Chapter Nineteen
The house was quiet. The kind of quiet that comes after hours spent with salt water, laughter, and chaos. The kind holding a deep, satisfied exhaustion that settles after a long, sunburned day.
Everett stood by the sliding glass doors, nursing a beer that had gone warm.
The faint sound of the ocean drifted in the fragrant air.
The beach party had been everything Kelsey wanted.
Surfing and giggling girls; kids running barefoot between the bonfire and the water; a sense of community and belonging.
He’d thought they had a satisfying life in New York. Kelsey had friends and never complained. He had coworkers he liked, with the occasional date that always led to tidy endings. He loved his job, and the city was dynamic, full of education and opportunities and activity.
So why did tonight feel so much more . .
. real? He’d only spoken with Tino and Howie for a short time.
Yet, their conversation revolved around issues deeper than a business deal, and they didn’t care about his social status.
There was nothing to prove, simply an exchange based on human emotion and some snarky humor he enjoyed.
When was the last time his interactions were about more than work, or tasks, or goals?
He rubbed his temple as the thoughts tangled in his head.
He’d made fun of Rowan for the way she lived, judging harshly because her priorities were different.
Shame filled him. He’d thought himself better than that.
She’d taught him so much more . . . and kept pushing him to new, uncomfortable levels.
Everett couldn’t stop thinking of how his daughter had tugged Rowan aside. The wide eyes and uncertainty in her face. The flash of helplessness occurred more often than he wanted, especially as she got older.
And Rowan had stepped in without hesitation to handle this emotional time with grace and kindness. Kelsey had shared personal moments about her mom, and Rowan had been able to not only understand, but know exactly what she was going through.
Rowan had changed everything.
He heard Kelsey’s door creak and turned as she padded into the living room. Clad in an oversize T-shirt, hair still damp from her shower, she hesitated when she saw him.
“Hey,” he said softly. “Can’t sleep?”
She shook her head and flopped on the couch. Pulling her knees up, she tucked her bare feet underneath. Everett sat down beside her. “Good party, right?” he asked.
“Yeah.” A small smile. “It was amazing. I really like Brie and Mia and Chelsea. They said my stance is solid and now I get to practice bottom turns. I also like Tino and Cousin Howie. They’re super nice and make me laugh.”
“That’s great, Kels. I’m proud of you.”
She nodded, staring at her hands for a second. Then: “Dad?”
Were his palms sweating? Would she tell him? Would he screw up this fragile confidence if she did? “Yeah?”
Her voice came small, uncertain. “I . . . um . . . I got my period tonight.”
For a second, the words hung there, simple and monumental. Slowly, he nodded. “I figured,” he said gently. “Rowan told me she helped. I hope you’re not mad she told me.”
Kelsey’s cheeks flushed pink. “No, it’s okay. I freaked out. But she was so calm. She said it’s normal. She even had, like, supplies under the sink to help. Who does that?”
He smiled, a lump rising in his throat. “Someone who’s prepared for anything, apparently.”
“She didn’t make it weird, either. Said it was, like, a good thing because that’s what my body is supposed to do.”
Everett swallowed hard. “It’s true. I’m really glad she was there for you.”
“I got mad, though. About Mom not being there.” She nibbled at her lower lip.
He studied her bare feet and braces and that tiny crease between her brow when she was thinking hard.
She was growing up so fast, and he couldn’t get his feet underneath him.
“Do you know the same thing happened to Rowan? Her mom left, too, but she said it’s their loss because we both have great dads that are there. ”
Something broke loose in his chest. Everett doubted it’d ever reknit again.
He had to clear his throat to talk. “Rowan’s right.
I can’t take that pain away from you, honey.
I hate that you have it, but anyone who’s lucky enough to know you is blessed.
I still can’t believe I get to be your dad.
I got the best part of the bargain. I swear it. ”
She blinked a few times and then the tension in her face smoothed out. Those beautiful blue eyes brightened with the innate joy that was part of her core. She leaned her head on his arm and the world righted itself again. “Thanks for not getting weird.”
“I probably would’ve if Rowan wasn’t there,” he admitted, and she laughed. “I guess she took care of both of us tonight.”
Silence stretched, warm and comfortable. He stroked her hair, enjoying the snuggle. Then Kelsey tilted her head. “Dad, do you like her?”
Oh, crap. “What makes you ask that?”
“I saw you. When we were packing up, she touched your cheek. You didn’t look mad.”
In that moment, he decided he wouldn’t lie to her. Kelsey deserved more. He took a breath and smiled a little. “I do like her.”
Kelsey grinned. “Cool. Because when you’re around her, you don’t look so . . . intense all the time. And she smiles more when you’re there. It’s like you guys make each other better.”
The words pummeled him square in the chest. His pulse sped up. “That’s a really good observation, Kels.”
“So, are you dating?”
Everett hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah. We are. For now.”
“For now?”
He tried to find the right words. “When summer ends, we go back to New York. She stays here. It’s complicated.”
“Oh.” The word was small, soft. She picked at the hem of her shirt. “I guess that makes sense.”
The quiet stretched again, not as easy this time. “You okay?” he asked.
