Out of the Blue

by Kathryn Nolan

  He’d been to this beach many times with his father.

  We parked in the back left of the sandy, palm-tree-lined lot in front of a sign that said Reserved for Competitor Serena Swift. Once the engine was off, he did a quick scan of our surrounding environment before turning to face me again.

  “Revealing a company’s misdeeds takes a lot of planning and courage,” Cope said. “Whistleblowers have ended up fired, threatened, forced into hiding.” He picked up my phone, glared at the message there. “Some have ended up dead. When Jeffrey Wigand went on 60 Minutes in the nineties to expose the secret that the tobacco company he worked for was knowingly making their cigarettes more addictive, he was fired, publicly discredited, and harassed. He received death threats. The reason Quentin and I are taking this so seriously is because there’s precedent to do so.”

  I could see surfers gathering on the beach, boards flashing in the air like colorful flowers. I needed to get my head back in the game. And then I needed to go represent a company that was maybe nothing but a cleverly constructed lie.

  “I can’t believe this is happening,” I said, still stunned.

  “Not every publicly ethical company is ethical behind closed doors,” he said. “I don’t want to think it either, trust me. But there’s enough evidence and enough of a threat now to be on alert.”

  My heart pounded so hard I could feel the echo in my fingertips. That only happened when I went over the lip of a wave, although this adrenaline wasn’t the positive kind. It was the fight-or-flight kind.

  “Is this…” I swallowed. “Is this why I can’t tell anyone?”

  “Yes. Do not tell your brother. Do not tell Dora or your friends. If they’re focusing on making you feel scared, they will use any option available to them to get you to return the information they believe you stole.”

  I scrubbed a hand down my face but nodded, a sick sensation in the pit of my stomach. “Okay, I get it,” I said. “We need to protect them. Will you tell Falco and your boss?”

  He was quiet for a moment. “I don’t think so. Yet. For the same reason you shouldn’t tell anyone either. We don’t know what they’re capable of, and I don’t want to risk their safety. But…” He rubbed the back of his neck. “But I can’t have Falco out there at night thinking everything is fine either. That puts him in danger—puts you in danger too. I’ll figure out a way to express my concerns for your safety while shielding him from the other stuff.”

  I stared out the window at the familiar and happy scenery all around us. How could I be showing up for my first elite competition while all of this was happening?

  “We will get through this together,” Cope said. “I will do everything in my power to keep you safe, Serena.”

  There was a husky familiarity in that last sentence that had me leaning closer to my ex-husband. Given both our personalities, fighting a common villain together was practically romantic.

  “Why give the information to me though?” I asked with a shrug. “I have absolutely nothing to offer this situation in any way.”

  “I don’t think you realize the influence that you have,” he said quietly. “I know the awful shit that’s said to you out there, but you have more supporters than detractors. You’re strong and outspoken; you believe in doing what’s right. You’re a professional athlete with money and a platform.”

  Thinking that Catalina had trusted me—a complete stranger—to do the right thing was a weight I didn’t think I could carry. Because I didn’t believe I had earned it. Although hadn’t I worked hard to gain a platform for issues like this one? No matter what we uncovered, Catalina had risked her job and safety to pass along information that revealed this company was committing harm against people or the planet. Or both.

  “Well,” I said with a humorless laugh. “I have always wanted the ability to speak out on the issues that matter the most.”

  “And I told Marilyn that my last assignment was boring. Seems like both our wishes are coming true.”

  Our eyes met and held for a beat too long, betraying the other, much more complicated wishes we had.

  “We should get going,” I said quickly, putting on my sunglasses and tightening my ponytail. I pushed open the door and stepped out onto sand and asphalt. The rich thunder of the waves just over the dune reminded me of the other scary things I needed to do today.

  My water bottle fell through my fingers. Then my bag, scattering food and my wallet. When I stood back up, I knocked my sunglasses off my nose, and they went flying. But Cope was right beside me. He snatched them from the air before they could fall, then opened his palm so I could retrieve them.

