“I imagine him being around brings back old memories.”
I squeezed my eyes tightly shut and nodded. Too many memories, ones that I took out and relived inside my imagination far more often than I should. A succession of images suddenly flashed through my brain. My eyes watered as I reopened them.
Simone’s gaze narrowed in concern. “I heard he went on stage at the Deck Bar. Heard you danced with him.”
Patrick or Tasha must have blabbed. I shrugged noncommittally.
“You two used to be real close before…”
“We were,” I cut in. So close. Too close. “And then we weren’t. You know the details.” I hadn’t held much back from her, except for the incident at the OB Hotel and what had happened the last time Ramon and I had been alone together.
“Well, he’s back now.” Her brows drew together. “You’re here to stay. What if…”
“Do we really have to get into this?” My tone was sharp. I stood abruptly. Folding my chair, I avoided her gaze as I hung it back on the hook on the building. Nothing had changed with Ramon and me, except that we were both older, meaning I should be wiser where he was concerned. “You just got back from LA,” I told her, glancing her way to find her frowning at me. “I missed you. I would much rather talk about you and Linc and your happy future, than Ramon Martinez and my depressing past.”
“Ok, honey.” She stood, closed the distance between us and wrapped her fingers gently around my upper arms. “I just worry about you.” She cocked her head to the side as she studied me. “Spending so much time together this past month has been great, but I can tell that you’re still hurting. Maybe just barely keeping your head above the water.”
“I lost my husband.”
“I know that.”
“Everywhere I turn there are memories I can’t escape,” I admitted. “And not just ones with him.”
“I understand,” she confirmed. “Linc and Ash think maybe you should go back into counseling.”
I tensed. I knew those three were close, but I didn’t like that they were talking about me. “I’ve had enough of counseling. Nearly three whole years to be exact. I don’t want to talk about my feelings anymore.”
“So you say. But maybe you need to if you’re not moving forward. Right?”
“I am moving forward, but I can only take it day by day.” I held her gaze. She released my arms, but only to capture my hands in hers instead.
“You once gave me some good advice when my life had stalled out after Linc. You told me to get a dog or get a man.”
“My situation is different.”
“True. But in a lot of ways it’s similar. You’re holding onto your grief like I was, and that’s unhealthy.”
I tugged my hands free of hers, but I nodded. She was right. I got that. I wasn’t clueless, just in carefully structured denial. I had done some good things. I had stopped using drinking as a crutch. I was working on getting back to myself the best that I could. “It was a big step to come back to OB,” I declared, my tone probably a little too defensive.
“I agree.” She smiled at me, but it wobbled. “Don’t be mad. I don’t want us to be at odds. I love you. We all do. I think you forget how important you are to all of us. We all want what’s best for you. I want what’s best for you, and sometimes that means confronting you when I think that you’re hurting yourself.”
* * *
As I turned to take the walkway that led to Dominic’s father’s home, my stomach still churned on the things Simone had said. I knew she was right. It was easier to hide behind my grief than to get past it.
Feeling sluggish, I climbed the set of steps and stopped on the front stoop. The small bungalow before me was much the same as it had always been. Well-tended oleander lined the walk. The louvered shutters still opened to let in the breeze from the ocean a couple of streets away. But inside of the house time and circumstances had taken their toll. Mostly on Dominic’s father, his heart like mine in a state of chronic disrepair. The loss of his only son and also the woman he had remained devoted to long after her death had shrugged Franklin Campo’s strong shoulders and stamped sadness within his once steely gaze. Sure his body was still fit for duty, his haircut high and tight, but it was his eyes that betrayed the ruin. They misted readily when he opened the door. Mine did the same though I blinked through it.
“Hey, pretty Karen.” His assessing gaze swept over me as he motioned me inside. “How’s your father today?”
“He’s good. More good days this week than bad.”
