(Complete Rock Stars, Surf and Second Chances #1-5)

by Michelle Mankin

  “About you. How you’re doing for one thing. You seem sad, much worse than when you were stuck at Yale while Dominic was on the road.”

  “Are you surprised?” She turned her head, her lips flattened. The gaze that met mine was broken glass, jagged, full of razor edged shards. “Not much chance of him being shot or blown to pieces on stage, is there?” The plastic of her empty water bottle crackled as she crushed it in her hands.

  “No,” I agreed. Reaching over, I gently loosened her grip, took one of her hands in my own and squeezed it. What else could I do or say to show her that she wasn’t alone except… “I worry about him, too.”

  She gave my admission a curt nod and turned back to her ocean. Finished with our waters and without anything more to say, we remained, her hand in mine, and strangely it wasn’t awkward. Patch was the bond between us, tying us together and yet also keeping us safely apart.

  “The long periods of separation between leaves are just awful,” she finally whispered. Sliding her hand free, she began to pick at the label on the bottle. “The uncertainty. The fear. It’s torture. But I can’t tell him. I don’t want to be a burden to him.”

  Fuck.

  “There’s no way he ever thinks of you like that. And I didn’t know…I didn’t stop to think about how rough things were for you. I’m sorry I didn’t come to pay you a visit sooner.” Patch had asked me to look after her, but I’d done a piss poor job. I’d left her alone far too long. I hadn’t really believed that she would need me. But she did. She needed someone reliable. I desperately wanted to be that and more for her.

  “It’s ok,” she said. “I’m sure all the soldier’s wives feel the same way I do. Only…”

  “Only you didn’t sign up for this, did you?” I guessed.

  She shook her head, and I could sense her closing off again.

  “Hey.” I scooted closer, threw my arm around her shoulders and pulled her into my side, not allowing myself to dwell on how good she felt there. “It’s alright. One day at a time, right? Patch is smart. The Marines might run to the sound of the guns, but that’s because they’re ready to kick some ass. He’s a badass, Karen. There’s no chance he’s not coming home to you.” I felt some of the stiffness in her frame loosening.

  “I hope you’re right,” she whispered.

  “I know I am,” I assured her.

  Chapter Nineteen

  * * *

  Karen

  “Oh, Ramon,” I gasped, my hand clasped to my chest where my heart hammered. “I didn’t see you there. Is everything ok?” The ever-present paranoia had me quickly calculating his expression rather than rechecking to make sure that I had locked the surf shop door. He didn’t appear to be upset, but he didn’t usually come to the shop either, and there was something in his gaze that seemed different as he regarded me. Since we had been spending so much time together in the mornings, I was starting to notice subtle things about him. Like how he often ran a hand through his hair when he doubted himself or how his accent became more pronounced when his emotions ran high.

  “Everything’s fine.” He raked a handful of jet black curls off his brow. “Since you’re through with work, I just wondered if you might want to come over to my pop’s place for dinner tonight.”

  “I’d love to.” Everyone in OB knew about his dad’s culinary skills. My brows pulled together. I wasn’t dressed for the occasion. My customary halter top and cutoffs over a swimsuit were acceptable attire for the surf shop, but I didn’t think they quite cut it for a dinner engagement. “Do I have time to shower and change?”

  “I don’t think so. He’s making mole. It’s a time sensitive dish.” His eyes on mine, he reached out and tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear. “Besides, you look great just the way you are.”

  “Thanks.” My stomach fluttered from his touch and his praise. “Can I borrow your cell to call my parents to let them know where I’ll be? Just in case…well…so anyone can reach me…if they needed to.”

  “You don’t have a cell?”

  “Uh-uh.” I made a face. “Too expensive.”

  “Here.” He passed me his phone. I spoke briefly with my mom before handing the cell back to him.

  “You never let go worrying about him, do you?”

  “No,” I admitted softly. It was pointless to pretend that I was strong, and a relief to share my true feelings with someone.

