Chapter Five #2
“Handle what?” Kelsey dropped to her knees, and immediately Bagel cuddled into her, rubbing his face on her leg, practically purring. “Bagel is the sweetest. He’s a rescue and hangs in the shop with Rowan.”
Everett’s teeth snapped together, and he shot Rowan a dangerous look. Amusement mixed with something darker, more elemental. Like there was something compelling underneath his plastic surface, bubbling to escape. Rowan doubted he’d ever allow it.
“Sweet, huh? He looks like a deranged animatronic.”
Kelsey gasped. “Dad, stop! You’ll hurt his feelings.” She pet the bunny, and Bagel blossomed under her attention. It was odd how fast he’d bonded to the girl. Other than Tino, Bagel wasn’t interested in most people, preferring not to be bothered. Maybe he’d sensed Kelsey needed friendship.
He obviously didn’t like Everett, so his instincts were still solid.
Everett’s nose wrinkled. “Wash your hands after, please. We better head out. I have an early morning.”
“It’s not even sunset. Can’t we stay a little longer?”
“Sorry, Kels. I’ve been out since six and still have things to do.”
Rowan watched the girl struggle but give up.
Her shoulders dropped. “Okay.” She disappeared into the shop to get her stuff.
Bagel twitched his nose and hopped after her.
Everett seemed to be waiting for Rowan to make a sarcastic comment, but she remained quiet.
As Kelsey came back out, Brie and the girls gave a whoop and grabbed their boards.
“It’s almost sunset. Let’s ride them in!” Brie shouted. They raced over the beach, kicking up sand—a flash of brown limbs, bikinis, and joy. Kelsey gave them one last longing look, then walked to Rowan.
“Thanks for letting me help today,” she said quietly. “Sorry if I bothered you.”
Rowan gave her a quick hug. “You don’t bother me. Listen, I want to set you up for surf lessons with my friend Pamela. She’s a great teacher.”
Kelsey gave a small smile. “Thanks, but no. I’m not meant to surf. I don’t want to try again with a stranger.”
Everett spoke up. “Surfing can be dangerous, anyway. There are better ways to spend your time than chasing waves for no reason. They have a tennis court close. I’ll book you a few lessons so you’ll be fresh when you get back home. Nice to meet you, Rowan. Have a good summer.”
His dismissal was clear. Rowan bristled, fighting the impulse to lose her temper and tell this infuriating man all the things he didn’t know.
But Kelsey was already walking away. The previous happy energy was now gone, like the air out of a balloon.
With every step, Rowan watched her shoulders drop a bit more, until she disappeared.
Dammit. This was not her problem or her fight. Kelsey would find her way. Maybe she’d make a few friends on the island. It was only temporary. In a few months, she’d be back in New York, at her prep school, and Hawaii would be a distant summer memory. Just like Rowan.
The ache in Rowan’s knee pulsed with the tide. Old habit had her shift weight to her right leg, foot digging into the cool top layer of sand to find steadiness. The breeze carried brine and charred pineapple. Someone’s Bluetooth speaker went tinny and then mercifully died.
The lanterns threw soft circles of light that couldn’t compete with the orange smear of the oncoming sunset.
“Ro.”
She didn’t have to turn to know. The syllable slid down her spine, the husky tone familiar.
She turned anyway and felt her throat do that strange catch—like going under and forgetting to exhale.
Lea stood a few yards away, hands shoved into the pockets of cutoff jeans.
Brown hair was twisted in her usual braids.
Barefoot, dusted with sand, her easy posture contradicted the air of wariness that emanated from her.
Eyes the color of polished slate surveyed her, mouth unsmiling.
As if she was afraid to give too much away.
Rowan noticed her T-shirt proclaimed Luana Boards was her new sponsor. Irritation rose. As Tino’s competitor, it was a shitty move. She’d expected more of Lea, but then again, she hadn’t seen her in months.
It had been easier to let her go. They weren’t in the same world anymore.
“You staying for the cleanup crew?” Rowan tried, because deflection was a muscle she’d built up to a perfect carve.
Lea glanced at the trail where Kelsey had vanished. “Who’s the girl?”
Rowan shrugged. “Just a tourist kid.”
“Uh-huh.” Lea took a step closer. The distance between them tasted like a rip. “She’s got that look. I caught her staring at Brie and everyone when we were out.”
“What look?”
Lea’s mouth softened, just for a second. “The first time you smell a board and your whole chest goes weird. The first time the ocean calls you by your name.” She met Rowan’s eyes. “What’s her story?”
