Riptide (Rock Stars, Surf and Second Chances Book 2)

by Michelle Mankin

  “I already spoke with a recruiter. My mind’s made up, Ramon. Say you’re happy for me.”

  I wasn’t. I respected the hell out of our military. I just didn’t want him in harm’s way. All the years of our friendship flashed before my eyes. Suddenly, everything in the world felt too close and inescapable.

  “Shit, man. I didn’t expect the wall of silence from you.” He glanced away. I watched his fingers curl into fists. “You know how my dad’s always wanted me to follow in his footsteps though he never pressured me. I thought you would understand, but maybe things are worse between us than I imagined.”

  “I do understand, Patch. I get it. Totally. It’s an honorable thing you’re doing.” I swallowed, and manned up following his example. “I’m proud of you. Happy for you if a career in the military is what you really want.” I looked him straight in the eyes and saw his determination. “Only don’t get hurt. Ok?” I wasn’t bullshitting.

  He gave me a tight nod, so I lightened things up.

  “Good, ‘cause I don’t have time to be breaking in a new friend. I’m gonna be too busy trying to find a decent bassist, and it’ll be a full-time gig trying to deal with this bunch of assholes without you around anymore.”

  “Yeah, I get that. Listen, I need a favor from you.”

  “Name it.”

  “I want you to keep an eye out on Karen.”

  “I’ve got a tour to finish.” It wasn’t that I didn’t want to help with her. It was that he didn’t know what he was asking. I could never tell him. I could barely admit to myself the way I felt about her.

  “I realize that. I’m not asking for close supervision. She’ll have her parents and my dad, but if they send me overseas, which the recruiter warned is likely, I just want you to make it clear to her that you’re available for her to talk to when you’re in OB and I’m not around. I think you care about her. I know she cares about you.”

  That was news to me, but then I had been an ass to her and him a lot lately.

  “She opens up to you. I’ve seen it. She tells you her feelings pretty straight. She doesn’t do that with everyone. I want that for her. I want her to be able to let down her guard, to have someone nearby who she can trust.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Karen

  November 2001

  “You’re going to have to let me go, beautiful.”

  “I know,” I mumbled into his chest. “But I can’t.”

  “Karen, look at me.” He stated in that assertive tone that had gotten more commanding now that he had completed boot camp.

  “Yes, Sir.” I lifted my head, an arrow slicing right through my quivering heart at how devastatingly handsome he looked in full uniform, his light brown hair shorn to his skull and his gaze full of love and affection for me. I attempted to glare, but it wasn’t very effective with my splotchy face and eyes full of tears.

  “That’s my girl.” He hooked his thumb under my chin and brought my mouth to his for a soft kiss. “I love you,” he declared afterward.

  My lips trembled. “I love you, too,” I whispered.

  “It’ll be ok.” He executed a precise military turn and marched toward his brothers. I watched him line up and board the bus. I followed his form as he made his way down the aisle and took a seat near the back. As I watched the bus pull out of the parking lot, I stood like a tree rooted to the asphalt in the same spot where he had kissed me amid a blur of other wives with their own breaking hearts. I had never felt so alone.

  I spent the first week of Dominic’s deployment in a daze. I went through the daily motions. I held my shit together until the night came, then I brought his pillow to my chest and cried into it, muffling my sobs so my parents wouldn’t worry.

  That first month, I sat by the phone every week an hour ahead of his scheduled call anxiously waiting to hear his voice. After we had used up our allotted twenty minutes, I would cry so hard I usually threw up.

  I returned to work at the surf shop. I surfed to the point of exhaustion. I rarely slept. I dreaded the nightmares that awaited me whenever I did manage to close my eyes.

  After six months, he came home for a week of leave. We barely left my bedroom. I was envious of every minute he spent out of my arms. When the time came to say goodbye again, I hoped and prayed I would get pregnant. I wanted a baby to fill that growing emptiness inside of me. I felt so incredibly hollow, like a fragile shell on the verge of cracking from the constant pressure of concern.

  * * *

  May 2002

  “Karen, come quick.” I leapt from my chair in the living room where I had been folding laundry and lunged into the kitchen.

  “Who is it, Mom?” My heart pounded with dread when I saw the phone in her hand. “What ‘s wrong?” I squeaked, bracing while at the same time trying not to shake.

  “Nothing, honey. It’s Ramon Martinez.”

  My panic receded. I hadn’t heard from him or any of the other guys in the band since Dominic had completed boot camp. Though Ramon had attended the hour-long ceremony, selfishly I hadn’t said more than two words to him. The clock had been ticking down. My sole focus had been on my soon to be leaving husband.

  “You scared the shit out of me,” I hissed at my mom, covering the receiver. “Say who it is right away next time.”

  She frowned. I touched her arm to soften my rebuke. She kissed my cheek in silent forgiveness. Blonde hair near the same color as my own brushed my nose as she hugged me tightly for an additional moment. She was a wife. She understood.

  “Hello,” I said into the phone when she released me.

  “Hey, how are you?” Ramon’s deep voice rumbled into my ear as my mom left the room.