  “That worry is wearing you down, surfer girl.” His dark chocolate eyes glittered intently. He didn’t seem to miss much when it came to me. “We’re going to have to come up with a strategy to build you back up.”

  “I already have a strategy,” I said with as must bravado as I could muster, though admittedly I liked the ‘we’ part of his plan. Spending time with him even if we just sat on the wall and watched the other surfers made me feel less isolated. “I work. I surf. I stay busy.”

  “That’s great, but you’ve gotta have some variety. You can’t surf 24-7. You need to do other things. Spend time with friends. Have some fun.”

  “It doesn’t seem right to have fun with Dominic being where he is.”

  “Nonsense. His contract is an eight-year commitment, right?”

  I nodded. “With the option at the halfway point to stay overseas for more pay or come home and make less.”

  “That’s a long time to deprive yourself. Don’t you think he’s finding ways to pass the time where he is?”

  “Sure. I guess. He plays video games. Watches movies. And he has his bass. He started a band with some of the other musicians in his unit.” He had missed an allotted phone time with me just this past week because of a performance.

  “I bet those things help his morale a ton. So do you concede my point?”

  “Yeah, sure,” I grumbled. “Is that why you asked me to dinner?”

  “That’s part of it. My dad’s anxious to meet you. I think you’ll like him. And my brother Gonzolo, who you remember from high school. But my sister-in-law I’ll have to apologize for in advance. She’s a first-class bitch.”

  • • •

  Ramon

  My family took to Karen like I had known they would. She was flattered that my dad had offered a dish that featured chocolate knowing it was her favorite. He preened at her praise, and she peppered him with questions about how he had prepared the mole. Gonzolo actively recounted Karen’s many accolades during high school from the beauty queen titles to her role on the student council. She downplayed it all, but I could tell she was enjoying herself. The only downside to the evening was my sister-in-law. Maria didn’t care for all the attention Karen was receiving, and she was taking every opportunity to be shitty to her.

  “It’s probably pretty easy to be the popular girl when you’re white and have tons of money.”

  “Cállate, Maria,” Gonzolo hissed, giving her a not so subtle glare.

  “It’s ok.” Karen’s words were tight. “Yes, I’m white, but that’s only the color of my skin. It doesn’t define who I am inside. You’re wrong about the money. We did have to worry about finances most of my life. Things are certainly better now for my parents since my dad sold the grocery store to the big chain. But that’s his money. I work. My husband’s a mechanic in the Marines. We’re saving to have a family and a house of our own one day. I’m sure my hopes and dreams aren’t really much different than your own.”

  “All I’m saying chica is…”

  “I think you’ve said enough already.” Gonzolo wadded up napkin and tossed it onto his plate. “I’ll help my dad wash the dishes and then we’re leaving.” I wasn’t surprised that my brother offered to help while Maria sat on her ass and complained. The only time he had any peace was when he was at the fire station while she was somewhere else spending his money or flirting with other guys. Why he stayed with that puta was beyond me.

  “No need, son. I cleaned up as I cooked. Sit back down, have a little chocolate flan before you go.”

  Gonzolo nodded and stayed for dessert, but he remained tense,
even after a shot of Kahlua, and it wasn’t long before they excused themselves.

  “You weren’t kidding about her.” Karen’s expression revealed her understandable dislike for Maria.

  “Yeah, she doesn’t have much to recommend her. She and my mother are two of a kind.”

  “Ramon, don’t disrespect your mother.”

  “Sorry, Pop.”

  He nodded curtly and turned to focus on Karen from his position at the head of the small dining table. He put his hand over hers. “I hope you aren’t as cynical about love as my younger son is.”

  “No.” She shook her head. “But then my parents have been happily married for a long…” She trailed off giving me an apologetic look. I had told her a little about my parents on and off again relationship.

  “I imagine Ramon has shared some things about my wife and me?”

  “She’s not your wife anymore,” I rebuked.

  “She is in the eyes of the church.”

  I sighed.

  “She was my high school sweetheart. My first and only love.” His eyes softened with undeserved loyalty that I would never understand. “Is that how it is with you and Dominic?”

