Ripped

by Cassia Leo

  Before I even read her description, I get a knot in my throat. Her drawing is of a blue ocean wave with a blond-haired man on a surfboard. I find it both funny and adorable that she made me blond. The description under the drawing says: “When I grow up, I want to be famous for doing something I love.” I think of my mom’s words to me not so long ago. You won’t be a good father, or a good example, to your daughters if you’re miserable.

  “Do you like it?” Kaia asks tentatively.

  “No, baby, I don’t like it,” I reply, and her face falls. “I love it. It’s perfect.”

  She laughs as I pick her up in my arms and squeeze her tightly. “Okay, Daddy. That’s enough, you’re embarrassing me.”

  I laugh as I set her down on the floor, grabbing her hand before we head back outside into the rain. “You know what’s embarrassing?”

  “What?” she says, flinching when a drop of rain lands on her cheek as she looks up at me.

  I deactivate the car alarm as we near the truck. “I was expecting a really important phone call last night, so I slept with my phone under my pillow,” I reply, reaching up to pinch her chin so I can take a look at her missing tooth as I finish the joke. “When I woke up, my phone was gone. Darn that Bluetooth fairy.”

  She narrows her eyes at me, trying not to laugh, but she can’t hold it in. “That’s a bad joke, Dad. I know the tooth fairy is just you and Mommy.”

  I gasp at her accusation as I open the passenger door for her. “What? That’s nonsense. The tooth fairy is very much real. Just as real as the Bluetooth fairy.”

  We arrive at the house to find Lillian fixing Mila something to eat in the kitchen. Kaia heads upstairs to do her homework in her bedroom and I set off to the new master bedroom to find Lindsay. When I enter, she’s lying in bed on her side with her back to the door. As I approach, I realize she’s reading something on her iPad. I lie next to her on the bed, but I nearly jump out of my skin when Finn comes walking out of the bathroom.

  “Oh, sorry, man,” he says when he sees my startled expression. “I’m just cleaning up. I’ll be out of your hair in a few minutes.”

  As soon as he’s gone, I glance over at Lindsay, but she’s still engrossed in whatever she’s reading on her tablet. “Have you been in the room with him the whole time?”

  “Are you talking to me?” she asks as she turns a page on her eBook.

  “Who else would I be talking to? Yes, I’m talking to you.”

  She’s silent for a moment as she presumably finishes reading whatever passage she’s on, then she slowly turns her head to look at me. “Yes, while you were gone all day, I’ve been in here resting and answering Finn’s questions while my mom has been out there taking care of Mila.”

  The idea of her being alone in our bedroom with another man all day long makes my blood boil. “You were answering his questions? How the fuck were you answering his questions without me? You don’t know anything about construction.”

  She turns over carefully onto her other side to face me. “What are you accusing me of, Adam? Because you’re the one who’s never home anymore. What the fuck are you doing out there, huh?”

  “You’re the one who cheated on me!”

  “Ten years ago!”

  “Ten years, ten hours. It’s all the fucking same to me.”

  Her lip trembles as she attempts to hold back tears. “Get out.”

  “Oh, what? Now you’re kicking me out of the bedroom again? Is that so you can fuck Finn in private?”

  “Are you fucking kidding me? I’m almost eight fucking months pregnant. Do you really think anyone on this planet, other than you, would want to have sex with me right now? I’m a whale!”

  I shake my head. “You’re not a fucking whale. You’re gorgeous. Did you see the way that motherfucker was looking at you before I took Kaia to school this morning?”

  She curls up and closes her eyes as she starts to cry. “I’m huge. Even you didn’t want to have sex with me last night. I hate the way I look. I can’t even eat. I make myself sick.”

  “Have you eaten today?”

  She opens her eyes, but she doesn’t look at me or answer my question.

  “Lindsay, you have to eat when you’re pregnant.” I lie down on my side, propping myself up on one elbow as I lift her chin up. “Baby, you’re fucking gorgeous right now, and that’s no bullshit. I didn’t want to have sex last night because I was afraid I was hurting the babies, but you better believe I jerked it in the guest bathroom while thinking about you.”