Kelsey nodded, though her eyes were downcast. “Yeah. I just . . . I wish it didn’t have to end. That’s all.”
He wanted to tell her he felt the same. That every part of him rebelled at the thought of leaving this island, this woman, this version of himself that finally felt alive. But he stayed quiet.
After a moment, Kelsey looked up. “Dad, do we have to always live in New York?”
He blinked. “What do you mean?”
“Just wondering.” She reached for her phone, stared at the screen, and her face shifted—something haunting behind her eyes, quick and uncertain.
“Kels?”
“Nothing,” she said quickly, locking the screen and setting it down. “Never mind. I was just thinking about school.”
He watched her for a long moment, instinct tingling. There was something she wasn’t saying. Something that tightened her shoulders and made her glance away too fast.
But she leaned into him again, resting her head against his side, and the moment passed. He wrapped an arm around her and kissed the top of her head. “I love you, honey.”
“Love you, too, Dad.”
He settled into the quiet and the peace without thinking of the next thing.
He simply let things be.
The shop was half lit from the late-afternoon sun filtering through the slatted blinds. The heat had been intense, so she’d settled Bagel in his crate with his snacks, ice, and fan. He slept like a little prince, snoring softly. As Kelsey would sigh, he was adorbs.
The air carried that familiar blend of wax, resin, and salt—comforting and sharp all at once.
Rowan wiped down the counter and wondered if Tino would pop his head in.
He’d been hunkered down working on a custom board he refused to share.
Some bigwig surfer who wanted complete secrecy.
It was driving Rowan crazy trying to figure out who it could be, but Tino honored every request, so he’d refused to tell.
She chugged some water and enjoyed the quiet.
The week had been busier than usual. She’d extended the lessons with Kelsey as they moved to bottom turns, and Everett popped in when he could manage to sneak away.
Since the beach picnic, they’d spent more time together.
Three days this week, they’d all had dinner together, and Everett had begun to stay over regularly.
Things were getting a bit more intense.
Rowan wasn’t sure what to do about it, so for now, she’d decided to flow. Easier not to get tangled up in thoughts and fears about when it would all end.
Easier to take the gift of the moment like a good wave.
The shell bell over the door jangled.
Lea stepped in, sunglasses pushed to her head, her dark hair twisted up in a careless knot. She was grinning like someone keeping a secret too long. Tino followed, a long board bag tucked under one arm.
Rowan frowned. “You’re both smiling. That’s suspicious.”
“Relax, Delaney.” Lea leaned against the counter. “We come bearing gifts.”
Rowan crossed her arms. “Looks too big for the coconut rum I like. Which is too bad because I haven’t sung karaoke since that fateful night at the tiki bar.”
Tino shook his head. “You are a bad singer, girl. This present is better.” They shared a glance of banked excitement, which made Rowan curious. He unzipped the bag with slow ceremony, sliding out the new board like a magician revealing a trick.
The breath left her chest.
It was gorgeous. Sunburst resin faded from coral to gold with clean rails and a perfect pin tail. She reached out before she realized she was moving. Her fingers brushed the glassed-in stringer, warm from the day.
“Tino,” she whispered. “You shaped this?”
“Been working on it for a while now,” he said simply. “A project I did slow, not knowing when it would be right. Lea came to see me and said it was time. I agreed.”
Lea’s smile softened. “He didn’t tell you because he knew you’d argue. We wanted to do it right.”
Rowan crouched to trace the underside. She had to blink fast to clear the blur. “Dad’s old stringer. Where’d you find it?”
“In his old shaping bay,” Tino said. “Thought it was time you had a board that felt like home.”
Lea crouched beside her, resting an elbow on her knee. “We’re not asking you to jump back into competitions. This isn’t about that. It’s about getting your joy back, Ro. You don’t have to prove anything.”
Rowan swallowed. “I don’t know if I can.”
“You don’t have to know,” Lea said softly. “You just have to paddle out.”
Tino leaned on the counter, voice low but sure. “Your dad used to tell me you were born in the pocket. That’s not something that disappears, girl.”
The emotion hit like undertow—unexpected and deep. She set her palm flat against the board, right over her father’s initials. JD. And beneath it, carved into the wood in Tino’s clean, steady hand:
Find your line.
Her laugh cracked around the edges. “You guys are impossible.”
Lea smiled. “You’ll thank us later. We’ll go out this weekend. Just you and me. Easy session.”
“I’ll bring the camera,” Tino said.
Rowan rolled her eyes, but the lump in her throat wouldn’t go away. “You’re relentless!”
“Only because we love you.” Lea stood and nudged her shoulder. “You ready?”
Rowan looked down at the board again. The light caught the resin and threw back gold. Her chest ached, but not in that hollow, missing way. More like something finally stretching open.
“Yeah,” she said quietly. “I think I’m getting there.”
Rowan stared at the two people she’d pushed away over and over, too broken to care about how it hurt both ways. People who’d loved her father and never stopped believing she’d make her way back. There were too many words and too much emotion, so she did the only thing she could.
She brought the board close to her heart. “Thank you.”
They smiled back at the acceptance of the gift.
It was a new start. And she was almost ready.