by Cassia Leo
“Now, don’t get your hopes up just yet. I’ll call you back and let you know what the girls have to say. Bye now.”
I lean back again and the corners of my eyes sting with tears as I think about the day Kaia was born in Hawaii more than ten years ago. I wasn’t certain if she was my daughter or not, because Lindsay was cheating on me with Nathan when she got pregnant. But there’s not a day that goes by that I don’t wish I hadn’t been so judgmental when Nathan texted me asking me to come to the hospital. Even though Kaia isn’t my biological daughter, I still wish I had seen her being born. But Lindsay didn’t want me there that day. And I took that as a blessing.
I nearly drop the phone when it begins to vibrate. “Hello?” I answer.
“Adam.”
“Lindsay?” I reply, my voice thick with emotion. “You sound like an angel. Baby, are you okay?”
She lets out a loud grunt that lasts about twenty seconds, then she pants for another ten seconds before she comes back on the line. “Hold on,” she says as she tries to catch her breath.
There’s some rustling, and when I pull the phone away from my ear to make sure she hasn’t hung up, I’m treated to the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. She’s in a typical hospital gown with her hair pulled up into a messy bun, but her cheeks have that plump, rosy glow. I remember it’s exactly how she looked when she gave birth to Mila. When she looked at pictures I took of her that day, she thought she looked awful. But she didn’t see what I saw. I saw the woman I’ve loved for almost a decade miraculously bringing a human into this world.
And that’s exactly what I see now. Even though her face is screwed up with pain as she powers through another contraction. I’ve never seen anyone or anything more beautiful in all my life.
“Baby, you’re looking good. Keep breathing,” I tell her as she comes out of the contraction, somehow managing to hold on to the phone. “Baby, give the phone to your mom.”
“The phone’s gonna die,” Lindsay mutters, then her face contorts with anguish as she begins to cry. “I’m sorry. I didn’t bring the camera. I’m sorry.”
“No, you don’t have to be sorry,” I assure her. “Baby, look at me. Look at me, I’ll be here for you even after the battery dies.”
She nods as she hands the phone off to someone else right before she’s seized by another contraction. “I love you!” she screams through the pain.
I laugh. “I love you, too. Keep breathing, baby. I’m right here with you.”
The screen flickers and I hear a faint beeping sound. The phone turns away from Lindsay and I get a close-up view of Lillian’s face as she squints her eyes.
“The phone is going to die, Adam. Say what you need to say.”
She turns the phone back around and points it at Lindsay, who is leaning back in the bed looking thoroughly exhausted after that last contraction.
“Lindsay, I just want you to know that I don’t care if we have two boys or two girls or two Danny DeVitos, I’m just happy I got to see you tonight, to see that you’re okay. I love you so fucking much. You’re everything to me. I’m coming tonight. I don’t give a fuck about the final tomorrow.”
“No! Don’t you dare come home!” she roars. “You bring back that trophy or I’ll kick your ass.”
I laugh as the screen begins to flicker again. “I will, baby. I promise. Call me when—”
The screen goes dark and the connection is cut off. The phone must have died.
This is a sign.
I didn’t get to see my twins being born.
This is a sign that I haven’t changed at all since the day Kaia was born ten years ago. And as fucking gut-wrenchingly painful as it will be, I will have to accept that I chose to come here instead of staying there. I chose this life. Surfing didn’t choose me. But that doesn’t mean that I can’t still make a different choice. The right choice.
I shake my head as the tears fall down my face. The words I told the Surfline journalist play on a loop in my mind: Learn how to fail gracefully, then get up and try again.
And just like that, I finally understand what I should have known all along.
I would rather fail gracefully at surfing than fail miserably at taking care of my family.
Seventeen
I manage to fall asleep around four a.m. after staring at the pictures Michael texted me for about three hours straight. Dr. Billings took mercy on me and asked one of the nurses to take some pictures with his personal phone as the twins were being born. I fell asleep while gazing at the images of my twin boys being born.