“I’m glad to hear that. Tom is so happy to have you back home. Every time I run into him at the market he tells me. But you look tired. Are you still having trouble sleeping?” He took the sack of individual meals my mom had packed for him and gestured to the sofa. Perceptive as always. My circular thoughts last night had kept me awake and led me nowhere. “Have a seat.” Franklin had a way of looking at me that made it seem as though he could see right inside of me. “I’ll put these in the fridge and be right back.”
I took a seat on one end of the sofa and stared blankly out the window, but not really seeing anything but the worn thoughts inside my head until he returned. He sat on the opposite end, straightened his faded Semper Fi t-shirt, put his hands on his knees and swiveled to face me. “Tell Linette thank you for me.”
“I will.”
“I love her peach pie. Your mother spoils me. You do, too. Coming to visit me every week, as often as you called from New York when you lived there.”
“I enjoy talking with you, Sir.” I smiled softly. “I always have.” In a lot of ways, he and my father were similar souls. Each loyally committed to one woman. Each fond of dispensing advice that I tried my best over the years to follow.
“Just call me Dad. I thought you agreed on that.”
I glanced away. As my own father’s illness progressed, I would lose the wisdom of his counsel. It terrified me to imagine life without him. I wasn’t ready for that foundation to be shaken at a time when I felt like everything else had fallen apart. “You’ve earned the right to be respected, Sir.”
“I have. That’s true, but the older I get, the more I realize that I prefer relationships over respectful titles. Love is what matters most. It endures even after those we loved are gone. I think you understand that.”
I nodded. “Ok…Dad.” I loved him no matter what title I used. But I still found it uncomfortable to call him that. For many reasons. Maybe because I was losing my own. Maybe because as a retired staff sergeant in the Marines, it seemed overly familiar. But mostly I felt like I shouldn’t have that privilege because of how I had failed his son. “How’s the planting going?” I needed to find less emotionally charged topics to discuss. “Are your roses budding yet?”
“Almost. It won’t be long now.” His wise eyes narrowed. I think he knew I was redirecting him. “How about you? How are the little ones doing in the surf class?”
“Logan stood on the board several times today. You should have seen his face.”
“That’s wonderful. Are the girls in the class still giving him a hard time?”
I nodded. “But he does alright. We have a system for handling their teasing.”
“Really? What’s that?” he queried.
“He smiles at them to disarm them, then figures out a way to turn the teasing into a compliment. And I add a green Jolly Rancher to his jar every time he does.”
“You think he knows they’re just trying to get his attention?”
“He’s too young to realize that yet.” I shook my head. “But he’ll learn.”
“That’s for sure. But how about you, pretty Karen?”
“What do you mean?” I squinted my eyes at him, not because I couldn’t see him clearly. I only wore glasses for reading.
“When are you going to realize how much good is stored up in your heart and what a tragedy it is to waste it year after year blaming yourself for what happened with my boy?”
I froze like a solid block o
f ice. We never talked about that. His day. Mine. Surf. Flowers. Safe and approved subjects. Never Dominic’s death or the way I felt about it.
“You’re mistaken.” I shook my head, tears pricking my eyes. “Dominic was the good one. Strong. Kind. Pure hearted. Not me.”
“He was all those things, I agree. I couldn’t have asked for a better son. But give yourself some credit. He chose you. I know my boy. He would want to see you happy again. Living your life. You’ll reach the age when you realize that there is no greater joy in this world than seeing the ones you love happy. Dominic loved you. So do I. Honor us both by allowing yourself to love again.”
“I don’t think it’s in the cards for me anymore. I had my chance at it. That’s gone now. I have a life that’s fulfilling. You’re in it. My parents. Simone and Linc. Ash.”
“What about Ramon?”
I stiffened. “What about him?”
“I suspect he hurts nearly as much as you do. He and my son were best friends for many years. Everyone you mentioned has someone to lean on. Linc has Ash. You have Simone. Who does Ramon have?”
