Cowabunga Christmas

by Anna Celeste Burke

  As our desserts arrived, I wondered what on earth would be added to our resort profile about this meal. Brien was the center of attention all evening as he turned our slow food event into a marathon. He even received a visit from the chef who must have come to see the eating machine for himself.

  My Pumpkin Crema Catalana, Spanish custard similar to crème bruleè, was heavenly. A seasonal variant on another recipe revealed to the resort kitchen from the cliff-top monks. The servers, that made frequent visits, kept up a running commentary on the food we ordered. They didn't always have such enthusiastic gourmands on their hands, or so they intimated.

  I watched Brien as he unselfconsciously downed a pecan tart—the Abbey’s version of pecan pie, after raving about the gingerbread men he had already devoured. “Almost as good as Bernadette’s Marrinitos,” was high praise indeed. Jessica’s wonder woman sidekick, Bernadette, was a phenomenal cook. She had prepared the scrumptious piggy-shaped Mexican gingerbread cookies for our Day of the Dead celebration in November. Brien was especially charmed by the Santa hats made of icing that his gingerbread men wore. The cookies intended to delight the children who visited the Abbey with their parents, were a big hit with Brien.

  In between the food and drink, and visits from the Abbey staff members, Brien told me all about the surfing at Corsario Cove. He was animated, although thankfully, we didn’t have another of those table-shaking incidents. Stoked, as he put it—excited and enthused, he embodied the Christmas spirit.

  After dinner, I had an epiphany. Brien was still buzzing about how fortunate he was to surf the cove before its ‘legend-worthy righteousness’ became better known. We had taken a moonlit stroll down to the beach, using the more direct route from the hotel to the cove area this time. The full moon bathed us in its silvery light. Our arms wrapped around each other, we gazed at the surf and the magic of the place stole over me. I had bought him a Christmas present, more than one, in fact. In that moment, I knew exactly what he was going to get tomorrow morning to make this a Christmas to remember!

  10 Cowabunga Time, Baby!

  I switched the alarm off quickly, slipped out of bed, and put in a call to room service from the phone in our sitting room. Dawn was just breaking and there was a nice swell rising in the cove. Off in the distance, I could see two figures, dressed head-to-toe in black, hanging onto their surfboards. The morning air was chilly but fresh; the offshore breeze carried the scent of the ocean with it. I heard a seabird’s call as the bells in the monastery tower struck seven.

  In minutes there was a knock at the door. The room service guy, who had to be a surfer, brought in a tray and set it on the side bar.

  “It looks good out there in the cove, doesn’t it?”

  “Excellent!” he said, gazing longingly at the horizon.

  I signed for our breakfast and added a big tip. I could almost see “big tipper” being entered into our profile. It was Christmas morning, for goodness’ sake, so what the heck? The big tip got me a big smile and a Merry Christmas as I closed the door.

  I carried the tray into the bedroom where Brien was still snoozing. I set it down, took off my robe and put on that little polka dot bikini I had mentioned to Brien. I added the Santa hat, and then stood at the foot of the bed.

  “Merry Christmas, Brien.” Brien did not budge. He does sleep soundly, so I tried it again, louder. “Merry Christmas, Dude!” Still nothing. “Ho, ho, ho, time to wake up, Surfer Boy!” Hmm, this called for more extreme measures. I wasn’t sure what the window of opportunity might be out there in the cove, but it wouldn’t be much of a Christmas present if he slept through it. I set the tray down.

  “Surf’s up!” I shouted, and sprang onto the bed next to him. He still did not move as I knelt beside him. I was trying to decide what else I could do when a big grin spread across his face. He reached out and grabbed me, pulling me down onto the bed.

  “Surf’s up, alright,” he said, smothering me in kisses. I tried to get my breath.

  “Not this surf—that surf,” I said, pointing toward the open veranda. “It’s my Christmas present, darling. One of them, anyway. Let’s hit the beach!” He stopped and blinked away the sleep that still held him. Brien looked at me, then out to the open veranda, and back at me.

  “For real?” he asked.

  “For real!”

  “Whoa, what time is it?” He peered at his watch. “You mean business, don’t you? You never get up this early!”