  “I’m ok,” I lied. Surviving was more like it, though my husband was the one in a war zone. I really had no right to complain.

  “Yeah? Well, good. I’m in town, so I was wondering if you’d like to come hang with me. Maybe catch a few waves in the morning and grab something to eat after that.”

  “I work in the morning.”

  “At the surf shop, right? But that doesn’t open until later.”

  “I surf with my dad.”

  “So…I don’t think he’d mind if you skipped a day to see an old friend.”

  “Since when did we become old friends?”

  “Man, you’re prickly today.” He blew out a breath into the phone. “Since the day you decided you were in love with my best friend, I guess. Though you’re giving me such grief right now I’m beginning to reassess that status.”

  “Why now? Why after six months do you suddenly find the need to spend time with me?”

  “I…”

  “The truth. I don’t have room for bullshit in my life anymore.”

  “Because I miss him, and you’re the closest connection I’ve got to Mr. Semper Fi. That enough truth for you?”

  “I guess. Ok. Offer accepted. I’ll meet you at the beach by the Pier. First thing in the morning.”

  * * *

  Ramon

  The sun hadn’t yet risen when she appeared, her lonely form coalescing in the grainy grey twilight. No smile. No spring in her step. No shine in her eyes.

  With barely an acknowledgement, she headed toward the surf as if it summoned her. Without hesitation, I fell in behind her, throwing my board onto the water and paddling after her. We didn’t speak as we bobbed side by side on the waves. Only the roar of the ocean and the occasional cry of a gull broke the silence between us. We weren’t really alone. The spot next to the pier was rarely unoccupied. Yet, it seemed as if it were just us two within some kind of commiserative bubble.

  She sat on her board for a long while patiently staring out to sea. I found myself watching her as much or more than I did the set pattern of the waves.

  A perfect swell arose in the distance. I spotted it at the same time she did. Sitting up straighter in anticipation, she spun her board around in the direction of the shore and popped up into position, at once serene in her element. For every wave I t
ook, she took two, executing seemingly effortlessly maneuver after maneuver. Surfing wasn’t a hobby for her. It was her religion. The ocean was her sanctuary.

  Hours later, I stood on the shore alone, my hand resting on my board. She remained on the water. Her stamina was incredible. She had schooled me. I was too out of shape to keep up with her after the indulgences of the last tour. I shifted my weight from one foot to another, my toes sinking deep in the sand as I tried to keep my overstretched muscles from cramping. I didn’t even consider leaving. I couldn’t look away from her.

  Dropping down on her board, she exited a decent curl. Strands of blonde snarled around her face as she used the remnants of the wave to propel herself all the way to the shallows.

  “Sweet ride on that last one,” I observed when she joined me.

  “Thanks.” Only a little out of breath, she shifted her board into a better position under her arm, bent at the waist, undid her leash and straightened while I tried to discretely check out her ass. “You’re not so bad yourself.” I noticed her time in the ocean had loosened the tightness around her eyes.

  “Untrue,” I snorted. “I’m way out of practice.” I motioned over my shoulder to the wall where we had dropped our towels. “We still have a couple of minutes before you start work. Why don’t you sit and talk with me?”

  “Ok.” She rewarded me with a small smile that meant more than the standing ovation we had received at our last show. Not that we’d had a lot of those since Patch left. The Dogs were going to have to work hard to rebuild our reputation with his substitute, a former pro surfer, a buddy Linc had brought in to finish out the tour.

  Situated along the wall, still zipped into our wetsuits to counter the lingering chill in the air, she took one bottled water out from under her towel and offered me another. It seemed crazy the way that small kindness of hers affected me, crazy the way the innocent brush of her fingers against mine sparked my imagination. But then the type of women I hung around were nothing like her, neither kind nor innocent.

  “What are you thinking about?” she asked, her gaze on the water, her shapely legs dangling off the wall above the sand.

  “About you. How you’re doing for one thing. You seem sad, much worse than when you were stuck at Yale while Dominic was on the road.”

  “Are you surprised?” She turned her head, her lips flattened. The gaze that met mine was broken glass, jagged, full of razor edged shards. “Not much chance of him being shot or blown to pieces on stage, is there?” The plastic of her empty water bottle crackled as she crushed it in her hands.

  “No,” I agreed. Reaching over, I gently loosened her grip, took one of her hands in my own and squeezed it. What else could I do or say to show her that she wasn’t alone except… “I worry about him, too.”

  She gave my admission a curt nod and turned back to her ocean. Finished with our waters and without anything more to say, we remained, her hand in mine, and strangely it wasn’t awkward. Patch was the bond between us, tying us together and yet also keeping us safely apart.

  “The long periods of separation between leaves are just awful,” she finally whispered. Sliding her hand free, she began to pick at the label on the bottle. “The uncertainty. The fear. It’s torture. But I can’t tell him. I don’t want to be a burden to him.”

  Fuck.

  “There’s no way he ever thinks of you like that. And I didn’t know…I didn’t stop to think about how rough things were for you. I’m sorry I didn’t come to pay you a visit sooner.” Patch had asked me to look after her, but I’d done a piss poor job. I’d left her alone far too long. I hadn’t really believed that she would need me. But she did. She needed someone reliable. I desperately wanted to be that and more for her.

