Waves of Desire: Pleasure Point Series Book Three

by Jennifer Evans

  Her phone rang, and she snatched it up.

  “Nelson! Where is he?” Rosalyn’s eyes grew wider and more fearful as she listened. “He didn’t say anything to you? … You’re sure? You better tell me if you know something. Let me talk to your dad.” I listened to the one-sided conversation as Rosalyn wept, trying to catch her breath. “Ben, you promise? See what Nelson knows and call me back—those two tell each other everything.” She hung up and said, “I’m calling the police.”

  “Rosalyn,” I said, holding her arms. “We’ll find him. You need to stay calm.”

  “Don’t tell me what to do!”

  Rosalyn paced the small living room, the phone stuck to her ear so hard that the veins on her arms popped out. She hung up the phone, her face white. “They said I should call all his friends and check the neighborhood. Then I can file a report.”

  “Here’s what we’re going to do,” I said, pulling on a T-shirt and shrugging into my jacket. “I’m going to comb the neighborhood. I’ve got my phone right here.” I held the phone up. “You start calling all his friends and stay right here for when he comes back.” I didn’t want to say if he comes back.

  “I’m going with you!”

  “Rosalyn, look at me,” I said, forcing her to face me. “Take a deep breath, make yourself a cup of tea, and try to calm down. We’re going to find him.”

  “I don’t want a cup of tea!” Tears spilled down her face. “If anything happens to him … I don’t know what I’ll do.”

  “Look at me. We’ll find him. He can’t have gone far.”

  “And it’s been raining all night, and he’s probably hungry, and oh God, what are we going to do?”

  “Rosalyn, just wait here. Give me an hour. Call everyone you can think of.”

  She clutched her phone, her hands shaking. “You call me every few minutes, okay?”

  I cupped her face between my hands. Her eyes were already red-rimmed from crying. “We’ll find him.”

  I bolted out of the house, leapt into my truck, and sped off with about an hour left before the sun rose. I had a crazy idea of where Eugene had run off to, but it was a gamble. The way he and Nelson had gone on about surfing big waves, that glint in Eugene’s eyes when he talked about Mavericks, and the way he’d been insistent that he’d figure out a way to get there. He’d even told me they had buses that made the trip. I turned left to head out of Pleasure Point and began the forty-eight mile drive to Half Moon Bay.

  Every few minutes, I’d get a text from Rosalyn asking if I’d found Eugene yet or telling me that she was calling around with no luck.

  Within the hour, I pulled into the town of El Granada and then cruised down the final bumpy road that led to Maverick’s fearsome surf break.

  How bizarre that just a week prior, I’d been in that very parking lot, almost losing my best friend to the ocean. Now I prayed that my instincts were right about Eugene. I parked my truck next to a Ford Pinto where some guy was asleep in the backseat, jumped out of my truck, and slammed the door. The ever-present foghorn greeted me with its melancholy bleat.

  I jogged down the path that led to the ocean just as the sky transformed into a palette of pink, with wisps of white clouds. The beach was a lonely stretch of emptiness except for a man with a Golden Retriever. And then I saw Eugene. I exhaled the breath I’d been holding.

  Eugene sat, staring at the ocean, his backpack next to him. In front of him was a metal storage box. It looked like someone had taken a hatchet to the thing. Eugene’s shoulders heaved and shook with sobs.

  “Hey,” I said, putting my hand on his shoulder. When he turned around, his face was covered in tears, his eyes red, and his pale skin blotched from the effort of crying. “Mind if I sit down?” He turned his head away. I sat down. We stared at the ocean. “Your mom’s kind of worried about you.”

  The sun rose, and the chill from the gray ocean worked its way into my bones as the seagulls and pelicans made their early morning hunt and dive for breakfast.

  Eugene wiped his nose with the back of his hand and said, “Why’s my mom worried about me now? She doesn’t care.”

  “What you got here?” I said, tapping the box with my foot.

  And that’s when Eugene lost it. He stood up, glared at me, and said, “I don’t need a mom! I don’t need a mom, and I’m gonna find a way … I’ll go live with Nelson if I have to!” He fled down the beach, his legs lightning fast, his dark hair flying in the breeze. Unfortunately for Eugene, I was twice as fast as him, so I caught up to him and seized him in a bear hug. I spun him around.

  “You may not need your mom buddy, but she needs you.”

  He shoved me away, tears streaming down his face. “You’re not my dad! You can’t be my dad! I don’t need a dad. My mom and me …”

  Oh my God, he knows.

  His sobbing fit came in huge, choking breaths as he attempted another getaway. I caught him again, my arms around his shoulders.

  “Stop it! Leave me alone! You’re not my dad.” His fists pounded my chest, and then it seemed like all the fight left him. He collapsed against me, his tears staining the front of my jacket.

  It felt like a forty-foot wave slammed over me. Eugene knew the truth. How was I going to explain something that I barely even knew the details of?

  I reached into my jeans pocket and found a napkin from a fast food restaurant and handed it to him. “Hey. Looks like your face is covered in snot.” He took the napkin and blew his nose hard, looking down at the sand. “I’ll answer any questions you have buddy, but first, I need to call your mom. She’s pretty freaked out right now.”