  He gently touched the sides of my arms, adjusting my position until we were facing each other.

  “Shut your eyes,” he said softly.

  I did, used to following this command of his. His hands slid onto my shoulders. They squeezed, focusing my attention on every point of contact between his fingers and my skin.

  “Breathe with me, okay?” There was no patronizing sympathy in his tone. Only empathy. So I did the next part of this pre-competition tradition of ours: reached up and gripped his wrists, creating a neat square of our arms around me. His pulse beat swiftly against my thumbs.

  “Okay,” I finally said.

  “Inhale for four… three… two…” He trailed off on one. Together, we held our breath for four counts. “Now, exhale for four… three… two…”

  The tips of his thumbs stroked lightly across my collarbone.

  “Again,” he said.

  We inhaled as one. Held our breath. Exhaled as one. Even with my eyes closed, my body was keenly aware of his tempting closeness. The agonizing nearness of his lips. If I pressed up onto my toes, we’d be kissing.

  Our inhales and exhales came evenly, tangled together. My wild thoughts lost some of their jagged points. The nerves in my stomach settled. I recalled the years of my training—every wave and wipeout a teacher. I understood the rhythm of those tides, the patterns of each set, all the intricacies of the ocean.

  I knew her. She knew me.

  With one final, beautiful breath, my eyes flew open. I still gripped his wrists. His fingers were gently working on the knots in my neck, right where I always needed a little extra pressure.

  “Does this feel good?” His voice was rough, blue eyes darker.

  “Very good,” I whispered back.

  “How do those lungs feel? Any tightness? Anything sore?”

  I inhaled sharply through my nose, picturing my lungs expanding like the sunrise over a canyon, bold and bright.

  “No pinching,” I reported. “No tightness. No coughing.”

  “Fingers? Toes?”

  “All ten accounted for.”

  “Arms and legs loose?”

  He released me with a crooked grin on his face as I shook my body out like a wet dog. I bounced on my toes, felt my heart rate pick up in response to my carefree movement.

  “Loose. Strong. Ready.”

  Gently, so gently, he swiped his thumb across the center of my forehead. “And in here?”

  “Calm,” I said. “Thanks to you.”

  He stepped back and let me go. “Who’s going to win today, Serena?”

  His question shocked a happy, relieved smile onto my face. “I am, of course.”

  18

  Cope

  Serena’s turn was up in twenty minutes.

  She stood with a group of women surfers, all of them cheering for Malia Kim who, based on the crowd’s reaction, must have been tearing up some massive waves. Serena appeared loose and relaxed with her friends, and I was grateful for it. No matter what was going on in the background with Aerial, I didn’t want any of it to affect the concentration she needed to stay safe out there.

  I stood right behind her, sweating under the sun, attempting to ignore the sound of the waves shaking the sand beneath my shiny loafers. The air was heavy with music and the smell of sunscreen, thick with fear and euphoria, nerves and elation. Between the crowd�
��s applause and the roars of the jet skis, it was sensory overload.

  Yet the only thing I cared about was Serena, the eye of the storm. In between cheers, she studied the water like it spoke a language only she could decipher.

  Being back at a surf competition had me battling two different types of nostalgia—the memories of being here with my mom and sister as my dad competed. And the two years I was with Serena, where I tried to make it to as many as I could even though my feelings about them were complicated. But if I skipped them, or couldn’t get out of an assignment, I spent those hours clenching my fists so hard in apprehension I carved half-moons into my palms.

  Off to the left, I noticed two Aerial employees struggling to unfurl a giant banner with the company’s logo on it. Press was out in numbers, and the Lattimore brothers had already given a speech when we first arrived. The threat that Serena received on her phone had me suspicious of every person who dared to look at my wife as they walked past—but my protective instincts tripled whenever Dave or Marty jogged into view.

  I’d already texted Quentin about the threatening message. He had responded with a quick and poetic Fuck.