  She smiles reluctantly. “You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”

  “I’m not lying. I stood over the toilet, one hand on the wall and the other stroking my soldier as I imagined pounding you from behind. Do you know how much I love the way your ass looks right now? When I think about your booty, I immediately think of an onion.”

  This time she laughs. “What the hell does that mean?”

  “It means that your ass reminds me of an onion, because it’s so fresh it makes me cry.”

  She shakes her head. “Did you seriously just call my ass fresh?”

  I nod as I brush a piece of hair out of her face. “As fresh as my jokes. Now that’s fresh.”

  She closes her eyes as I plant a kiss on her forehead. “I think we should talk about—”

  Lindsay’s interrupted by a knock on the open bedroom door.

  “Is it okay if I just grab my tools?” Finn asks.

  I sit up, stroking Lindsay’s hair as I reply, “Yeah, go ahead.”

  She turns over and begins reading her book again. Once Finn is gone, I consider asking her what she wants to talk about, but I have a feeling she wants to discuss my retirement. And I definitely don’t want to talk about that. Especially not after the experience I had with Kaia today, an experience that won’t mean anything to Lindsay because she wasn’t there.

  We both go through the motions, having dinner with Lillian and the kids, speaking to each other when necessary. I excuse Lillian to go home after dinner, then I do the dinner dishes and get the girls ready for bed while Lindsay takes a shower. By the time Kaia’s asleep and I lie down next to Lindsay again, her eyes are closed, but I can tell she’s still awake by the way her toes move under the covers. She has a weird habit of curling and uncurling her toes when she’s trying to fall asleep.

  I turn off the bedside lamp and fold my arm around her waist. “Good night, baby.”

  She doesn’t reply.

  Fourteen

  The film crew arrives at nine a.m. to get set up for the Surfline interview. I sit on the sofa in the living room, watching as they set up a half-dozen lights, changing the filters about a million different times. With Lindsay due in fifteen days, the last thing she wants to do right now is be filmed for a surfing interview, so she and the girls went to Lillian’s house. She’ll probably relax inside while Lillian takes the girls to the beach.

  Effie Vanderbeek, the journalist who contacted me about doing the interview for Surfline magazine, is sitting across from me, skimming through her notes. She assured me they don’t really need Lindsay here for the interview. They just thought it would be nice since there are rumors flying around that I’ll be retiring after this year’s tour to spend more time with my family.

  I don’t bother asking her where she heard those rumors. That kind of gossip spreads around the community fast whenever a surfer gets married or has kids. And with photographers following Lindsay and me around a lot more over the past few weeks, photographing us on our way to and from her doctor appointments, it’s only natural for people to deduce that she’s carrying more than one bun in the oven.

  What I haven’t decided is whether I’m going to confirm the rumors. I’ve kept the peace with Lindsay over the past few weeks by assuring her that I’ve spoken with Andy and my other sponsors about the possibility of retirement, but we haven’t decided on an exit strategy yet. The truth is that I’ve only hinted to Andy that I might have to retire soon, though I’m pretty ce
rtain he took that to mean in a few years.

  When all the cameras, dollies, lighting, and microphones are set up, they begin rolling tape on the interview and my throat feels as if it’s going to close up.

  Effie smiles as she rests her perfectly manicured hands on her knee and crosses her legs. “Adam, what a whirlwind tour this has been for you,” she begins. “Did you have any clue, back in January when you took to the water in the first heat in Gold Coast, that you would do this well?”

  I shake my head. “I had no clue. I’ve been fighting my way to the top for years. Finished sixth two years ago, twelfth last year… I guess it was just my time.”

  “Well, you’re being kind of modest now, aren’t you? You were in the top ten three years ago as well. And two years ago, you were ranked fourth during most of the championship tour, until your daughter was born. Am I right?”

  I grit my teeth and smile at this question. “Well, it wasn’t my daughter’s birth that made me lose rank. It was my decision to skip Peniche that did me in.”

