by Maggie Knox
“Let me help you.” He smiled down at her as he supported the surfboard until she got what felt like a proper, if still slightly awkward, hold on the smooth fiberglass surface, then leaned it against the car without incident.
Cass smiled back, genuinely happy, no matter how embarrassing all her surfboard fumbling had been. Miguel had that effect on her, she was noticing.
Miguel inclined his head toward the sun rising over the ocean, holding up his phone. “I just checked the swell. It’s south/southeast today, so not as big as I like it, but it’ll do.” Cass felt relieved to hear this but tried not to show it because she didn’t want Miguel to know how utterly inexperienced she was.
“Apparently, the best waves are that way.” He gestured southwest down the beach. “You okay with walking for a bit?”
Cass tried not to grimace at the idea of carrying the board more than a few feet. “Oh, sure, of course. Wherever the best waves are, right?”
Her arms were shaking by the time they reached their destination. She put down her board and turned to the ocean. Those were what Miguel considered small swells? She watched a surfer catch and ride what looked to her like an enormous wave.
“Miguel,” she began, turning to him. “I have to admit something to you.”
“Oh yeah? What’s that?” He turned away from the water to look at her. His wet suit clung to his sculpted chest and she forced herself to meet his eyes and focus on the mortifying truth she could no longer hide from him.
“I . . . don’t actually know how to surf. Not very well, anyway.”
She hated how confused he looked—and for a terrible moment, imagined the expression on his face if she decided to tell him everything: that not only did she not know how to surf, but she also wasn’t Charlie Goodwin.
“Really? But you look so professional with your fancy board and wet suit,” he said, the smile returning to his handsome face.
“The truth is, it’s my sister who likes to surf.” This felt like it really was true, so she kept going. “I got this stuff when I moved here because I was hopeful I’d have time to learn. The problem is, I’m always working. When my sister visits, she’s the one who takes this stuff out. I keep it for her. And when you texted I was out with Priya and I may have had one too many cocktails.”
“Oh boy, so that’s why you agreed to a surf date with me?”
“No! Of course not! It’s just—”
“It’s okay, Charlie. No harm done at all. I had a feeling about the surfing. You seemed to be struggling with your board.”
She felt her cheeks grow warm. “I’m sorry.”
“What for?” he said, stepping closer. He smelled like coconut sunscreen and saltwater. “To be honest, I was feeling a little concerned about you surfing so soon after your injury—but couldn’t resist the idea of spending time with you.” His dark eyes were intense, caring. “We’ll just take it slow, that’s all.” Momentarily confused if he was talking about their relationship or surfing, she took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. “Okay, let’s do this,” she said. But he put his hands on her shoulders and squeezed gently.
“Here’s a secret about surfing, and it’s the reason surf bums have the rep they do.”
“What rep is that?”
“You know, the whole ‘relax dude’ mentality?” He grinned and held up his right hand in a “hang loose” sign. “It’s actually a thing. Surfing doesn’t work if you don’t relax.” For a moment he rubbed his thumb in circles around the knot at the base of her neck. Then he lowered his hand and said, “Okay, now breathe.”
“I am breathing,” she said, but realized that she had been holding her breath. She exhaled, then breathed in again. The air was tangy with the scent of the seawater.
“Excellent,” he said. “You’re a pro already. Now, come on, grab your board. Do it like this. It’s less awkward that way.” He demonstrated, and she followed suit with her own. It did feel easier. She followed him into the water.
“I know we’re supposed to spend time on the sand, learning the basics—but with your recent injury, I’d like to be even more gentle. I hope you’re okay with that. Into the water, come on.” Soon, the surf swirled around her ankles, then her knees. “Alright, put your board down and get on,” he said. “Attach your ankle strap, lie down, and keep on breathing.”
Cass did as she was told, inhaling the warm salty air again.
“Now, roll on your back.”
“On my back?”
“You did say I get to be the teacher today, right? On your back, then reach out your hand.”
Again, she did as he suggested and reached out, feeling his hand meet hers in the waves. Their fingers linked and he pulled her close until their boards were touching. The sky was the same deep, clear blue it had been almost every day since she had arrived in L.A., today dotted with cotton ball clouds. A pelican swooped overhead. Their boards clunked together in the gentle waves. “Breathe with the waves,” Miguel said. Her surfboard lifted, up and down, again and again, and she did her best to breathe along with the movements. Miguel’s fingers were warm. He squeezed and she squeezed back.
“This is the easiest surf lesson I’ve ever had,” she said. “But aren’t you even going to try to teach me how to get up on my board?”
He squeezed her fingers again. “That’s for next time,” he said. “I want you to feel it first.”
“Feel what?”
“The reward of it, the peace of it. There is nothing like the feeling of catching your first wave—but you’ll never get there if you try too hard.” She let her body relax onto her board and into the sweet lull from the small waves, as she breathed in sea air and stared up at a sunny sky.
“I love this.”
“Me, too.” Miguel let go of her hand and she found herself dismayed by the loss of connection. But then he touched her arm once more, running his finger along the temporary tattoo. “I’ve noticed this a few times, and always wondered: What does it mean?”
