Chapter 9
9
S ailor stuffed some shirts, board shorts, and flip-flops into a backpack on his bed. When the zipper wouldn’t close, he punched them to fit, feeling exasperated over what he’d seen yesterday.
A blond-haired woman in a T-shirt and denim shorts appeared by the door. “Oh, my gosh, what did that backpack ever do to you?”
He grimaced as he strained the zipper shut. “Not now, Skeeter.”
She hooked a thumb into a belt loop and watched him struggle. “With your talent, why do you keep running Dad’s bike concession at the Majestic? You’re depriving some kid of a great starter job.”
That was a question his father had once asked. Sailor had his reasons, though he maintained that staying close to his roots kept him grounded. “Don’t lecture me. I just need you to cover for me while I’m gone. I can usually grab one of our cousins or a busboy from the Majestic who wants extra cash, but this time, everyone is busy.”
He traveled frequently on the Championship tour of the World Surf League. He’d won when he was younger, though competition was fierce now. Still, he had his share of sponsorships.
“You’re lucky I didn’t have anything planned,” Skeeter said.
Sailor made a face. “Ever think you’ll go on tour again?”
She shook her head. “I haven’t been surfing much. Graduate school is tough, big brother. Hey, before you go, would you show me how to work that fancy Italian espresso machine in the kitchen? That contraption looks like it cost as much as my car, and it’s probably more highly engineered. I can’t believe you bought that. You were the king of instant coffee.”
Sailor ignored that. “It makes a great cup of coffee. And what else do I have to spend money on besides my boards?”
“How about a new SUV?” Her eyes brightened. Get one with built-in massage seats. They’re great for long trips.”
He smirked. “On an island?”
“You don’t have to take that attitude.” She crossed her arms. “What’s bothering you?”
“Sorry, Skeets. I’m just rattled over this trip. As for a new vehicle, I don’t have time to shop, and I hate the sales pressure.”
Those weren’t the main reasons, though. After buying this house, he banked most of his competition winnings and sponsorships. There wasn’t much he needed, although he’d spent money on a new guitar for his father and covered Skeeter’s tuition.
He followed his sister into the kitchen to show her how to operate the machine he’d accidentally acquired. His girlfriend hated his instant coffee and wanted one of these, so she’d ordered it on his credit card without his knowledge. However, she’d left him for another guy by the time it arrived. It was such a beauty he figured he’d keep it.
That’s the way a lot of women were around him, he’d found. Fancy new cars only attracted that type.
That seemed to be what Maileah was after, too, he thought, flexing his jaw. He’d seen her with Todd yesterday, going into Chef Gianna’s cooking class. Not that he cared. She could do whatever she wanted. It wasn’t any of his business.
His chaperone days were over.
“Now, watch this.” Sailor showed Skeeter how to use the machine. He made an espresso and handed it to her.
“Wow, this is delicious,” she said. “Okay, it’s worth it.”
“But you can’t drive that.” He mussed her hair, and she ducked away from him.
“With espresso this strong, I’d just run.” She drained her small cup. “Ready to catch the ferry?”
“Whenever you are.”
Skeeter rinsed out the cup and left it in the sink. “Don’t forget your boards and gear.”
“Everything is in the Jeep. Let’s go.”
Skeeter followed him, just as she always had when they were kids. He’d taught her to surf, and they’d entered the same competitions for years. Now, she had other ambitions, and he couldn’t be prouder of her.
Looking after his kid sister brought out a protective streak in him. He supposed that’s why he’d agreed when Maileah asked him for help with her dating app jerks. Except she was trying too hard, in his opinion, but she hadn’t asked him for it.
He couldn’t figure out what she saw in strait-laced Todd, nor could he imagine two people less suited to each other.
Of course, Sailor had survived his share of ill-fitting relationships. Someday, he’d find someone who shared his passions, but he wasn’t in a hurry.
Skeeter climbed into the dusty Jeep and clicked her seatbelt. “What time is your flight to Hawaii?”
“Not until later. I like to have plenty of time to wander around the airport and read. A couple of buddies from San Clemente will be on that flight, too.”
He’d met them years ago surfing the Lower Trestles, an area just south of San Onofre State Beach, one of the most consistent stretches for surfing. The wind and swell conditions on San Diego’s North County beach were ideal, with the peak perfectly positioned. Easy paddle-outs and endless waves, peeling left or right-handers. Sheer bliss.
And then there was Pipeline in Oahu, where he’d once sustained an injury that took months to come back from.
Sailor could have taken a flight from the small airstrip here on Crown Island, but that had been built by the Majestic Hotel years ago for private planes and emergency use. He didn’t need to spend money on luxuries, even though his accountant told him he could write it off. The ferry and car to the airport were fine with him. Besides, he liked riding the ferry across the waves.
He started the vehicle and backed out. “What else will you do while I’m gone?”
“I need to catch up on homework,” she replied. “I have case studies to read and a paper to write.”
“Hope this education pays off for you.” He rolled down the window to let in the ocean breeze.
“I want to learn everything I can,” Skeeter said. “I’m concerned about the shop. Last time I was there, Dad’s finances didn’t look so good.”
Sailor waved off her observation. “I usually cover any shortfalls.”
“You shouldn’t have to, though.” Skeeter wound her hair into a knot at the nape of her neck. “I have some ideas; I could help him, too.”
“All Dad ever wanted to do was to write and play music. He’s a frustrated musician. I get it.”
Their father had taken over Regal Bikes for his father when he became ill. It was too much for their grandfather, so Adrian set aside his dreams.
Skeeter gazed out the window. “Do you think he’s happy?”
“As happy as he can be without Mom.”
“Yeah.” Skeeter sighed. “Sometimes life doesn’t turn out the way you want it.”
“Don’t let stuff get to you.” Sailor reached across and gave her a playful punch in the arm. “Just look at where we get to live.”
“Maybe you.”
“Come back, then.” Still, Sailor often had similar thoughts. After seeing what had happened to their father, he wondered if he could risk getting that close to someone.
The answer was usually no.
Sailor passed the Ferry Cafe and pulled into a parking area. The cherry-red ferry was waiting, so he slid out.
Skeeter followed him. “Say hello to our friends, will you?”
“Will do. Just finish your schoolwork. You’re almost through.” He had removed the fins from his boards and stacked them in his special travel bag with padding for protection. He would watch to make sure they were loaded onto the plane and off at the other side in Oahu.
Skeeter hugged him. “Good luck at Sunset Beach. I’ll be watching. Love you, brother.”
“Love you, too.” He grinned. “Now, get out of here.”
Sailor hoisted his board bag and stepped aboard the ferry, nodding at the captain, who’d been operating this craft for as long as he could remember. Captain Red, he was called, for his hair and the color of the boat.
Sailor stood by the railing, raising his hand in a wave to Skeeter.