  “Not if I don’t have to. I already got us coffee and smoothies. I looked it up. You shouldn’t eat much before you hit the beach or the boards or the waves... you know what I mean.”

  “Wow, I’m stoked, Kim. You’re the most epic wife, ever! Are you sure?”

  “Absolutely! It’s cowabunga time, Dude!” I said, standing up in the bed and striking a mock surfer pose. I hoped surfers actually still said cowabunga, and it wasn’t just a word I picked up from the Mutant Ninja Turtles.

  Brien bounded from the bed, slid open the closet doors and pulled out his wet suit hanging in there. Then he pulled a beautifully-wrapped box from the shelf above his suit and tossed it onto the bed at my feet.

  “You’re going to need this present, now, Dudette.” A huge grin was on his face as he stepped into the legs of his wetsuit. I plunged to my knees and tore open the present. When I pulled the top off the box I could not believe my eyes. A black wetsuit like his, but with hot pink sections cut into it. Brien was serious about getting me out there on the water with him.

  “My very own wettie,” I cried. “You love me, you really do love me.” In my heart, I knew that to share his passion for surfing with me was a true act of intimacy. Now I was stoked! I didn’t even know I felt that way until I heard those words spilling from my lips.

  “Sure, I do. Put it on—it’s cowabunga time, Baby! This is our first ever cowabunga Christmas, together.” He put his arms into the sleeves of his wet suit and walked over to me with it still unzipped. Then, he bent down and kissed me. “Thank you, Kim.”

  We downed our coffee and smoothies in no time. It took me only a few minutes longer to wiggle into that wetsuit. I wasn’t as fast as Brien had been. I looked like the real deal—in the mirror, anyway, standing with my surfboard at my side. Brien packed a bag with bottled water, towels, sunglasses, and our reef booties. We slipped on our Rainbows and carried our boards to the elevator. I considered bringing the cell phone. Leave it alone, I thought. If Mitchum decided to call us on Christmas day he would just have to wait.

  By the time we got to the beach I was exhausted. Brien offered to carry my surfboard for me, but I was determined to do it myself. The board wasn’t all that heavy. It was bulky and awkward for a newbie like me. About halfway there Brien offered to carry me and the board. He could do it—the man can bench press way more than his own weight.

  I can be stubborn and I’m still not all that comfortable with the girly-girl turn my life had taken. It was taking a while to get used to being in love and going all mushy on a regular basis, as I had just done in the hotel room over that wettie. I declined Brien’s offer to help. Besides, what self-respecting surfer lets someone else carry her board? I suspected those hardcore Dudes and Dudettes from Sanctuary Grove were the ones already down in the cove at dawn. No way was I going to walk onto the beach empty-handed.

  When we arrived, Brien was fresh as a daisy. “Amped to the max,” as he put it. He kicked off his rainbows, slipped on his booties and headed for the water.

  “I’ll be right there,” I called after him, lying through my teeth. I let my board slide down onto the sand where Brien had dumped his Rainbows and that bag he had packed for us. I slumped down next to my board, trying to catch my breath.

  “You okay?” a voice asked, startling me—so much for catching my breath.

  “OMG, Willow—I am now that I know it’s you.” She was wearing a wettie, her hair was damp, but she had no board. “I’m so glad to see you. I take it you’ve already been out there.”

  When my
eyes followed where my arm pointed, I lost my breath again. The morning stole it from me—the girly-girl unleashed again. No, that’s not true. The sunrise tapped into my artistic side. The part of me that had still believed in the music my former employer produced, even after he turned out to be one of Satan’s minions. The morning was a work of art.

  The sun had not quite made it into the sky and appeared to sit on the water. It cast an explosion of golden light, threw out oranges, pinks and purples. Those colors cut across the sky in every direction. The waves picked up bits of color and light, tossing them around as they moved on shore.

  There in the middle of a fat, rolling wave was my Brien. A black silhouette against all that color, he moved with grace in perfect sync with the wave. When he sank into the water beside his board he saw me watching him and beamed. He turned and headed back out, paddling along on his board. It was only then I realized Willow had spoken to me.