“It’s a Gemini glyph,” Cass said. “It represents twins, and the mountain range back in our hometown. My sister, Cass, has one, too.” She felt a twinge as she said this, wishing again she could be honest about who she was. To introduce Miguel to Charlie as the man she had fallen for. Cass wished Miguel could really be part of her life, instead of just this waking dream of what her life could be like.
“I’d like to meet Cass one day.”
“I’d like that, too,” Cass said. The sound of the surf muted the catch in her voice.
Then he turned his face and kissed her like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Like they were made for each other.
* * *
• • •
Miguel finished securing the surfboard to the roof of Charlie’s car, then turned to Cass.
“I don’t really want this day to end,” he said, tilting his head and looking at her thoughtfully.
“Neither do I,” Cass admitted. Her spirits, which had been growing heavy at the idea of saying goodbye to Miguel, began to lift again.
“Unfortunately, I have plans.”
And back down they went. She forced a smile, determined not to appear as needy as she was suddenly feeling. “Okay, well, thanks for—”
“Would it be crazy of me to ask you to come along with me to dinner at my parents’ place? With my entire family? I know meeting someone’s family feels like a big step, and I want you to know there is no pressure to say yes. But they’re all such huge Charlie Goodwin fans. Having you with us at a family dinner would be an honor.”
“Right,” Cass said, willing her smile to stay in place the way she had learned to do during her time in L.A., pretending to be her sister while the cameras rolled—no matter what she was feeling inside. “Well, how can I say no to that?”
His handsome grin was back, and those dimples that made her pu
lse quicken every time they appeared. It was so effortless, the way he took her face in his hands and kissed her like he had earlier. It was as if they had known each other for much longer than just a few days, as if they somehow had a future together as bright as the California sun.
“This is going to be fun. You can follow me in your car. It’s not too far from here; their place is in Malibu. You’re okay with showering and changing there, in their pool house? My parents won’t mind at all.”
Cass felt dazed. “Sure,” she said. “I brought a change of clothes.”
“Alright, then, let’s go.”
* * *
• • •
Cass pulled in front of his parents’ low-slung, sprawling beach house. It was lovely, but unpretentious, with warm light flowing from the many windows. Miguel was already standing outside her car door by the time she opened it and got out, holding her day bag in hand. He seemed eager and excited, like a handsome, charming puppy.
“Wow,” Cass breathed, surveying the grounds. There were gardens everywhere, obviously well cared for by an expert gardener. A path ahead led to a pool with an infinity drop-off facing the ocean. “This place is gorgeous.”
“Yeah, it really is. One of my favorite places in the world.”
“I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“Really? I just assumed you went to tons of Hollywood parties and saw places way more impressive than this all the time.”
“Those kinds of parties aren’t really me,” Cass said—although she had always imagined her sister’s life involved a lot of glamour.
“You’re not at all what I expected, Charlie. Watching you on TV, I just always assumed you were—well, a lot less down-to-earth than you are.” He took her hand and started leading her toward the pool’s gate.
“I’m not really L.A. at heart. I’m from a small town.”
“That’s right. Starlight Peak. I’ve skied at the resort near there a few times—great mountain.”
“Me, too,” Cass said with a longing sigh. “I love snowboarding there.”
“Maybe you can give me a snowboarding lesson in return for the surf lessons.” He had no idea how much she wished for both things to come true. As he lifted the latch of the gate and opened it, Cass took in the perfectly manicured poolside yard. Miguel pointed to a cedar cabana a few steps away.
“There’s a shower in there, towels, everything you need. Now, I have to go prepare everyone for the fact that you’re here.”
“It’s not going to be a problem, is it? I really don’t want to impose.”
“It’s going to be the opposite of a problem. They’re going to be so excited to have you they’ll need a little time to calm down or they’re going to completely weird you out. Plus, my dad always cooks enough for a crowd. Just come up to the house when you’re done.”
* * *
• • •
Twenty minutes later, Cass lingered at the sliding door leading to the kitchen, showered and changed, her still-damp hair drying in natural dark blond waves down her back. Feeling suddenly shy, she almost backed away into the shadows.
But then a voice called out, “Here she is.” Miguel’s sister, Jacintha, had been standing at the kitchen island chopping herbs but now she rushed over to the screen door and slid it open, welcoming Cass inside. Miguel had been pulling place mats and napkins out of a drawer but he abandoned the task to make introductions: his parents, Essie and Javier; his brother, Romero (who went by Ro); Ro’s partner, Anna; Jacintha’s wife, Lila—who was, by her own admission, massively and delightedly pregnant.
“And Ro and Anna’s kids are around here somewhere—twins, Lulu and Ava. Charlie is a twin, too.”
“No kidding!” Anna said with a smile as she chopped vegetables. “Well, our twins are in the side garden, picking chives . . . But they’ve been gone awhile so I should probably go check they haven’t decided to dig up the entire garden.”
Essie shook her fist in mock anger. “They’d better not be,” she called after Anna, then turned to smile at Cass—revealing where Miguel had inherited his endearing dimples from. “Those two are always up to something,” she said. “They keep us on our toes. You must know what that’s like, right? Double the trouble, those two. Now, I’ve just opened a bottle of cava. Can I get you a glass?”