  I put my arm around Eugene, and we walked back to the spot where his backpack and the metal box waited. Seagulls attacked the backpack, and though they cried out in protest, I waved them away. We sat down, and I pulled my phone out of my pocket to call Rosalyn. She picked up before it had a chance to ring.

  “Jax?”

  “I’ve got him. He’s safe.”

  “Oh my God! Where is he? Is he okay? Is he hurt? Does he have a jacket?”

  “He’s fine. Just upset is all.”

  Her voice was frantic. “Where are you? I’m coming there right now.”

  “No, you’re not coming here, Rosalyn. I had a hunch that he was at Mavericks, and here he is.”

  “Mavericks! You mean in Half Moon Bay? That’s fifty miles away. What is he—” she said and then started crying again. “How did he get there? Oh, my God, he could’ve been killed.”

  “I’ll bring him home. We’ll leave in a few minutes.”

  “Let me talk to him,” she demanded.

  “I’m bringing him home after we talk,” I said. “And Rosalyn, he’s got this metal box …”

  That’s when I thought Rosalyn was going to come unglued. “No! Oh no. This is terrible. Jax, you can’t let him open that box.”

  “It’s too late for that.”

  She broke down in sobs.

  “Rosalyn, calm down. He’s safe. We’ll be home in an hour.”

  “Take care of my baby. Make sure he’s warm. I’ll see you guys at home.” I hung up.

  Eugene heard the entire exchange.

  “My mom upset?” he said, looking up at me sheepishly. I wasn’t about to start hiding things from him. He had a right to the truth.

  “I guess you could say that. She hasn’t been too honest with you, has she?”

  “Nope.”

  “You’re one tough kid, being out in this storm. How’d you get here anyway?”

  He looked away. “The bus.” I sagged with relief. For a second I thought maybe he’d hitchhiked. The responsibility and worry of being a parent hit me hard.

  “So, you want to talk about what’s in that box?”

  He started hiccupping and crying and handed me the letter.

  I read the letter, barely able to hold back tears myself. When I was done, I carefully folded it and placed it back in the envelope. “Your mom thought she was doing the right thing,” I said, clasping m
y arms over my legs and looking out to the ocean. “I missed your mom so much when she left, and then she only just got in touch with me last week. Sucks being lied to, doesn’t it?”

  He brushed his hair away from his eyes, looked at me, and nodded. “Why’d she lie to me?”

  “Buddy, I know we’ve got a lot of ground to cover here, but I want you to know that your mom loves you. And I love your mom.”

  Eugene studied me, his eyes puffy, expecting me to go on.

  “It’s got to be a shock finding out you have a dad. Heck, it was a shock for me too, finding out I have a son. If I’d have known about you …” I covered my eyes. “If I’d have known your mom was pregnant, there would’ve been no way I would’ve let her out of my sight. I love her. And I know you and me are strangers in a way.” Eugene looked at me with those green eyes. “You know, when I first laid eyes on you, I couldn’t believe how much you look like my brother. I was mad. I was so mad at your mom for keeping you from me, but I guess we’ve all got to start where we are in life and move forward from there.”

  “But my mom’s kind of older than you.”

  “Yeah, she is, isn’t she?”

  Eugene looked at me expectantly.

  “All I can tell you is that love doesn’t recognize the age of the person who grabs your heart.”

  “How’d it happen?”

  How did it happen? How was I supposed to explain to Eugene that Rosalyn and I had an affair when I was so young? I made small circles in the sand with my finger. “Your mom moved back to Point Loma from Santa Fe when she was thirty, and when I saw her, it was like a beautiful mermaid floated into my life. She’d grown up close to my mom—they were friends, but she was a stranger to me. I gave her surf lessons, and we hung out, and we became friends. And then, we became more than friends.”

  His eyebrows shot up. “My mom surfed?”

  I smiled. “Yep. Your mom surfed.”

  “When she left, didn’t you try to find her?”

  “Of course I did. But she did a good job of hiding.” I looked Eugene in the eye. “If I’d have known about you, I would’ve been your dad this whole time. I’m still not over that.” I squeezed my eyes tight. A montage of moments I’d missed with Eugene flashed before my eyes; Eugene’s birth, Eugene as a baby, Eugene’s bright, shiny face lit with excitement when his mom gave him the guitar, and the things I wanted to give him: Christmas presents for my boy, summer vacations together, teaching my son to surf. I wanted to give him a good life. A life that included a father who loved him.

  Eugene dropped his shoulders, his spine bowed, and he looked at the sand. “Is my mom really dying?”

  I gently placed my hand on his back. “That’s what the doctors seem to think. But she’s planning to try a new treatment that has a pretty good success rate. And you and me, we’re going to do everything we can to help your mom. Deal?”

  He nodded.

  I picked up the photo of Rosalyn holding Eugene when he was a baby. A wave of grief passed over me thinking again about all I had missed. But I had to put that aside for now. I took a deep, calming breath. Looking at the photo, I said, “You were kind of a dorky looking kid.”

  “Was not.”

