Jax didn’t win the money. But I won. Being reunited with Jax truly was the best prize. I planned on enjoying every second we had together.
Jax
Five months after the XXL Big Wave Awards, I accompanied Rosalyn to the follow up appointment with her oncologist.
Rosalyn’s hand was ice-cold and sweaty as we held hands and sat in plush leather chairs facing the desk of Dr. Tracey Emerson. I glanced at Rosalyn whose hair had grown to its former length, the wild curls cascading over her shoulders and back. She tapped her foot, eying the exit, her body rigid as though she were ready to bolt.
My heart skipped beats as I leaned in to kiss her cheek. “It’s okay, honey. I’m here.” She smiled nervously as Dr. Emerson entered the room.
“Good morning!” It was never good when a doctor acted overly cheery. “What can I get you to drink? We have bottled water and even some of that fresh juice which I know you like, Rosalyn.”
“Nothing, thanks,” Rosalyn said, looking at the floor.
“Well,” Dr. Emerson said brightly, “Who’s your friend?”
Rosalyn’s voice shook. “Oh, sorry, where are my manners? Dr. Emerson, this is Jax Priest.”
I stood up and leaned over the desk to shake hands with the good doctor. “Pleasure.”
“Pleasure’s all mine,” she said.
Rosalyn and I sat in the over air conditioned office, which may as well have been a prison warden’s chambers, staring at the doctor. I was having trouble swallowing.
Dr. Emerson sat up straight at her cherry-wood desk, the wall behind her plastered with diplomas. She opened the top drawer of her desk and extracted a folder. Toying with her stethoscope, she cleared her throat. One well-manicured nail slid down the lab form with scads of numbers that would’ve been gibberish if she’d showed them to me.
“I don’t know about this,” she said. “Very odd.”
Rosalyn’s hand was a vise grip, her nails digging into me as tears formed in her eyes. She crossed and uncrossed her legs.
Dr. Emerson closed the folder, took a deep breath then a sip of her bottled water, and said, “Sometimes medicine is not a science. That’s why we call it the art of medicine. Rosalyn, I know you’ve been pursuing alternative treatments, which I’m still not sure about. The AMA hasn’t approved those therapies, which is why they’re not allowed in the United States.”
Rosalyn gently removed her hand from mine, and hands in her lap, gazed at the floor. I detected a nervous twitch of one eye.
“But maybe I need to take a closer look at what they’re doing at Trinity because Rosalyn, you are in remission.”
“What?” Rosalyn’s hands flew up to her mouth, and a sob escaped her throat. Then she turned to me and clutched both my hands like I was her lifeline. “Oh, my God.”
“I have to warn you though, don’t get too confident because with cancer, we’re still learning. I’m going to have you tested every three months until I tell you otherwise.”
Rosalyn said, “Are you sure I’m okay?”
“Rosalyn,” Dr. Emerson said, “You’re in complete remission.” She scooted closer to the desk, her elbows resting on the surface. “What that means is that our tests and scans show that all signs of your cancer are absent. There’s no way for us to know that all of the cancer cells in your body are gone, which is why we never use the word cured. But for now …” She smiled broadly. “You’re in complete remission.”
All the tension drained from my body, and I moved my chair closer to Rosalyn’s putting my arms around her shoulders. I barely trusted myself to speak because my throat was dry, my chest that had been tight, just starting to relax. “Oh, baby, it’s okay. You’re in remission. You, me, and Eugene …”
Dr. Emerson said, “That’s right. You and your family can relax. For now. But like I said, you need to be retested every three months. You understand?”
Rosalyn nodded, her face had transformed from a scrunched up mess of worry to one of relief. She sank back into her chair, and tears streamed down her face. “Thank you. Thank you, Doctor. I don’t know what to say.”
Dr. Emerson smiled. “Don’t say anything. I think you and your friend are due a celebration.”
When we walked out of the doctor’s office into the warm California sunshine, I picked Rosalyn up and spun her around. “You did it babe! You … me … we beat this thing.”