I wake with an ache in my chest. All I want to do is get home and hold my family in my arms, but I promised Lindsay I’d bring back that trophy, and there’s no way I’m going to let her down this time.
* * *
I’m in the Rip Curl sponsor tent, chatting with Andy, when I hear a very familiar voice behind me cry out, “Knock knock!”
My chest floods with warmth. “Who’s there?” I say without turning around.
“Kaia,” she replies.
“Kaia who?”
“Kaia-bunga, dude!”
I laugh as I spin around and scoop her up into my arms. “Oh, baby, I missed you so much,” I say, squeezing her tightly and burying my face in her pale-blonde curls. “How did you get here?”
Right as I speak the question aloud, my gaze lands on Yuri and Lena, who are standing near the corner of the tent. Lena is balancing Mila on her hip while Yuri stands stoically at her side.
“Uncle Yuri brought us,” Kaia replies. “Daddy, you’re squeezing me too hard.”
I chuckle as I set her down on the sand. “Sorry, baby,” I say, grabbing her hand as Yuri and Lena approach. Lena flashes me a tight smile as she hands Mila over to me.
I squeeze my baby girl tight against my chest, breathing in the scent of her hair. “I missed you girls so much. You can’t imagine how happy I am right now.”
Lena glances at Yuri before she turns back to me. “Lindsay really wanted you to win, so she sent in the troops for some moral support.” She links her arm through Yuri’s and nudges his shoulder.
Yuri finally cracks a smile, but he still doesn’t look at me. “I volunteered to bring them. I thought maybe a couple of nights with Mila would make Lena stop begging me about having kids.”
I laugh as Lena smacks him on the arm. “Mila’s not that bad,” I remark, planting a kiss on Mila’s baby-soft cheek. “As long as you feed her forty ounces of unicorn blood every day.”
Yuri shrugs. “Yeah, seems my plan backfired. Mila wanted to sleep with us last night and now I know why you have four of these devils,” he says, his eyes locking on Lena’s. “It was… something else, seeing those two fall asleep together.”
Lena smiles and squeezes his arm. “Just wait until we have a few of these running around. Then you’ll really be in heaven.”
“A few? You said you wanted one. Now it’s a few?”
I shake my head at their bickering as I set Mila down on the sand. “Hey, thanks for bringing my munchkins. I don’t know how to thank you two. I don’t… I don’t deserve this kindness.”
Yuri finally looks me in the eye without a trace of a smile. “You’re my brother, man. I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”
I nod as I swallow the knot in my throat.
Lena sniffs as she wipes a tear away. “Oh, you two, just hug it out already.”
I laugh as I hold out my hand to Yuri and he takes me into a tight—totally masculine—man-hug.
When I let him go, Mila is holding her arms out for me to pick her up again, but Andy shoots me a look. It’s almost time for the heat to begin. My stomach tightens into a ball of nerves. This is it.
I kneel down so I’m at Mila’s level and I grab her hands. “Daddy has to go into the water now, baby, but I’ll be back before you know it. Can I have a good-luck kiss right here?” I say, pointing at my cheek. She bumps her lips against my cheek and I take her into another hug. “I love you, baby.” When I stand up, K
aia is smiling at me, showing off that missing tooth. I take her hand to pull her toward me, and she smashes her cheek against my abdomen. “You’re gonna carry the trophy for me on the stage, okay?” She nods, her face beaming with pride.
I kiss the top of her head before I grab my board and head out. The crowd presses in on all sides of me as I make my way across the sand out to the shore. Carlos makes it out a few seconds after I do and we wait for the horn before we race out into the surf. The crowd goes wild as we make our way around the breaks and the paddle battle begins.
Carlos is a few feet ahead of me as we paddle out, but I can’t let him beat me to the lineup. Keeping my head stationary, I raise my elbows higher as I paddle, allowing me to catch more water, adding more power to each stroke. Soon, I’m right next to Carlos.
“Don’t fucking think about it, Parker. This is mine.”