“She doesn’t drink, Mom,” said Jacintha. “Sorry—is it weird that I know that? I read a Q&A with you in People.”
“Oh no, it’s not weird, it’s just—”
“Not true,” Miguel said, handing her a glass of cava. “You should know better than to read those magazines; everything is made up.”
Thankfully, there were no blips after that. Once Cass got used to the chaos—including the twins running into the kitchen with handfuls of lavender, not chives, and clumps of dirt falling all over the floor, to which the adults reacted calmly, cleaning up the mess while Javier accompanied the kids back outside to find their true quarry—she felt like she fit right in.
Essie asked her to help brown the butter for a béchamel, and they carried platters to the table along with everyone else. They were a warm and welcoming clan, and she felt like one of them by the time the sun set over the ocean and they had scraped their plates clean of a delicious linguine with seared scallops and buttery clams, plus a fresh salad redolent with the variety of fresh herbs the twins ended up procuring in the end—none of them chives, it turned out.
“Can you believe it, Charlie, Miguel is our black sheep—the only one who isn’t a doctor?” Jacintha said.
“The only one of us who actually has a life,” Ro added, standing to begin clearing plates, while Anna chased after the twins. He waved Lila away and told her to sit back down and rest when she tried to assist with the table-clearing. Cass stood and picked up an empty platter.
“No, no,” Javier said. “You stay here. Participants in the recipe challenge aren’t allowed to see the ingredients in the staging area.”
“Oh no,” Miguel said, putting his palm to his face. “You said you wouldn’t.”
“What I said and what I intended to do were two different things, son. We have the honor of hosting Charlie Goodwin at our home today—and if you think that means we are going to cancel the Sunday bake-off . . . Well, that’s just crazy. Isn’t it, Charlie?”
Cass was laughing. “Miguel told me about these bake-offs. I’d be happy to participate. How does it work?”
Javier rubbed his hands together. “Two teams, one prize,” he said, as if he were a television announcer.
“Oh yeah, Dad? What’s the prize?” Miguel was rolling his eyes good-naturedly.
“Bragging rights,” Javier intoned, still in a faux-deep voice. The teams were formed: Cass, Miguel, and Essie on one; Jacintha, Ro, and Javier on the other. Anna and Lila opted to watch the twins swim instead—but said they’d be very happy to judge the finished products.
Competition was fierce, and Cass couldn’t remember the last time she laughed so much. By the time she and her team had plated their simple fresh fruit mini crepes with lemon crema—one of the rules was that no dessert could take longer than forty-five minutes to create—her sides hurt from laughing. Jacintha, Ro, and Javier had gone with a chocolate chili mousse. Everything was carried out to the table on the deck for judging. In the end, the twins declared the mousse the winner, “Because chocolate is always best.”
“Sorry, Charlie, better luck next time. We’ll have a rematch when you join us for dinner again,” Javier said, standing to get another bottle of sparkling water. He caught her eye. “Which I hope will be soon.” She smiled back at him.
“I hope so, too,” she said. It had been easy to forget, amid all the laughter, conversation, cooking, and chaos, that this was just going to be a one-off and she wasn’t going to see Miguel’s family again. She stood and picked up some of the dirty glasses.
“You’re our guest
, you don’t have to help clean,” Essie said.
“I insist,” Cass said. “I made most of that mess in the kitchen.”
“It’s true, she’s a lot messier than they make it look on television,” Javier said, and everyone laughed, including Cass. They all made short work of the dishes, and someone suggested espresso, which they took out to the pool so they could watch the twins have “Please, just one last swim.”
It was late by the time they said their goodbyes, and Cass was exhausted—but in a good way. It had been a perfect day, from start to finish.
Cass and Miguel stood in the driveway, between their cars. Ro and Anna had taken the twins home—they had fallen asleep, exhausted and waterlogged, before they were even buckled into their car seats. Jacintha and Lila were still inside, emptying the dishwasher. “I think my parents are watching us out the window,” Miguel said, chuckling. “I’m sorry—I hope this wasn’t overwhelming for you.”
“Not at all,” Cass said. “I loved every second of it. I could do this every Sunday.” Her voice broke and she hoped Miguel hadn’t noticed. But of course he had. He was Miguel. He noticed everything about her.
He stepped closer. “Hey, what’s wrong? You look so sad all of a sudden.”
“I’m just”—Cass swallowed hard over the lump in her throat. She shook her head. “I think I’m just tired. Honestly, I had a great night. It’s just . . .” She didn’t know how to finish the sentence, but Miguel finished it for her.
“It’s just a lot for you right now. I should have realized that. You keep telling me you’re fine, but injuries like yours take time. And this was a long day.”
“I wouldn’t trade any of it for the world,” Cass said. “But, I really should get going. Early call time tomorrow.”
“Of course,” Miguel said, then glanced at the front window of the house. “Good—they’re gone.” He leaned in and kissed her, slowly and sweetly. And for a moment at least, Cass felt all the sadness and anxiety drain from her body.