“He has his dad. His brother. His niece.”
“Yes. But not a friend. Someone who sees the real person behind all of the fame. Someone who shares a history. I’m glad he’s returned to OB. Glad you two are spending time together again. I think you could be good for each other.”
“Who told you we were spending time together?”
“I used to work at the Deck Bar, remember? A buddy of mine still does. He and I have coffee before church on Sundays. He told me he saw you two eating dinner together last night.”
“Yes, we did. We haven’t seen each other in years. It was nice to catch up.” Nice but hurtful at the same time. To be near someone who meant so much, but to always know you could never be as close as you wanted to be. “But I’m not sure when I’ll see him again.” I regretted leaving that open invitation for him to join me at the cliffs. That was my time. Surfing was my only therapy. He wasn’t the key to me moving forward, any more than I was the linchpin to his happiness. We were more like anchors that dragged each other into the past. He had his life. His women. He didn’t need me getting in the way. I was just a reminder of the best friend he had lost, and an obligation he had earned the right to be unshackled from.
Chapter Nine
Ramon
Hands in my pockets, I stood staring through the glass panes at the blue slate of the Pacific while thinking of her. The view from the living room windows had sold me on this house in the cliffs. So had the fact that I knew Karen would love it.
Time hadn’t lessened the hold she had over me. Seeing her again only brought long buried feelings rushing back to the surface. I wondered if the surfing class was over. If she was already with Dominic’s dad right now. What they might be talking about. Whether or not she might be thinking about me, too.
My mind ebbed and flowed like the tide in front of me. I tried to focus on the rhythm of the surf and not on how keyed up I had been since I’d last seen her. My cell rang before I could arrange my tumbled thoughts into any sort of order.
“Hey, loser,” the Dirt Dog’s drummer’s distinctive voice intoned as cool as a California breeze. “Bored with retirement yet?”
“Ash.” I ignored the dig. He often opined that it wouldn’t stick for me. That Diesel would wear me down and get me back on the road again eventually. “What’s up with you?” I asked him.
“Not a whole lot. Trying to convince Linc and Simone to record a couple more songs to capitalize on the popularity of the Blaine thing. Listen, I heard you were at the Deck Bar last night.”
“Says who?”
“Simone’s friend Patrick. He mentioned you giving his band some advice and that you did a song with them.”
“Yeah. So…”
“So for a guy who said he didn’t care if he ever stepped out on stage again that seems pretty telling.”
“Well, never say never. Right?” Especially when it came to a certain woman.
“Anyway, I also heard that you got our reclusive widow out of her usual work and home only groove. And I wondered if you might get her to come down to the pier. Linc’s gonna propose to Simone at the end of the week. We’re planning a party down there to celebrate afterward.”
“Karen won’t go to the pier.”
“That’s what Linc said. But if anyone can get that reluctant prom queen to reconsider it would be you. Right?”
“I don’t know.”
“It would mean a lot to Simone. She worries about Karen. Wants to get her out of her shell. The studio is there. It’s where we all hang out. Three years is a long time. Just say you’ll give it a try.”
“I will. But I don’t think I have much sway with her anymore.”
“I actually heard differently. Heard you two looked pretty tight over dinner, and that you were swaying really friendly together on the dance floor.”
“We’re friends. Patrick should keep his mouth shut,” I guessed.
“No, actually that part came from Vassel. Dude was sounding off about it at Hodad’s. He didn’t seem too happy about you being so chummy with Karen. No doubt he was reading too much into it. I’m thinking he may make a play for her. Not that you would mind, would you?”