  “What?” I asked, as I gazed up at her.

  “I’m so sorry I scared you. I didn’t mean to put you into a daze. Mele kalikimaka—Merry Christmas, Aloha style, Sistah.”

  “Merry Christmas, Willow. Don’t worry. You didn’t scare me much. I’m just dopey. I’m not used to being up this early.” I stood and set up two stubby folding chairs Brien had grabbed along the way, took one and invited Willow to take the other.

  “Too bad that bonehead Owen isn’t around. I can’t believe the guy is dead—and in that Santa suit. What a way to go.” Willow shook her head, like she was trying to shake off that image of Owen. I felt a twinge of guilt about our decision not to spend the day snooping into Owen’s demise. Willow watched as Brien sat on his board waiting for another wave. “He knows what he’s doing. That was a nice ride,” she said, as she settled into the chair beside me. “You look like you’re ready to rock.”

  “I’m going to give it a try. Brien’s been helping me build upper body strength, and we’ve determined I’m goofy-footed. I’ve gone out a couple times to get the feel of the board and practiced paddling on it—which is where I learned I needed biceps. It ain’t going to be pretty, but I’m going to try to get up on my feet and avoid eating too much sand.” Willow laughed.

  “We all eat our share of sand, Kim. Even after you’ve been surfing for a while a big, churning wave will grind your face in it and you’ll come up spitting. You just learn to take it in stride. That’s one thing Owen was good at. He’d get ground into the bottom, come up smiling, and do it all over again. What a Barney.”

  “I’ll redefine Barney for you today. Don’t expect me to smile about eating sand, though. I’m more a curse the deep kind of Barney, I’m afraid. Brien’s convinced I can learn. He says I’ve got good balance and quick reflexes. Here I am at the crack of dawn on Christmas day ready to make a fool out of myself. The things you’ll do for love... ” I stopped myself, thinking about how that might sound to a woman who recently learned a guy she once had feelings for had been killed. Because she broke up with him didn’t mean she had written him off completely. That was clear from the way she spoke about him the day before.

  “Tell me about it,” Willow said. “If Owen had gotten his head on straight, and asked me to go with him, I would have left all this behind. I had never seriously considered living in an apartment away from the beach, making the 9-to-5 scene day in and day out, until Owen showed up.”

  “You never know who’s going to awaken your inner Juliet, do you?” As I spoke, I caught sight of Brien up on his feet again. My Romeo was in his element.

  “Nope,” Willow sighed. “Of course all that went up in smoke when Owen started breaking bad on me. I still can’t believe what a scam artist Opie turned out to be. It’s like he had enrolled in the scheme a month club. You know what made it worse?”

  “No.” I wanted to ask what other schemes he had going. I’ve worked hard to develop a few social skills, like only speaking when it’s my turn. That also means listening when others take their turns. Besides, what business was it of mine? Brien and I had decided to let Mitchum do the detecting. He could quiz her about Opie’s many schemes.

  “He tried to make me believe he was doing it for me—for us! One big score and we were going to be on easy street. What a poser.” Willow blinked back tears. In a flash she was on her feet. “Come on, I need to get back in the water. You come with me. Put those booties on—it’s cold out there!” She ran to retrieve her board that was maybe fifty yards away—close to the clump of trees that marked the entrance to the Sanctuary Grove shanty town. How could I refuse?

  I pulled on the booties. Then, I picked up my board and held it up over my head like Willow was doing. The board wobbled, pulling me backwards and off balance. I stabilized the board, collected myself, and took off. I had almost caught up when Willow plunged into the water. I did as she did—dropped my board onto the surface of the water, hopped on it with my belly to the board.

  “Holy Moly, cold is right,” I said through gritted teeth. I was awake now! I let Willow set a course as we paddled through the waves and out to the line where Brien and several other surfers were bobbing up and down.

  She slid in beside them and sat up on her board. I did the same—paddled over in between Brien and Willow and pushed myself up into a sitting position. What Willow had done in one easy motion took more work for me. I felt like I had extra elbows or something and scooched on my behind to get in position, after sitting up and straddling the board. My efforts got me a delicious kiss from Brien. Yes!