I ignore his comment, saving my breath to propel myself past him. I make it out to the lineup first, putting myself in position to catch that first wave. Most of the waves are breaking to the left, and everyone knows I’m left-handed, which makes me better on the right-hand waves. But I don’t let this worry me.
We duke it out wave-for-wave, until there are just two minutes left in the heat for either of us to make a move. The total of Carlos’s two best waves are just a fraction of a point ahead of my two best. I need to outscore my second-best wave—an 8.4—by at least 0.6 points. As the clock counts down the seconds to the end of the heat, I take a deep breath and lie across my board. Then I close my eyes and count the seconds between sets.
The water rises beneath me.
One. Two. Three. Four.
The water begins to drop.
Five. Six. Seven. Eight.
Rising again.
“Eight seconds,” I whisper to myself as I open my eyes. Perfect timing. This is my competition to lose.
Suddenly, the sounds of the crowd on the shore and the film crews on the boats nearby fade away. I close my eyes and allow the energy in the water to seep into my skin, into my bones, and I feel it. It’s time.
When I open my eyes, Carlos is going for the wave, but I know I can beat him. I paddle my ass off toward the crest and we both stand up at the same time, but I loop around his backside, dropping in over the top of the wave to come out in front, forcing him to drop off or get called for interference.
I immediately move into a soul arch, leaning my head and shoulders back as I carve through the bottom of the wave, then I lean forward and crouch down a bit as I swoop up to the top of the wave and snap my tail over the lip.
The crowd goes wild, but I try to tune them out as I bounce my tail on the water to generate more speed, shaking the water out of my hair as I come up fast. My stomach vaults when my board lifts out of the water. Then I’m flying. I grab the rails and shift my center of gravity in the direction the board naturally wants to spin. Holding on to the board tightly, I fight to keep my eyes open as the ocean spray showers my face. Then the board comes down on the top of the lip and cruises down the flats into the whitewash.
I laugh hysterically as I stand up. Fucking shit. I just landed a rodeo flip on my final fucking wave. I shake my hair out again, pumping my fist in the air as I ride through the whitewash with my back straight and my head held high.
I lean back to collapse into the water just as the horn sounds, signaling the end of the heat. Grabbing my board, I begin making my way out of the water, watching the board for my final score. Then it appears: 9.8.
I fall to my knees on top of my board in the knee-high surf. I did it. I fucking did it.
The crowd roars as they all rush the water, pulling and touching me from all sides as I cry the most bittersweet tears of my life. Yuri and Andy fight their way to me and soon I’m hoisted up onto their shoulders.
The announcer bellows into the microphone and a chill passes through me. “Congratulations, Adam Parker! Your new WSL World Champion!”
Sand and confetti fly everywhere as Andy and Yuri, buoyed by the energy of the crowd, carry me across the sand toward the stage. I smile when I see Lena, Mila, and Kaia standing off to the side, waiting for me. Yuri and Andy set me down on the platform, which has been covered with black cloth, and I immediately rush over to get my girls.
My heart swells when I see that Kaia is crying. “What’s wrong, baby?”
She shakes her head as she turns her face into my chest. “I’m just happy for you, Daddy.”
“Oh, baby,” I say, picking her up and squeezing her tight. “I’m just happy you’re here with me.”
Hank hands me the trophy and I immediately hand it to Kaia. As the cameras flash, and the congratulations roll in, I can’t help but feel a raw emptiness eating away at me. This moment just isn’t the same without Lindsay.
Someone taps me on the shoulder and I turn around to find Yuri standing behind me, holding out his phone. I take the phone from him and hold it an inch away from my wet ear, but I can’t hear anything over the crowd.
Covering my other ear, I press the phone against me and shout into the phone. “Hello?”
“Congratulations, champ. I knew you’d do it.”
“I wish you were here,” I shout, my throat thick with emotion.
“Hurry up and come home so we can name the babies,” she replies.
I laugh as I hit the FaceTime button on the phone to switch to a video call. She accepts the video call and the sight of her sitting in the hospital bed takes my breath away. I turn around and the commissioner, Lee Wembley, shoves a microphone in my face.