* * *
I was tired of my own company. Sick of stalking around the house all day stewing about what Ash had said regarding Vassel and Karen. Plus, I had to get out. It was dinner time, and there was no food in the fridge. I hopped into my Explorer and pointed it in the direction of town. A short drive along residential palm tree lined streets in minimal traffic got me there. I found an empty parking spot a couple of stores uphill from Mona’s. While clicking the locks and starting up the sidewalk, I glanced in the direction of the surf shop hoping, even though I knew it was closed, to see Karen. Because I wasn’t looking, I almost knocked over a chick wearing a Lakers ski cap, several long sleeve shirts and at least three layers of ankle length skirts. Far too much clothing for a temperate SoCal evening. I started to apologize to her, but she gathered herself, gave me a wide-eyed look and galloped on past me, lifting her skirts above her knees to aid her escape. A moment later I realized why she was in such a hurry. Several rough looking guys eyed her retreating form.
“Hey,” I called out to the tallest one. “I hope you’re not hassling that young lady?”
All three stopped and the tall one stepped toward me. “Stay out of it, Beaner,” he warned flashing a pierced mouth full of rotting teeth. “It’s none of your concern.”
“Well now, I have to disagree, especially since you just made it personal.” I spread my arms wide as if I didn’t mean for this to turn ugly, but I did. I had no tolerance for bullies or racists. I felt a rush of cooler air at my back, then heard my brother Gonzolo’s voice.
“That dude just call you what I think he did?”
“Yeah,” I confirmed.
“Excellent.” Gonzolo moved to my right and straightened to his full height. He was nearly as tall as I was, and built like a weight lifter. He cracked his knuckles, always up for a good fight. “Which one are you gonna take, hermano?”
Backing away from us, the other two shorter guys shifted nervously on their feet.
“This isn’t over,” the tall dude told me. He had his hand at his waist on the inside of his unbuttoned plaid shirt like he might have a weapon concealed there.
“I’d be disappointed if it were,” I replied, lifting a challenging brow.
He gave me one last confrontational look before thinking better of it. He hooked his thumb and headed up the sidewalk in the opposite direction. His buddies fell in behind him.
“What the hell was that all about?” my brother asked while we both kept our eyes on the trio until they disappeared down an alley between the buildings.
“Beats the hell out of me. They were chasing some girl.” I glanced in the direction she had fled, but there was no sign of her. “Thanks for having my back.”
“Alway
s, little brother.” He gave me a half hug and clapped me on the back while I did the same to him.
“Pop working tonight?” I queried, though I knew it was his usual day to cook.
“Yeah, I already told him to make you a carnitas burrito with extra of his special salsa.” He threw his arm around my shoulder. “I’ve got Luna this weekend. She’s inside. She got pretty excited when she saw you out here.”
“Yeah, right,” I said skeptically. I didn’t expect the same degree of hero worship from her now that she was older. I pulled open the door, and he preceded me inside Neto’s, the restaurant our dad had worked at for as long as I could remember. It wasn’t fancy. Food was served on paper plates and waxed paper and eaten on the go or at the yellow Formica topped tables with red benches. But it was a local favorite, I believed in no small part due to my father’s expertise.
My niece glanced up as I scooted into a vacant spot opposite her. Eleven now, her long straight black hair held back by a white headband with a pretty flower, Luna was on the verge of becoming a beautiful woman. Like her mother, my brother’s ex, the one who had ripped his heart out too many times before he finally wised up and dumped her cheating ass.
“Hey, Uncle Ramon.” Her dark brown eyes met mine. “How was Hawaii?”
“Nice,” I answered. “But too far away from you.” I reached across the table and lightly tugged on a strand of her hair. Gonzolo slid in beside his daughter and stretched his arm across the back of bench behind her. “How’s my favorite niece?”
“I’m your only niece,” she threw back sassily. She smirked, but I gave her sass a pass. I doted on her nearly as badly as my brother. I loved her cute smiles, and I was more than a little sad that she was too old now and dignified to launch herself at me and hug me the way she had only the year before.
“Dad will be glad to see you.” Gonzolo pointed with his goateed chin toward the kitchen pass through window. “We’ve already eaten, but we’ll stay and visit with you for a while.”
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