Chapter Thirty-Three
The shell bell over the surf shop door gave its soft, familiar jingle, the one Tino refused to upgrade because he said it carried “good mana.” Rowan glanced up from restocking wax bars behind the counter, expecting a tourist or one of the dawn-patrol regulars hiding from the afternoon heat.
Instead, Kelsey stood in the doorway.
They hadn’t scheduled a lesson today. Dressed in her bathing suit and cover-up, beach bag slung over her shoulder, she was no longer the girl she’d been when Rowan first saw her.
The designer stuff was gone, along with the fancy makeup.
Her skin glowed and the acne on her forehead had cleared.
Her hair was pulled back in a simple ponytail.
But today, those shoulders slumped like the weight of something too big for thirteen had settled between her shoulder blades. Rowan’s heart tugged so sharply she had to grip the counter. “Kels?” she asked gently. “Hey. What’s wrong, sweetheart?”
Kelsey didn’t answer right away. Pushing her sunglasses to the top of her head, she gazed at her with bright eyes. “I talked to my dad,” she blurted, voice too fast. “About . . . you know. About New York. And school. And going home.”
Rowan wiped her hands on her shorts and stepped out from behind the counter. “Okay. That’s good. Talking is good.”
“I know he’s trying. He’s working on getting me into this other school that may be better, but this morning, he looked sad. He told me he asked you to move with us.”
Ah. So Everett had told her. Of course he had.
Last night had been brutal. Waking up to find him gone this morning had been the confirmation she’d won. He’d let her go because there was no other choice. It might have been the right decision, but it still shattered her insides and made her want to lock herself back up and not come out.
But he’d taught her lessons this summer, also. And she refused to forget them.
“How did that make you feel?”
Kelsey’s chin trembled. “I knew you couldn’t go, Rowan.
If I lived here with family and Bagel and surfing and friends, I’d never leave ever.
You’d hate the city.” Her smile was forced but she was trying.
“I tried to explain to Dad that I didn’t want to go back, either.
That I like it here. That people are nicer.
That they don’t care about stupid clothes or test scores or—” Her breath caught.
“That I like me more here. Because of you. But I don’t think he heard me. ”
Rowan closed her eyes briefly, the ache moving through her like undertow. How could she blame Everett for doing the best he could? He was still terrified of being anything less than perfect for his daughter. He’d built his life on rules; he didn’t know how to interpret a heart-scream like this.
She reached out and took Kelsey’s hands in hers.
“Hey. Look at me.” The girl turned and met her gaze.
“Your dad loves you more than anyone in the world,” Rowan said, letting every word land with the full force of truth.
“He may not have heard you the way you needed, but he will. I promise you he will. He’s trying so hard, and sometimes when grown-ups try too hard, it makes them stubborn and scared and a little bit dumb. ”
Kelsey let out the tiniest chuckle, which helped loosen Rowan’s chest.
“And I meant what I told you,” Rowan continued, brushing a strand of hair off her forehead. “I’m here. No matter what happens. If you need me, you call or text and I’ll stop whatever I’m doing. I’m not going anywhere.”
Kelsey flung her arms around her neck. “I love you, Rowan,” she said softly.
“Love you, too, surfer girl.” Rowan hugged her back, tucking her chin against the girl’s hair, inhaling that faint scent of sunscreen, ocean, and childhood she’d grown so attached to.
After a long moment, Kelsey mumbled into her shoulder, “Can we surf? I just want to stop thinking. And I don’t want to go back yet.”
Rowan leaned back and smiled. “Lucky for you, I happen to know a great spot for avoiding thoughts.”
Kelsey blinked. “The North Shore?”
“Exactly. Grab your board, grom. We’re playing hooky. Text your dad.”
Tino poked his head around the shaping bay, brows lifting. “North Shore again? You two gonna give me a heart attack. Traffic gonna be heavy.”
Rowan tossed him a look. “We’ll leave now. Beat most of it.”