  Murmurs of excitement and awe had broken out when Serena stepped onto the beach carrying her board over her head. Dave and Marty had left her alone so far, only waving as she walked past and yelling out, “Good luck today!” I didn’t want them in her head any more than I knew they already were. Even now I caught her sneaking glances at them when she thought I wasn’t paying attention.

  With a few hugs and one last cheer, Serena stepped back from her friends and began tugging on her life vest and braiding her hair back. I shifted my feet in the sand, cleared my throat to get her attention. “Who’s going to win today?”

  A smile flickered across her face. “I am.”

  The tiniest gestures, the most minor traditions, had meant so much to her when we were together. I always suspected it was because her childhood was absent a lot of those things. No one was scrawling have fun at school today! on the napkins in her lunch box.

  “Those waves are probably shitting themselves right now,” I said. “They’re all like, ‘Serena Swift is coming? You guys better watch out.’”

  She yanked a thin but sturdy surfer’s helmet down over her hair and fastened it under her chin. “Anyone ever tell you that you do a pretty good impression of ocean waves?”

  I shrugged, squinted off into the distance. “Face, hair, body, cartoon impressions. I’m the full package.”

  She laughed, shaking her head. I was tempted to brush away the strand of hair blowing across her face. But then I caught sight of a tall man with blond hair walking over to us.

  “Uh, Serena?” I tugged at my too-tight collar. “Is your brother coming today?”

  Her eyes widened. “Wait… you see Caleb?”

  I nodded at the upstanding member of society wearing a white polo shirt and khaki pants, looking like he’d stepped off a magazine called Hotties of the Coast Guard.

  He held his arms wide as he got close to us. “I’m surprising you!”

  “Cale.” She punched his arm with excited laughter before he gave her a bear hug. “I’m so happy to see you.”

  “I’m off duty on a weekend for the first time in months, so I thought I’d see if I could catch your heat,” he said. “And is this the bodyguard Aerial gave you?”

  Serena bit her lip. “About that…”

  Caleb turned, hand outstretched. “Caleb Swift. I’m—” He paused, shoved his sunglasses up into his hair. “Copeland?”

  I held up my palms. “Before you punch me, I’m only here in a professional capacity as your sister’s protection agent. I didn’t—”

  But my ex-wife’s older brother—once, one of my closest friends—didn’t rear back and sucker punch me as I’d expected.

  He pulled me in for a bear hug too.

  “Um,” I said, flustered. He let me go and gave his sister a blatantly bemused expression. She dropped to the sand to give her board one last wipe-down.

  “You failed to mention that Cope was the bodyguard assigned to you,” he said.

  “Eh, I’ve been busy.” She waved at the ocean. “Doing things.”

  “One text,” he said dryly. “Oh hey, big news. Cope is my bodyguard. Ten seconds, max.”

  If I thought being at a competition again was bad, watching Serena bullshit with her brother was like being forcibly shoved back in time. There were too many painful aspects to our relationship to name, but the splitting up of our found family was one of them. For two years, Serena and her brother were as prevalent at my mother’s dinner table as Quentin was. And then Dora. Once my mother discovered how Serena and her brother had escaped their parents, she made it a point to include them in holidays and weekend barbecues. After we broke up, there had been no animosity towards Serena by my family.

  It appeared the same was true for Serena, based on Dora and Caleb’s reactions.

  “I appreciate you not punching my lights out just now,” I said.

  He grinned. “There’s still time, buddy.”

  “I’ll prepare my face.”

  We were spared an awkward segue by Serena’s friend Prue running up to meet us. “Hey, Caleb, hey, Cope,” she said, before turning to Serena. “Fun news. I’m towing you—” She paused, turned back to me, jaw dropped open. I gave her a sheepish shrug.

  “Little bit of fun news,” Serena repeated, “Aerial wanted to put security on me, and as bad luck would have it, it was Cope.”

  “Holy shit.” Prue pointed between the two of us. “Okay, all of this, is getting a deep-dive after you surf. But it’s your time, babe. They’re calling it in a second, and I’m towing you.”