  She cocks an eyebrow at this response. “But you skipped Peniche to be with your pregnant wife, correct?”

  I draw in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Yeah, she needed me. Sometimes, there are…” My mouth goes dry as I realize I can’t say the words aloud. I can’t say there are more important things than surfing. “Family comes first, you know?”

  She leans forward. “But what about the fans? What about the thrill? Do you think you’ll miss that when you retire?”

  I glance at the director and make a timeout signal. “What’s going on here? I never said I was retiring.”

  The director looks confused. “Well, everyone retires at some point. I don’t think she was implying you’re retiring soon.”

  I look to Effie for confirmation and she raises her eyebrows. “I need you to clarify that in your question. I have sponsors who will want that clarified.”

  She nods. “Absolutely.” She motions to the camera man to roll tape, then she leans forward again the way she was before I interrupted. “Adam, there are rumors flying all over Facebook and the blogosphere. People are in an uproar over the possibility that you may be considering retirement. Is there any truth to these rumors, or is it just a bunch of hogwash, as Pete Hillman of Channel Islands Surfboards, one of your biggest sponsors, has said?”

  I clear my throat to try to stall for time, but I feel the fiery panic rising inside me along with the bile in my stomach. “I’m… I’m not retiring,” I reply. “The rumors are just that, rumors.” I turn back to the director. “Can we change the subject?”

  He shoots Effie a look and she moves on to asking me about my diet and training regimen. She finishes up by asking if I have any advice for the young surfers coming up after me, and once again I go blank.

  After a brief pause, I reply, “Learn how to fail gracefully, then get up and try again.”

  An hour-long photo shoot follows the interview. I cringe inside when the photographer asks me to take a bunch of cheesy photos in the backyard and in the workshop standing next to Ripped. After the shoot, the crew packs away their gear into the two vans they showed up in.

  Effie meets me at the front door to say good-bye. “Sorry if any of that made you uncomfortable. We were just trying to ask what the fans want to know. They’re gonna miss you, you know, if you do retire.” She smiles and pats my arm. “Take care, Adam.”

  As I watch her get into the van, I think of the suspension hearing where Brad Wilson came to my aid as a character witness when the disciplinary committee was conducting their investigation into the incident with Carlos at the hotel in Peniche. I didn’t fight my way to the top all year to get suspended before the final event. And I sure as fuck didn’t train for twenty years just to retire when I’m at the top of my game. All I can think as I watch Effie’s van drive off is how much I want to get high.

  * * *

  I knock on Yuri’s door and I’m not surprised when Lena answers, but I am surprised to see her in a bikini. “Are you going to the beach?” I ask.

  She looks at me like I’m crazy. “At six o’clock in the evening in December? Do you think I want to get bit by another shark?”

  I laugh, stepping inside as she holds the door open for me. “So you just walk around the house in a bikini all day, or what?”

  “I’m trying on some new suits.” She closes the door behind me. “Go ahead and have a seat. I’ll go get some clothes on.”

  “Where’s Yuri?” I call out as she disappears into the hallway.

  “He’s still at the shop!” she shouts back. “Doing inventory. He’ll be back late tonight.”

  I take a seat on the brown leather sofa in their living room, smiling when I see the grinder and Lena’s vape pen on the coffee table. She’s way ahead of me.

  She walks in wearing a Billabong T-shirt and some gray leggings. “How’d the interview go?” she asks, grabbing the TV remote as she takes a seat next to me on the sofa.

  I lean back and run my hand through the four-inch mop of hair on my head. “Terrible. I had to ask them to change the subject twice because of the retirement questions.”

  She waves this off as she reaches for her vape pen. “Every surfer over the age of thirty deals with the same questions when they hit top ten. Don’t let it get to you. Just keep shutting them up by winning titles.”

  I shake my head. “No, you don’t get it. The rumors are true. Lindsay asked me to quit after this tour.”

  Lena cocks an eyebrow as she tucks a nugget into the end of the vaporizer. “You’re retiring?”