“Her dad’s staying for the summer. He’s building some luxury hotel,” Rowan said. It came out flat. “She wandered into Tino’s. Asked about surf lessons. That’s all.”
“And you told her no.”
Rowan’s stomach tightened. “I told her I don’t teach.”
“I heard,” Lea said. She tipped her head toward the tables where the remnants of the party lingered. “You turned down a kid who wants to surf. You?”
Rowan blew out an annoyed breath. “I’m trying to get her to take lessons from Pam. She’s perfect with beginners.”
“Unbelievable.” Lea spread her hands, palms up, all that clean, strong surfer’s confidence honed by years of balancing on knife water.
“You used to stay out with the groms until their lips were blue. You’d coach them through standing, wipe out with them on purpose so they wouldn’t be scared.
You used to love teaching groms. What happened to you? ”
It shouldn’t have landed like a punch, but it did. Air left Rowan’s lungs. She gripped the hem of her T-shirt, fingers pinching into the cotton.
“Life,” she said curtly. “I got hurt, so I can’t surf. My dad passed, so I had to clean out his belongings and live in the house alone.”
“Oh, Ro.” Lea’s eyes flickered and Rowan fought off a wave of emotion. No, she couldn’t go there. It would swallow her whole. “Why do you keep pushing me away? I can help.”
“Don’t need help. I like where I am. I stock rash guards and suntan lotion and sand the boards when Tino’s fingers cramp. That’s me now.”
Lea blinked. “Bullshit.”
“I don’t teach anymore.” The words were pebbles dropping into the dark. “I don’t surf.”
Silence steeped between them in the hush of the outgoing tide. Lea’s jaw flexed. “That’s a lie,” she said quietly. “Maybe you don’t paddle out. Maybe you pretend not to look. But you can’t sit here and tell me you’re not a surfer.”
“Don’t.”
“You think I didn’t notice?” Lea’s voice went sharper. “You think I haven’t been trying to reach you for a year? I text, you don’t answer. I call, you let it go. I stop by Tino’s and you’re on break, or in the back, or gone.”
Rowan stared at the dark line of water rolling on the sand, over and over. The repetition had always calmed her. Now it scratched at something raw. “I’ve been busy.”
“Busy?” Lea let out a laugh that was nothing like the ones Rowan remembered. “Busy avoiding all of us? Busy pretending you don’t care? Busy pretending your knee is a reason to cut out your own heart?”
Heat crawled up Rowan’s neck. “You don’t know what it’s like,” she said.
She could hear the wobble in her own voice and hated it.
“You don’t get to stand here and judge me.
You’re still on the circuit, still winning, still getting sponsorship checks and glossy photos on magazine covers.
Which, by the way, congrats. Way to screw over Tino.
What’d Luana Boards pay you? Enough to forget who helped you from the beginning? ”
Lea stepped forward, the sand sinking under her heels.
“I cleared it with Tino before I said yes! You just dipped out when I tried to talk to you about the offer. And yeah, it all looks great from the outside, but you think I haven’t lost, too?
You think I don’t wake up some mornings and wonder how long I have before it all goes?
But that’s not even the point. You shut everyone out.
You won’t even let us stand next to you while you decide to drown on land. ”
Rowan bristled. “I’m not drowning.”
“You are.” Lea’s words cut. “I’ve seen you at the harbor.”
Rowan’s head snapped up. “What?”
“In the morning, before the shop opens.” Lea’s gaze didn’t flinch. “You park by the pilings and watch the sets roll in. You think you hide, but I see you, Ro. You look at the water like you’re starving. Like your fingers ache because they’re not around a rail.”
Rowan’s stomach dropped. The image of herself across the channel, sunglasses on, coffee gone cold, hit too clean. She tucked her hands under her arms like she could hide them. Her knee throbbed, phantom pain and memory.
Lea’s voice softened. “You act like getting hurt means the ocean turned its back on you. It didn’t. You turned yours.”
Something burned under Rowan’s ribs. Anger. Shame. A grief so big she couldn’t even name it. She swallowed hard and tasted salt. “My life is different now,” she said, each word deliberate. “That life is over.”
Lea shook her head. “No.”
“Yes,” Rowan snapped. “You weren’t there in the ER, okay?
You didn’t hear what the doc said. You didn’t feel it when my knee went sideways and the board smacked me and all I could think was, I’m done.
You weren’t there when everything you planned pulls away like a set you misread.
So don’t stand here and pretend you get it. ”