  “Dudes, this is Kim, the most excellent woman in my life,” he said. By that he better mean the ‘only’ woman in his life, excellent or not. I said nothing. Social skills, right? The ‘dudes’ included the irksome Mick who barely acknowledged me. I’m not sure how much that had to do with dismissiveness because of my rank amateur status, or to the fact that he was taking a sneaky, sidelong glance at Willow.

  There was a Benny, a TonyO, and a Snaggy in the group, too. Snaggy as in snaggletooth, I presumed, given the smile he flashed at me. There had to be a story to the TonyO name, too, but no one was telling at the moment. Benny must be short for Benjamin, so no big story there. Introductions over, the men sprang into action and paddled to catch a big rolling wave that was building. How had they seen it? Willow reached out and held my arm.

  “Next one will be sweeter,” she said. We sat there seconds longer. “When I say go get on your belly and paddle. Watch my rhythm and when I do the pop up you’ve been practicing in your room, go for it, okay?” I nodded my head, praying I wouldn’t kill her or me. I didn’t have long to worry about it.

  “On my mark, get ready, set, go!” Willow took off and I got onto my belly—expelling a big gasp of air as I flopped. I did my best to keep up and watch her through splashes of water from my frenzied paddling.

  It all happened so fast. She was up, her tiny form mastering the board under her. I sprang to my feet as Willow had done, took my stance, wobbled, and boom! I was unceremoniously plunged into the water. I did a couple good rotations under water before I righted myself and came up blowing water from more than one orifice. I wore a face-splitting grin, though. No sand in my teeth and I had been up on my board for like a whole five seconds before the sea claimed me.

  “Woohoo! That was a good try, Babe. You almost did it!” Brien came hurtling toward me, his face only a few inches from mine.

  “What do you mean almost? I stood up on my board. Now all I’ve got to do is figure out how to stay there.” He swooped in, put an arm around me and pulled me up out of the water. He crushed my lips with a kiss, before rolling me onto my board. I hung there for a second, dazed by the show of strength and that kiss.

  “There’s plenty more where that came from. Want to try it again?” Did I ever. He headed back to the line. I was right behind him. Willow and the others were soon beside us. Brien had me go over our practice session in my mind, visualizing where my feet should be when I was up on them. He reminded me how to shift my weight and catch my balance as I had done when he wig
gled and rolled the board for me. I tried to call every detail to mind.

  “Follow me on this one, okay?” Brien took off a moment later. I paddled like a maniac and when he got up, I got up. This time I stayed up maybe a good fifteen seconds before I tumbled backward off the board. Spit, spit, cough, cough! I pulled myself up onto my board and looked for a route back to the line without getting into anyone’s way. I felt frustrated, but for a few fleeting moments I had experienced what it’s like to have the water carry me. Half a dozen tries later, I was pooped. I had managed to stretch my longest ride to thirty seconds or more. That still meant I got dumped long before I reached shore.

  In between my efforts to ride, I watched. I tried to understand what Willow and the others saw in the swells that moved past us in sets. How did they know that a wave was a good one? I watched as they moved and maneuvered on their boards. I was fixated, like a cat staring as a ball of twine unraveled, dangling threads for me to follow. I was so intent—mesmerized by Brien’s latest ride, that Willow caught me by surprise for a second time.

  “Good effort this morning, Kim,” she said. I startled. She jumped, too. Then we both had a good laugh.

  “Sorry I made you jump. I can’t believe I did it again. I’m heading in for a bathroom break. You want to come with me?”

  “No, I’m studying,” I winked at her as I fixed my eyes on the big smile Brien wore as he paddled my way.

  “Can I bring you water or a juice box?”

  “Wow, juice would be great. We packed water, but a jolt of sugar would be perfect.”

  “Okay, I’ll bring juice for the guys too. I’ll only be gone a few minutes.” The tiny woman, with the power to move water and her board like it was nothing, took off. When Brien joined me, I told him where she had gone and what she was doing.

  “That’s awesome, Kim. I could use some sugar, too. You’ve been a good sport. Any time you want we can head on in and hit the Christmas brunch buffet.”