  “It’s ok,” she said. “I’m sure all the soldier’s wives feel the same way I do. Only…”

  “Only you didn’t sign up for this, did you?” I guessed.

  She shook her head, and I could sense her closing off again.

  “Hey.” I scooted closer, threw my arm around her shoulders and pulled her into my side, not allowing myself to dwell on how good she felt there. “It’s alright. One day at a time, right? Patch is smart. The Marines might run to the sound of the guns, but that’s because they’re ready to kick some ass. He’s a badass, Karen. There’s no chance he’s not coming home to you.” I felt some of the stiffness in her frame loosening.

  “I hope you’re right,” she whispered.

  “I know I am,” I assured her.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Karen

  “Oh, Ramon,” I gasped, my hand clasped to my chest where my heart hammered. “I didn’t see you there. Is everything ok?” The ever-present paranoia had me quickly calculating his expression rather than rechecking to make sure that I had locked the surf shop door. He didn’t appear to be upset, but he didn’t usually come to the shop either, and there was something in his gaze that seemed different as he regarded me. Since we had been spending so much time together in the mornings, I was starting to notice subtle things about him. Like how he often ran a hand through his hair when he doubted himself or how his accent became more pronounced when his emotions ran high.

  “Everything’s fine.” He raked a handful of jet black curls off his brow. “Since you’re through with work, I just wondered if you might want to come over to my pop’s place for dinner tonight.”

  “I’d love to.” Everyone in OB knew about his dad’s culinary skills. My brows pulled together. I wasn’t dressed for the occasion. My customary halter top and cutoffs over a swimsuit were acceptable attire for the surf shop, but I didn’t think they quite cut it for a dinner engagement. “Do I have time to shower and change?”

  “I don’t think so. He’s making mole. It’s a time sensitive dish.” His eyes on mine, he reached out and tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear. “Besides, you look great just the way you are.”

  “Thanks.” My stomach fluttered from his touch and his praise. “Can I borrow your cell to call my parents to let them know where I’ll be? Just in case…well…so anyone can reach me…if they needed to.”

  “You don’t have a cell?”

  “Uh-uh.” I made a face. “Too expensive.”

  “Here.” He passed me his phone. I spoke briefly with my mom before handing the cell back to him.

  “You never let go worrying about him, do you?”

  “No,” I admitted softly. It was pointless to pretend that I was strong, and a relief to share my true feelings with someone.

  “That worry is wearing you down, surfer girl.” His dark chocolate eyes glittered intently. He didn’t seem to miss much when it came to me. “We’re going to have to come up with a strategy to build you back up.”

  “I already have a strategy,” I said with as must bravado as I could muster, though admittedly I liked the ‘we’ part of his plan. Spending time with him even if we just sat on the wall and watched the other surfers made me feel less isolated. “I work. I surf. I stay busy.”

  “That’s great, but you’ve gotta have some variety. You can’t surf 24-7. You need to do other things. Spend time with friends. Have some fun.”

  “It doesn’t seem right to have fun with Dominic being where he is.”

  “Nonsense. His contract is an eight-year commitment, right?”

  I nodded. “With the option at the halfway point to stay overseas for more pay or come home and make less.”

  “That’s a long time to deprive yourself. Don’t you think he’s finding ways to pass the time where he is?”

  “Sure. I guess. He plays video games. Watches movies. And he has his bass. He started a band with some of the other musicians in his unit.” He had missed an allotted phone time with me just this past week because of a performance.

  “I bet those things help his morale a ton. So do you concede my point?”

  “Yeah, sure,” I grumbled. “Is that why you asked me to dinner?”

  “That’s part of it. My dad’s anxious to meet you. I t
hink you’ll like him. And my brother Gonzolo, who you remember from high school. But my sister-in-law I’ll have to apologize for in advance. She’s a first-class bitch.”

  * * *

  Ramon

  My family took to Karen like I had known they would. She was flattered that my dad had offered a dish that featured chocolate knowing it was her favorite. He preened at her praise, and she peppered him with questions about how he had prepared the mole. Gonzolo actively recounted Karen’s many accolades during high school from the beauty queen titles to her role on the student council. She downplayed it all, but I could tell she was enjoying herself. The only downside to the evening was my sister-in-law. Maria didn’t care for all the attention Karen was receiving, and she was taking every opportunity to be shitty to her.

  “It’s probably pretty easy to be the popular girl when you’re white and have tons of money.”

  “Cállate, Maria,” Gonzolo hissed, giving her a not so subtle glare.

  “It’s ok.” Karen’s words were tight. “Yes, I’m white, but that’s only the color of my skin. It doesn’t define who I am inside. You’re wrong about the money. We did have to worry about finances most of my life. Things are certainly better now for my parents since my dad sold the grocery store to the big chain. But that’s his money. I work. My husband’s a mechanic in the Marines. We’re saving to have a family and a house of our own one day. I’m sure my hopes and dreams aren’t really much different than your own.”

  “All I’m saying chica is…”