  Serena hugged her with a grateful smile. “Thank god. And thank you.”

  Prue squeezed her hand. “You’ve got this. Look, your cheer squad is over there, waiting for you to kick ass.”

  I followed her gaze to the group of women holding various Go Serena signs. I recognized Prue’s wife, Kalei, and a few other surfers that had just been cheering for Malia. Prue wrapped her arm around Serena’s shoulders and squeezed.

  “I know you’re nervous,” she said. “But I’m your tow today, and we’re gonna crush it.”

  Serena’s beautiful eyes found mine. I winked at her. “Good luck,” I said. Caleb gave her a series of high fives until she was laughing.

  “Okay, okay, I’m ready to do the damn thing.”

  Prue checked her safety gear one last time, and then my wife was running into the ocean toward the jet ski.

  The audience roared in response. An announcer called Serena’s name. Each competitor had twenty minutes of total surf time. Their scores were based on the quality of waves they caught, so each heat wound up being a very delicate combination of skill, courage, opportunity, and random chance.

  Caleb and I stood shoulder to shoulder, but the moment her feet hit the waves, I glued my focus to the sand.

  “Can I ask if Serena’s in any real danger here? Or is Aerial just being extra cautious?” Caleb said.

  We know you have it.

  “She’s in no real danger,” I said, feeling uneasy with the lie, even though it was only to keep him safe. “There’s someone posted at her house at night, and then I’m with her during the day. It’s so calm it’s practically boring.”

  I glanced sideways at Caleb, who was nodding in appreciation. “Glad to hear it. And I hope it’s not awkward to say that I’m glad it’s you. I trust you.”

  My eyebrows shot up. “Still?”

  “Yeah, still. I won’t ever speak for my sister, so I’ll speak for myself. I know your breakup was complicated, but I also know you do not have a malicious bone in your body. It’s not my place, not really, but between you and me…” He slapped me square in the back. “I’ve really missed you, buddy. I didn’t think I’d ever see you again, but I always hoped I would.”

  “Are you trying to lull me into a false sense of complacency before really punching me in the face
?” I asked.

  Caleb shrugged. “Only time will tell, I guess.”

  I laughed, shaking my head. I didn’t think about the complications of what we’d learned last night or the very real distraction of my feelings for Serena. I just told my friend the truth.

  “I’ve really missed you too,” I said. “Really missed you. Quentin has too.”

  “Well,” Caleb said, indicating the ocean. “Maybe after… I don’t know. We’ll see?”

  There was a sincere optimism in his voice that made my chest ache. “I like the sound of that.”

  The hum of the jet ski tore through the crowd, and I could hear murmuring and movement around us, all the signs of anticipation. I took a step back from Caleb to examine the parking lot, spy on the Lattimore brothers, and scope out anything suspicious. When I turned back, I glued my eyes back to the sand again.

  Caleb nudged my arm. “You still do that, huh?”

  “What?” I asked casually.

  “Watch the sand and not Serena when she surfs?”

  I pushed my sunglasses up to look at Caleb, surprised. “You know?”

  His expression was filled with empathy. “I noticed you doing it the few times we’ve watched her compete together.”

  I winced. “It’s a bad habit I can’t break.”

  “Given what happened to your dad,” he said. “I’d say it makes sense to me. You don’t want to be watching if the worst happens, right?”

  He was exactly right. Not once in the two years and hundreds of times I’d been on the beach while Serena was in the water, did I ever watch her surf. The crowd’s reaction told me when she did well, and even though I didn’t watch her, it still made me prouder than anything to hear strangers chant her name. It was only later, when she was safe in my arms again, that I could watch the videos of her taped performances.

  Knowing the outcome made it a hell of a lot easier.

  It never stopped me from wondering if I was missing something vital though, shielding myself from a crucial element of Serena herself. And she never knew that I watched the sand instead of her. Revealing it felt like a betrayal.