Tears streamed down Rosalyn’s face, and her body shook. I leaned in for a passionate kiss, my hands pulling her head in to mine. She smelled heavenly, like sandalwood and the ocean, her mouth warm. We pulled away. “Let me look at you.” Her skin was flushed, and her large brown eyes contained a sparkle I hadn’t seen since before she left Point Loma. A giddiness spread through me. Being with Rosalyn was better than dropping in on the biggest, best, most perfectly shaped wave on a glassy day at Mavericks. “God, you’re beautiful.” Tears threatened to spill over. “Honey, we’re together. And you’re in remission!”
She smiled her spectacular smile that I’d fallen in love with. “What are we waiting for?” she said. “Let’s blow this popsicle stand.” We ran hand in hand to my truck.
“I have an idea,” I told Rosalyn with a grin as I put the truck in gear. “Let’s head down to the beach.”
We drove to one of the secluded spots that I loved in Santa Cruz, a bluff overlooking the ocean.
We jumped out of the truck and stood on the sheer cliff, the raging sea pounding the shore below. I turned to Rosalyn and held her in my arms.
“I feel so safe with you,” she said, looking up at me, her eyes shining. “And you know what else I feel?”
I stroked her cheek. “What, baby?”
“I feel like making out with a hunky surfer. You know any?” She grinned.
“I think I might.” I smiled and held her hand, leading her to the truck.
We slid inside, my body on high alert at the prospect of making out with Rosalyn as if we were a couple of teenagers.
She placed one warm hand on my crotch and said, “How high do you think we are?”
“I don’t know, maybe—”
“A mile? Want to join the mile high club?” I didn’t know if we were even close to that height, and I didn’t care. Without warning, she removed her panties, unzipped my jeans, lifted her skirt, and straddled me right there with the steering wheel pressing into her back.
I gazed at this woman I loved so much, unable to believe my luck. Her eyes glazed over with desire, her body so hot, it felt feverish. I had never felt so complete. I lifted up her blouse and kissed her breasts then kissed her neck and lost myself in the most exquisite kiss while I slid into her, and we made glorious love on that perfect Santa Cruz day, our moans of ecstasy drowning out the roar of the massive waves below.
Eugene
It had been over six months since I found out Jax was my dad. When he moved in for good, he brought a Siamese fighting fish named Blue-ee, Tyler’s Fender Stratocaster, and Tyler’s old longboard. The guitar and surfboard he gave to me; the fish, he took care of and tried to keep Leo from eating.
It was okay having a dad. Jax was chill. He treated me like a real person, and he was in love with my mom. But it still embarrassed me to watch them kiss and hold hands.
We were on the beach, and Jax yelled, “Guys! Stop throwing sand at each other.” Jax had been giving Nelson and me surfing lessons for a few months, and we were getting good. There’s nothing like dropping into a gnarly wave, making the bottom turn, and then carving those sweet S turns up and down the face. Freakin’ awesome! My mom had warned me not to get any bright ideas about surfing big waves. But Nelson didn’t have to make those promises, and in between practicing with our band, Nelson begged Jax to take him out in bigger waves.
“Help me finish this,” Jax said. “Your mom’s going to be here any second.”
“You are such a pansy,” Nelson said, throwing sand at Jax.
“Don’t make me run after you and pound sand into your mouth,” Jax warned Nelson while t
earing off after my best friend who flew down the beach. He tackled Nelson and put him in a headlock then dragged him back to where we’d been working on our project.
Nelson and I were helping Jax make this huge goofy heart in the sand. The outline in the sand was surrounded by rocks and shells and sticks and junk. In the middle, he’d taken a stick and written, “Jax loves Rosalyn.” So totally gross.
And then my mom came down the steps to the beach, waving to us with a huge smile on her face.
“What’s this?” When she saw the heart, she smiled so big I thought her face was going to break. “Is this what you guys do when you’re supposed to be catching waves?”
Jax walked to Mom and held her hand. “We’ve got a little present for you. Come on over.”
“What’s this all about?” she said.