  Karen nodded.

  “He’s a good boy. He and Ramon have been friends since the day they first met. He was always tinkering with their bicycles trying to make them faster.”

  “Was he successful?” Karen’s eyes sparkled at the mention of her husband.

  “Oh, yeah,” I answered. “We had the most badass rides on the playground. We practically broke the sound barrier.”

  Karen sent a beautiful smile my way. She had done a lot of smiling tonight. But I knew it was only a temporary guise. The stoic mask would return the moment she paused from her daily schedule long enough to take a breath. Yet, it was better than nothing. I determined right then to bring her back to visit my pop as often as possible. Even if we had to deal with Maria it would be worth it to see Karen so at ease.

  “Did you know that Dominic has a terrible sweet tooth?” my Pop asked her. “His biggest weakness is pan dulce.”

  She shook her head, then folded her hands and rested her chin on them, relaxing as my dad continued sharing more information about her husband that she apparently didn’t know. Silly childhood stuff. The shaving cream incident. The trouble we had courted for the hell of it as we had gotten older. When he started to tell her how I had talked Patch into signing up for music lessons together after his mom had gotten sick, the hour was late. But an idea had formed in my head. I broached it with her as I walked her home.

  “You had a good time tonight.”

  “The best. Your dad is awesome. Thank you for inviting me.”

  “It was Pop’s idea, but you’re welcome.” I glanced at her as she strolled beside me. The hedges along the sidewalk cast shadows on her face that I was afraid might be the gloom that normally cloaked her returning. I forged ahead with the idea that I had formulated earlier. “You’re not so…tense when you’re focused on something that makes you happy.”

  “I guess.” Her brows scrunched together. I placed my hand on the small of her back as we stepped off the curb and crossed the street together.

  “You might try journaling,” I said as offhandedly as I could muster as we passed under a street lamp. “Or something like that to turn around your thoughts when they start to go dark. You probably noticed my dad using that technique back there at his apartment when I got negative about my mom.”

  “Sure, but I don’t really see how…”

  “What is it about Patch that made you fall for him?” I interrupted, attempting to show her what I meant.

  “It’s more what he sees in me.” Her voice turned wistful. The fine lines between her brows smoothed.

  “That’s it. The way you’re feeling right now. It’s good, right? I can see it in your face. I can hear it in your voice.” She cocked her head to the side starting to get me. I pressed her some more. “Explain about Patch. Flesh it out.”

  “I love how he has this way of focusing on me like there’s no one else around worthy of his time.”

  I nodded encouragingly for her to continue, though I believed any man would be interested in unraveling her secrets.

  “It’s like he never gets tired of my company. He’s always asking questions. Why I’m the way I am. Why I do things a certain way.” She sighed.

  “He’s very analytical…about everything. My dad wasn’t kidding about the bikes. His dad has probably told you plenty of stories, too. Every piece of mechanical equipment he could get his hands on, he would take apart and put it back together again. Nine times out of ten it operated more efficiently afterward.”

  “I think the reason he asks so many questions is kind of like that. Because he wants to know what to do, what to say to help me be better. To fix me in a way, I guess like he fixes everything else.”

  That was Patch for sure. He was always that way with me. He had been that way with the band. He had tried to fix everything before he had left. But people aren’t cold mechanical creatures. And I wondered deep down if Dominic really understood that a woman’s heart was more complicated than any machine.

  Chapter Twenty

  * * *

  Dominic,

  I was so excited to get your letter. I know you can’t write to me every day. I wasn’t trying to put pressure on you when we talked on the phone. I’m sorry if it seemed that way. I understand how busy you are and that you are restricted in what information you can share with me. I know that you aren’t being purposefully vague to shut me out or hurt my feelings. It’s just that sometimes it feels that way. I was so pleased to hear that you have close friends in your unit that you can trust. John and Nick sound like great guys. Ramon is being a great friend to me back here in OB. We talk about you a lot, but I confess that I still miss you terribly. I treasure every phone call and any correspondence that you have time to send me. I replay our conversations in my mind when I am alone in our room at night. I savor and reread each and every word you have written.

