There was no mistaking the way she held herself, like a queen with her subjects bowing down at her feet, subjects who would do anything she asked of them. Maybe not this time, Rosalyn.
Closing my eyes, I took one more deep breath while wiping sweaty palms on my jeans. Then, I got out of my truck and walked toward the bench. “Hey,” I said, unsure of how to start up a conversation after thirteen years.
She seemed aware of me at the last second. Our eyes met, and she gave a wan smile. “Jax.” My body tensed when she stood up to give me a hug. She still smelled like sandalwoo
d. I pulled away and crossed my arms, eying her warily. Standing back, she said, “Let me look at you. You’re all grown up.” She smiled a nervous smile and patted the bench.
We sat, and I perched on the edge of the hard bench, as far away from Rosalyn as possible. What was I supposed to say? I decided small talk was the best approach. “So, have you been watching Game of Thrones?”
She cocked her head. “Isn’t that show super violent?”
I bounced my knee. “Yeah, but it’s kind of addicting.”
“I prefer Animal Planet myself.”
We stared at each other for long seconds, a rolling feeling gripping my stomach. “You’re right. They’ve got lots of gory stuff on that show. Like people being decapitated and stuff.”
She smiled. “Animal planet has its share of animals in danger. But at least there’s cute lion cubs in Africa.”
What were we meeting about? My left eye twitched, and I hoped Rosalyn couldn’t tell how nervous I was. I tried not to make it obvious as I took in this woman I’d been in love with all those years ago. She was older, but still had beauty and grace. She’d lost some weight, making her look almost like a European supermodel. Her once long, wild hair now fell only to her shoulders. “What happened to your hair?” I asked.
One hand patted her short wavy hair. “I was the envy of everyone in the chemo clinic. You know how fast my hair’s always grown.”
Chemo?
My heart pounded so hard I thought my chest would explode. In that instant, I realized how unprepared I was to see Rosalyn again. It was as though one minute had passed mixed with a thousand years. She was a soul mate and a stranger.
“Chemo?”
“It’s a really long story.” She studied the ocean, taking deep breaths, her hands clenched. “Yep. Breast cancer. Felt a lump a few years back, and guess what?” she said with a small laugh. “All that health food and meditating I did couldn’t stop the cancer cells from growing.”
“But you’re okay now, right?”
“Well … kind of. But there’s something else I need to talk to you about.”
Cancer? My God. I wanted to ask her everything. I wanted to know exactly what happened from the time she left Point Loma until the time she landed in Santa Cruz, what she did for work, who her friends were, if she had married, if she dated, if she was happy…
Pleasure Point: The Complete Series Page 42