“Boys, we’re ready for the unveiling,” Jax said.
Nelson and I moved to the area above the heart where we’d hidden her present underneath a beach towel.
Mom said, “What’ve you guys been doing?”
Jax smiled that mushy smile at my mom, the smile he always had when he saw her and couldn’t take his eyes off her, as if he’d never even seen another girl. Ever.
Nelson said, “Get ready. One … two … three.” And the two of us slowly removed the towel.
My mom’s eyes were so wide I thought they were gonna bug right out of her head, and then I didn’t know if this was such a good idea because I didn’t like seeing my mom cry, and it looked like she might. Her hands flew up to her mouth.
“Oh my God, it’s the painting! The one we stole out of that house. Where did you get it?” She ran over to the painting and kneeled in the sand, her hand running over the canvas.
“I got it off your apartment wall. Where else? You like it?”
“Oh honey, I love it.”
“Now stand up because I have something to say.”
My mom stood up and brushed off her skirt. Jax got down on one knee, held both my mom’s hands, and looked up in her eyes. “Rosalyn, we’ve known each other a lot of years. You know how much I love you.” He had that lovey-dovey look in his eyes, and my mom’s lip quivered. “Rosalyn, love of my life … will you come surfing with us?”
She laughed then swatted him, and when he got up on his feet, she kissed him so long that I thought they were gonna get stuck that way.
When they pulled away from each other, she put her hands on her hips and said, “Well, I don’t know. I’m going to have to ask Eugene.”
I said, “Well, maybe. But take her in the baby waves to start, okay? That’s my mom.”
Six Months Later
Half Moon Bay, California
Jax
Standing on the beach at Mavericks, my eyes scanned the horizon for waves. Being a surfer, I couldn’t keep myself from checking out the surf. But it was a perfect day for the wedding, sunny, the air still.
Butch’s hands trembled as he attempted to affix the white rose boutonnière to my lapel. “Will you hold still? I’m going to stab you if you keep wiggling! Rosalyn, will you help us?” He held the rose at his side looking at the ocean, and then turned back to me. “And quit checking out the surf. Today’s a special day. Maybe you can surf tomorrow.”
Rosalyn took the boutonnière from Butch. “You are looking pretty handsome today, Mr. Priest.”
“There’s that smile I fell in love with,” I said, “But why are you crying?” I wiped a small tear from her cheek. “Come on, this is a happy day. Maybe I’ll make you cry later. Cry for more.”
Rosalyn gave me a playful shove. “Only if you get lucky.”
It seemed the entire surfing community had come to Half Moon Bay for the wedding. Seeing the surfers who usually wore wetsuits or faded jeans dressed up, or at the very least, clean shaven, was unusual. I smiled thinking of how many times I’d sat in the lineup with these guys in their smelly wetsuits, sunscreen caked on their faces.
We’d planned a beach wedding, and instead of the usual archway with flowers, Butch and I had spiked two big wave guns in the sand. The girls had scattered flower petals at the foot of the boards, and more flowers were lined up on the sand, creating a pathway for the bride to walk.
Eugene, in his rented tuxedo and bare feet, ran up to me, sand kicking up behind him. He tugged on my sleeve. “You have the rings?” His face that reminded me so much of Tyler’s was a mask of anxiety. I pulled the rings out of my pocket and placed them in his sweaty palm.
Nelson swaggered to my side and slapped me five. Instead of a flower girl, the bride and groom decided to use two ring bearers so both boys could participate in the fun. Eugene handed Nelson one ring. “Don’t lose it!”
Rosalyn’s best friend, Carissa sauntered to where we stood. Her flaming red hair contrasted with the lime green dress she wore. She had been visiting with us for the past week and Nelson had one heck of a silly schoolboy crush on her. Nelson got down on one knee and presented the ring to Carissa. “Carissa, will you marry me?”
She threw her head back in laughter. “Don’t tempt me.”
I turned to Butch who stood at my elbow. “Don’t look so nervous.”