Kelsey wiped her cheeks, sniffling but lighter already. “Can Bagel come?”
“No,” Rowan laughed. “He’s in one of his moods. And no one wants him judging their paddling.”
Kelsey actually laughed. “Be right back, gotta pee.” She disappeared into the tiny back restroom, and Rowan stood for a second, letting her pulse settle.
This girl had cracked open spaces she’d sealed off since her father died. And now she was caught between wanting what Kelsey wanted . . . and knowing Everett had to follow his own path.
They walked out into the bright afternoon, boards under their arms. Rowan loaded everything into the truck, and Kelsey climbed into the passenger seat, bare feet up, already looking more like herself.
They headed north.
Everett thought he was driving to Purity, but he ended up at the surf shop.
Cursing under his breath, he stared out the windshield at the mango-colored building. He wanted to talk to Rowan, but he wasn’t sure what to say. Instinct pushed him to see her before he got to work, even though they’d said everything to each other the other night.
His chest tightened. He was getting out of the car when the text came through.
At North Shore with Rowan. Beach party @4. Rowan said I can stay.
Everett sighed and stared at the screen. She wasn’t even here. She was off surfing with his daughter, who adored her.
In that moment, resentment spiked. He should be with them. Holding Rowan’s hand while she laughed and called him Suit. Watching Kelsey catch a wave and ride it in with sheer bravery and joy.
He gave the text a thumbs-up.
Dad, come to party tonight if you can.
It’d probably be the last one he could make. The thought made his gut clench.
Might as well say hello to Tino while he was here and grab a water.
Everett trudged inside and peeked through the doors of Tino’s workshop. The scent of resin and wax filled the air. He shifted awkwardly at the entrance, watching the shaper work. Tino hummed under his breath, gaze locked on the board, hands both gentle and steady.
“Aloha.” He didn’t look up. “Rowan took Kelsey to the North Shore.”
“Um, yeah, I got the text.” Light trickled through the glass and bounced like golden beams. “There’s another party tonight?”
“Yes. We like our gatherings. Family is important.” Everett nodded but the man didn’t see him. “You should come. Say goodbye.”
The word was like a ricochet but he tried not to wince. “Definitely. We’re going to miss everyone. It’s been a hell of a summer.”
Back and forth, Tino continued to sand. “Rowan told me you got your big new job. Congratulations. It’s what you’ve wanted, right?”
“It’s not official yet, but I’m positive the offer’s coming. It’s a life-changing opportunity.”
“That’s good.” A pause. “I’m sure you’ll miss Rowan.”
And just like that, Everett broke. “I asked her to come with me. I wanted her to live with us in New York and start a life together, but she said she can’t leave.
” He began to pace the tiny space. “I don’t blame her, either.
But I fell in love with that woman and now I can’t be with her and this whole thing is a damn mess that’s killing both me and my daughter. ”
Tino stopped and looked up. “Hmm. That’s hard. I guess there’s nothing you can do, Suit.”
Everett blew out an annoyed breath. “I’m trying to get your advice, Tino. You know her best. What should I do?”
“Stay.”
His jaw unhinged. He snapped it closed. “Stay in Hawaii? Am I supposed to blow up my life when I’m finally close to the promotion I dreamed of? Drag Kelsey out of the finest schools in the country to chase waves on Waikiki? Trade in my suits for a surfboard and live on the beach?”
Tino’s dark eyes were kind but sparkled with a tad of mischief. “Yes.”
Everett stared at him. “Yes? What do you mean, yes? It makes no sense. People just don’t do that in their thirties with a practical job and a daughter!”
The sanding of the board remained smooth and consistent. “Why not?”
He blew out a breath. “Obviously, it was a mistake to come here for advice.”
Tino shrugged. “I just tell you the truth. You only have to ask one question, but the answer comes from the body, not the mind.”
“That sounds way too easy, Tino.”