“How are you feeling, Adam?”
I hold the phone up for the crowd to see, then I shout into the microphone, “I had twins last night!”
The crowd laughs at my outburst and I turn the phone screen back to me in time to catch Lindsay laughing.
I grab the microphone from the commissioner and he looks a little shocked as I begin speaking. “Not everyone gets the privilege to see their dreams come true. This victory is for my childhood best friend, Myles, who died the day of his first event. And it’s also for my new best friend. The woman who gave me the four most valuable trophies a man can receive. I love you, Lindsay.”
The crowd goes crazy, but it’s the smile on Lindsay’s face when I look at the phone that makes me happiest. I blow a kiss at her and we both mouth the words I love you before I disconnect and hand the phone back to Yuri.
And as the award ceremony winds down, and Carlos and his team give me their congratulations, Yuri and Lena finally get to take Kaia, Mila, and me back to the hotel. The five of us have a quiet dinner before Yuri and Lena head back to their room and the girls and I settle in for the night. After a long shower, the world champion of surfing falls asleep with his baby girls slobbering all over him, and he wouldn’t want it any other way.
Eighteen
I’ve only been in the stockroom of Yuri and Lena’s surf shop a couple of times, but I’m not at all surprised that it smells briny despite the fact that it’s very clean and organized. The briny smell is probably from the wetsuit that hangs from a hook in the ceiling, dripping saltwater into a large blue bucket. Cases of sunblock, nutritional supplements, and surf wax line the shelves, which extend from floor to ceiling in this room that’s about as big as a janitor’s closet.
I stand up straight when I hear Lena’s voice inside the shop. Even with the door to the stockroom closed, I can still hear her laughing as she says, “Keep your eyes closed or I’ll shank you.”
I open the door and peek my head out of the room. Lena locks eyes with me and nods, giving me the all clear to come out. I take my place behind the checkout counter at the back of the shop.
Yuri grins as Lena leads him past a rack of board shorts. “This better be good, ’cause you’re giving me nervous gas. It’s just you and me here, right? ’Cause I really need to rip one.”
I press my lips together and cover my mouth so he can’t hear me laughing.
Lena rolls her eyes as she leads him toward the counter.
“Yeah, it’s just you and me. Let ’er rip.”
Yuri lets out a loud fart, much louder than anything I could have expected. And I can’t hold it in anymore.
I cackle loudly, coughing through my hysterics as Yuri opens his eyes. “Jesus fucking Christ,” I choke out through the laughter and the smell. “I think the walls shook with that one.”
Lena shakes her head in shame, but Yuri isn’t laughing. He’s standing on the other side of the checkout counter stock still, staring at the wall behind me. He doesn’t say a word as I take a moment to catch my breath, my gaze following the same direction as his.
Up on the wall, under the Rip Curl sign Andy gave Lena on the championship tour last year, is a six-foot-two-inch-long hollow-core surfboard shaped from paulownia wood. The glassy resin finish still has its original mirror shine. I switched to an epoxy board pretty quickly when I was learning to surf. The wood is just a tad less flexible and forgiving than the epoxy boards. But my mom had the foresight to keep my first surfboard in a protective case in our garage until I moved in with Lindsay and asked for it back. It’s been hanging in my workshop ever since.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Yuri whispers, his eyes still fixed on the board.
“Not at all,” I reply with a huge smile. “It’s yours, if you still want it.”
He finally looks at me, his eyes pleading. “This better not be a joke, or I swear to God I’ll rip another one.”
“Dude, no need to make threats,” I say, holding up my hands. “The board is yours.”
His eyes widen as he breaks into a cheesy grin. “Are you fucking kidding me? Woo!” he hollers, pumping his fist as he leaps into the air, accidentally kicking a display of energy drinks. He rounds the counter and throws his arms around me. “I love you, man.”
I laugh as I pat his back. “Love you too, bro.”
When he lets me go, his eyes are red and watery as he turns his Quiksilver baseball cap backward so he has an unobstructed view of the board.