“You kidding me? I’m calm as a cucumber.” He scratched his head. “Hey Jax, why did the cucumber go out with the prune?”
I sighed theatrically. “I really can’t wait to hear. Why?”
“Because he couldn’t find a date!”
“Are you sure Summer’s really in love with you?” I said. “Or is it just that she can’t afford a ticket to the Improv?”
Butch’s eyes narrowed. “Are you trying to steal my spot as king of bad jokes? Nice try.” He hooked his arm through mine. “Come on, buddy, it’s time.”
My throat felt tight as I took my place next to Rosalyn. Butch, Eugene, and Nelson lined up next to the big wave guns, and one of the surfers started the music. Over the din of the waves crashing on the shore, “You Are So Beautiful” blasted out of the speakers.
And then there she was.
Summer wore an ivory, form-fitting dress that was so short it was criminal. Delicate white flowers and tiny pearls were woven into her dark hair, which was artistically piled on top of her head. When he saw her, Butch’s face broke into a grin so big, his white teeth blinded the crowd. After a slow march up the flower-fashioned aisle in the sand, Summer stood next to Butch. They held hands and gazed into each other’s eyes. Everyone fell silent.
Summer and Butch had written their own vows. I had never seen my good-natured friend so serious. He held on to Summer’s hands for dear life and cleared his throat. He addressed the crowd. “I wanted to start out thanking all you guys for coming out here. I know the waves aren’t that great, but the view’s awful nice.” He gazed meaningfully at Summer. “When I met Summer, the first thing I thought was, I’m going to marry her.” Over the din of the waves, Butch spoke into a microphone and told the crowd about the day his life almost ended. “When I wiped out on that wave, I really didn’t think I was going to live. It was weird because, while I was on the life flight helicopter, I had some kind of bizarre near-death vision. My body floated up until I stood in front of the pearly gates of heaven.” He wiped a tear from his eye. “They were magnificent. The massive gates were intricately carved out of pure gold. I looked up and saw a sign that said, ‘The Gates of Heaven,’ and for a second I got excited.” Butch regarded the audience. “But then, below that, I noticed a small cardboard sign, which read, ‘Please use other entrance.’” The crowd murmured laughter. “I guess it wasn’t my time.” He gazed into Summer’s eyes. “When I woke up in the hospital, I saw this angel standing over my bed and thought Jesus, I really didn’t make it. Who’s going to take over my reign of corny joke telling?” Summer concealed a grin. “But now,” Butch said, “I really am in heaven.”
Rosalyn squeezed my hand. I squeezed back. “Weddings make me cry,” she whispered, smiling and wiping away a tear.
Then Summer spoke. “When I met Butch, the first thing I thought was boy are
his jokes terrible.” Her smile was radiant. “Of all the patients I had that year, there was something about this one-legged surfer with the one-liners. I couldn’t wait to see him every day. I guess you could say he got a few extra examinations that his insurance didn’t authorize. And he kept me laughing.” Summer smiled, a smile meant only for Butch. “You crazy man with the corny jokes, I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life playing doctor with you.”
Levi, one of the big wave surfers who officiated for the occasion, said, “Ring bearers, do you have the rings?” Eugene turned to Nelson with a frantic look, and Nelson produced a ring from his pocket, handing it to Butch. Butch gazed at Summer. “I promise to love and care for you, and I will try in every way to be worthy of your love. I will be honest with you, kind, patient, and forgiving. I promise to try to be on time. But most of all, I promise to be a true and loyal friend to you. I love you.” Several women sighed when they saw the shimmery diamond ring Butch slid on Summer’s delicate finger.
Eugene handed Summer the other ring. Summer could hardly speak through her tears of joy. “I promise to be your lover, companion and friend, your partner in parenthood, your ally in conflict, your greatest fan, your comrade in adventure, your student and your teacher, and your accomplice in mischief. This is my sacred vow to you. Just don’t ask me to paddle into a big wave.” She smiled. “Butch, I love you.” She slid the ring on to his finger.
Pleasure Point: The Complete Series Page 62