The man cackled. Everett glared. Then Tino reached for a board, pressing it into Everett’s hands, gazing at him with a solemn intensity that made him pause and listen.
“You go out to the waves. You ask the question why would you move here. You let the body tell you, not the mind.” He tapped his temple slowly.
“Mind isn’t in charge.” He patted his chest. “The heart is. Go and see. Whatever your answer is, it’s the right one. ”
“Ask the ocean? Are we in a Disney movie where the mentor suddenly solves all the problems for the protagonist?”
Tino ignored him. Humming under his breath, he refocused on the board under his capable hands, caught in a vision only he could see. Like he hadn’t just told Everett to go commune with the ocean and let his “body” answer the biggest question of his life.
Tino’s shoulders relaxed, mind somewhere else entirely—as if he’d detached from the conversation the same way a monk detaches from worldly suffering. Everett glared harder, hoping annoyance alone could force the man to turn around and explain himself.
Nothing.
He shifted the board awkwardly from one hand to the other, feeling utterly idiotic, then cleared his throat. “So that’s it? That’s the big wisdom? I’m supposed to take this thing”—he lifted the board an inch—“out into the ocean and ask a question like I’m in some midlife crisis guidebook?”
Tino didn’t even bother pausing his sanding. “A midlife crisis is buying a red convertible. Asking the ocean is normal.”
“What if the ocean doesn’t talk back?”
This time, Tino gave him a look. Not pitying. Not patronizing. Just mildly amused, like Everett had said something very obvious. “Ocean always talks back.”
Everett let out an incredulous laugh. “Unbelievable. I don’t even have a bathing suit.”
Tino jerked his head. “Grab one from the shop and change in the back.”
He meant to leave. He needed to get back to the office, and surfing beforehand would be ridiculous. It made no sense.
Everett grabbed the bathing suit, quickly changed, and trudged across the warm sand, still cursing Tino under his breath.
But he kept going because there was nothing else left to try.
A few surfers were out today, but he was still a beginner, so he wasn’t about to challenge anyone for a wave or go out that deep for a chat.
Too bad. They’d probably have better advice than Tino.
He tossed the board down onto the sand and stared at it like Bagel stared at him. “Fine. I’ll play the game.”
He waded through the shallows, water folding around his ankles, the resistance tugging at him until he threw himself onto the board and began to paddle with long, awkward strokes.
It felt nothing like the clean, confident glide of the surfers around him; he was all elbows and floppiness.
But he kept going, breath steadying with the rhythm.
Soon his shoulders warmed and his frenzied thoughts began to quiet.
When he reached the surf line, he sat up on the board and let his feet dangle. The ocean rocked him gently. He dragged a hand through his wet hair and took a long breath.
“Okay, ocean,” he said softly, the words snatched by wind. “Why would I move here?”
He waited.
Nothing happened.
“This is so stupid.” Feeling like an asshole, Everett rolled his eyes and looked toward shore, ready to declare the whole exercise a bust. But then a small wave surged underneath him, lifting the board just an inch, nudging him in a direction he hadn’t chosen.
His muscles responded automatically, and he adjusted, letting the flow take over.
He caught the swell, using the techniques Rowan had taught him, and popped up, riding it in with the same freedom he experienced when his daughter laughed or held his hand or Rowan kissed him and stared up with those beautiful green eyes.
And suddenly—without warning—his body answered.
It wasn’t a sentence or a revelation or a grand cinematic vision. The simple word drifted up from inside him.
Peace.
He thought over this past summer and all the moments leading up to now. All the moments in the quiet he’d overlooked because it wasn’t his goal or something he easily recognized.
He was happiest around Rowan and his daughter. Not chasing shiny new objects to prove something. Just . . .
Living.
New York had never felt like this. Like a chance to draw a line that belonged to him, not his father’s expectations or the ghost of the man he’d tried to be.
Everett stood with his feet in the sand and the sun on his shoulders, and wondered if he was brave enough to blow it all up for something bigger.