  I love you,

  Q2 otherwise known as the woman who is crazy about you.

  • • •

  Karen

  “Hey,” I said in greeting as I stepped onto the small apartment patio where Ramon sat with his acoustic guitar. My chest was clinched. The look on his face made me feel like maybe I was intruding. “Your dad told me you were back here,” I explained as Ramon continued to stare at me blankly. Lost in the music, his fingers absently strummed the strings. The wistful tune resonated with my current mood. I had been close to tears all day. I knew it had a lot to do with the fact that Dominic hadn’t responded to my last couple of letters. I probably shouldn’t have accepted his dad’s dinner invitation this week. “What song is that?” I asked, twisting my hands together. “It’s beautiful, but I don’t recognize it.”

  “Not a song,” he replied, his voice deeper than usual. He shrugged. “I was just messing around.” His focused gaze swept over me and his expression tightened. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” I lied, managing to unravel my fingers.

  He gave me a disbelieving look and raised one brow.

  “Dominic…” I blew out a breath. “He…” I trailed off. My throat closed. I squeezed my burning eyes shut and dropped down beside Ramon into the empty chair. “It doesn’t matter,” I concluded.

  “It does matter if it upsets you.” His soft voice soothed me like the surf when it gently kissed the shore. “Talk to me. C’mon surfer girl.”

  “I thought I knew him so well, what was most important to him. Lately I wonder if I got it wrong.”

  “I don’t think you did.”

  I managed a wan smile to the statement that I knew was meant to be reassuring. It only earned me a frown from him. I tried harder to unwind the emotions inside of me so that I could separate and make sense of them. “What happened to the sensitive artist that I married? The one that loved playing his bass as much as anything?”

  “That
hasn’t changed, Karen. You said he has a band over there. He hasn’t abandoned his music.”

  “Granted, but it barely rates consideration anymore. The Marines are everything to him now. He revels in all of it. The brotherhood. The honor. The glory.”

  Ramon’s dark eyes were liquid pools of understanding. “Is it really his changed attitude toward music that has you so concerned?” he inquired gently.

  I shook my head. Tears gathered as I spilled the worst of it, my second deepest fear besides something horrible happening to Dominic. “What about me, Ramon? Where do I rank in his life now?”

  “Right at the top. He loves you, Karen.”

  “Does he or am I just a convenient contingency plan?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. He wants you. He’s wanted you from the first time he ever laid eyes on you.”

  “Really. I don’t remember it that way. You were the one who…”

  “Not at the beach,” he cut in. “At the high school gym during graduation. We were there for Gonzolo. You were giving your valedictorian speech. Dominic grabbed my arm and asked me if I knew who you were. I looked you up in the program. He nodded when I told him your name, but he didn’t take his eyes off you. Not once.”

  My eyes widened. Dominic had never told me.

  “You were talking about goals. About how your priorities reflect your heart. You said that you could have all the learning in the world but if you didn’t have genuine friendships and real love in the end you had nothing.”

  “I was very idealistic back then.”

  “You were perfect.” My cheeks burned with heat from his praise and burned even brighter when his eyes met mine. A moment passed. A lingering, meaningful one. Did he mean what I thought he meant? Had there been a time when he might have considered me? A dog barked in the distance. Someone’s car locks chirped. I opened my mouth about to ask, but Ramon spoke dispelling the weighted silence between us. “Dominic wasn’t ever interested in being serious with anyone after his mother passed. I think he was afraid. I think he didn’t want to risk ending up with his heart shattered like his dad. But for you, he conquered that fear. For you, he took that risk. You are perfect for him.” The Dirt Dog’s guitarist resumed playing, and I sank deeper into my chair letting what he had revealed settle. I closed my eyes. They burned, but I didn’t cry. Instead, I repeated his words and tried to return my emotions to their proper place as wave after wave of the sympathetic chords of Ramon’s song washed over me.