  I lean forward so I can look her straight in the eye. She’s my trainer and, technically, she works for me. I can’t be a prick. I have to be honest with her.

  “I don’t want to retire, but I don’t see any other way. I can’t leave Lindsay for weeks at a time while I’m on tour.” I glance at the vape pen in her hand, then back up at her. “And Kaia’s doing so well at this new school. She won this contest a few weeks ago. She had to draw a picture of what she wanted to be when she grew up.”

  Lena smiles. “Aw… what did my girl draw?”

  “She drew a picture of me surfing, and under the description she wrote that when she grows up she wants to be famous for doing something she loves, just like me.” I look Lena in the eye and her face softens when she hears this story. “I can’t retire, Lena. I can’t let my little girl down. I can’t let myself down. Especially if I come in second this year. If I quit right after that, I’ll always wonder, ‘What if?’”

  Lena nods. “You have to tell Lindsay. You two have to come to a compromise. Like, maybe you can take a year or two off, or maybe you’ll quit in a few years. There’s gotta be a way for you both to get what you want. That’s what marriage is about, right? Compromise?”

  I smile at this. “Have you talked to Yuri about having kids yet? Have you two come up with a compromise?”

  “Yuri and I aren’t married.”

  “Lena, you have to be able to follow the advice you dish out.”

  She rolls her eyes. “Maybe we should just get high.”

  I laugh as I reach for the vaporizer. “Give me that.”

  She pulls her hand back so I can’t reach it. “I was just kidding,” she replies. “You can’t toke. You told me not to let you toke.”

  “I changed the rules. Give it to me,” I say as she hides the pen behind her back. “Don’t make me fight you for it. I’m pretty good at wrestling girls. I’ve even let a few of them beat me.”

  “How gentlemanly,” she replies, laughing as she tries to stuff the pen between the cushions.

  I reach behind her, jamming my hand under the cushion and digging around. “Where’d you put it?”

  She laughs uncontrollably as she pulls her hand out from behind her back, revealing that the pen is still in her hand. “It’s right here.”

  I reach for the vaporizer, but I lose my balance and end up falling on top of her. I quickly pull myself up with one hand on the cushion
and one on the arm of the sofa. When I right myself, my face is hovering just inches above hers. Her smile fades as I look into her eyes.

  The front door opens, and I’ve never moved so fast in my life. I try to stand up and appear as though everything is normal, but the look on Yuri’s face tells me that either I didn’t stand up fast enough, or the look on my face tells him everything he needs to know.

  “What the fuck is going on here?” he says, his voice an octave higher than normal.

  “Dude, nothing’s going on. Lena was just trying to keep me from smoking. She was just trying to be a good friend.”

  Yuri looks even more confused and angry with this response. “Trying to be a good friend? Is that what you call making out with my girlfriend?”

  I laugh for a split second, before I realize this is a bad time for laughter. “Bro, you could not be further from the truth. We were nowhere in the vicinity of making out. I literally was trying to take the vaporizer from her hand when you walked in. That’s it. Right, Lena?” I turn to Lena and she looks horrified as she leans forward and places the pen on the coffee table. “Tell him, Lena.”

  Lena stands up. “It was nothing,” Lena assures Yuri as she makes her way toward him. “It’s like Adam said. He was just trying to get the pen out of my grasp and, yeah, there was kind of an awkward moment, but nothing.”

  I close my eyes and let out a deep breath through my nose as she reveals this information. I know it’s the truth, but Yuri probably would have believed her if she had left the “awkward moment” part out.

  Jesus Christ. What the fuck is wrong with me?

  “An awkward moment?” Yuri repeats Lena’s words. “What the fuck does that mean? Did you kiss him? Did you kiss my best friend?”

  “No!” Lena shouts, pressing her hands against his chest as it begins to look like he’s ready to charge me. “No, I did not kiss him. Nothing happened.”

  “It sure didn’t fucking look like nothing from where I was standing outside that window!” Yuri says, pointing at the front window that looks into the living room. He turns to me with cold fury in his eyes. “Get the fuck out of my house.”