  “Were too.”

  “Was not!”

  “Were too.”

  We smiled at each other.

  “So, what’s it like riding the bus in the middle of the night?”

  He gave a weak smile. “Kinda creepy.”

  “Always wanted to ride a bus to Mavs. How many’d you have to take?”

  “Four.”

  My eyebrows shot upward. “Pretty brave in that storm.”

  “I’m stronger than my mom thinks. I can do a lot more than she thinks.”

  I couldn’t wait to get to know Eugene and find out all he was capable of.

  I picked up the picture of Rosalyn, Tyler, and me. “I remember the day this was taken.” I covered my eyes. “Damn, I miss my brother. But you know what? Sometimes life has plans for us that we would never choose. Things really suck then something good happens. And you know what I think?”

  “What?”

  “I think this is a really good morning to talk your mom into letting you learn to surf.”

  “You think?”

  I scanned the horizon. “Wave’s aren’t any good here. Let’s go. We’ve got a hysterical mother to get home to.”

  We walked to the truck. I bundled Eugene into my jacket, turned the heat on in the truck, and he slept on the ride back to Pleasure Point. When we arrived, Rosalyn waited on the front porch, her face blotchy from crying. Her arms hugged her body tightly. When I put the truck in park, she sprinted to the passenger side door and flung it open.

  “Oh my God!” she said, pulling Eugene into a hug. “Let me look at you. Are you hurt?”

  Eugene’s eyes studied the ground. “I’m okay, mom.”

  I gave Rosalyn a look. “I think you two need to talk.”

  When we were in the house, Rosalyn demanded that Eugene get into a warm shower while she fixed him hot cocoa. I cornered Rosalyn in the kitchen and said, “He just wants you to be honest with him. We both read the letter, and he went through your journal. Eugene wants you to trust him. How about I go surfing and leave you two alone to talk?”

  She sagged against me, and I put my arms around her. She felt fragile, but there was a warmth and a vibrance to her as well. “Okay.” She gazed up at me with those big brown eyes.

  “I know you can do this, Roz.”

  Rosalyn bit her lower lip. “But what am I going to say?”

  “You’re going to tell him the truth.”

  She shifted from foot to foot. “I don’t know if—”

  I held her by the shoulders. “You can.”

  “But I’ve already messed things up so bad.” Rosalyn dropped her head, avoiding eye contact.

  “This is your chance to make things right.”

  Her eyes met mine imploringly. “Can’t you do it?”

  “Rosalyn, listen to me.” I held her head in my hands forcing her to look me in the eye. “You’re his mom. Eugene loves you. He just wants the truth.”

  She took a deep breath. “Jax, thank you again.”

  I kissed the tip of her nose and went outside to wax up my board.

  Rosalyn

  Eugene was sulking when he emerged from the shower and came into the kitchen. He’d barely look at me. “Come here, baby,” I said. I hugged him. His body was stiff, his eyes downcast. “I’m so sorry about all this.” Eugene didn’t say a word. “Sit down, let me make you breakfast. Anything you want.” He slunk over to the table, noisily pulled a chair out, and busied himself with petting Leo.

  I stared at my son then jumped in to preparing breakfast, as though this small activity would erase the gravity of what I’d done. I’d lied to Eugene. All his life, I’d lied to him.

  I prepared Eugene’s favorite breakfast foods: French toast with cinnamon and honey and hot cocoa. I poured the steaming cocoa into a Scooby Doo mug. My hands shook so badly that I nearly spilled the drink when I placed it in front of him.

  How to explain that I’d had sex with Jax? That he’d been my friend Lydia’s son? That he’d been off limits?

  Eugene’s bony fingers gripped the mug, and he took a sip of cocoa, his dark, wet hair slicked back from his face.

  I sat in the seat opposite him. I cleared my throat. “So, what’s Mavericks like?”

  He glanced up. “It’s okay. Waves weren’t big. Kinda cold and grey.”

  I dropped my gaze. “Honey, I am so sorry.”

  Eugene sat up straight. “When were you gonna tell me?”

  “Well,” I inspected my cuticles. “I planned on doing that this week.”

  “Really?”

  I expelled a breath. “No. The thing is … I guess I was chickening out.” I looked into his eyes. “When this whole thing happened between Jax and me, I knew it was wrong, but we were friends. We still are. At least we’re picking up where we left off
.”

  His green eyes were slits. “He’s been here over a week. So, why didn’t you tell me?”

  I folded a dish towel on the table, examining it carefully. “Because, I wasn’t proud of what I did. I had sex with someone who was much younger than me, the son of a close friend.” Eugene was thirteen and probably knew more than I thought about sex, but my face still turned crimson.

  He stood up, and Leo flew off his lap. “You liar!”

  I jumped up to soothe him, but he wrenched free, running for the living room. I caught him mid stride, my arms circling him. “Sweetie, I’m so, so sorry.”

  His body thrashed and bucked. “Leave me alone. I can’t trust you. How do I know anything you say’s true?”

  I forced my face in front of Eugene’s. Our eyes met. “You don’t know. You have every right to be mad at me. I didn’t tell you because, oh honey, I was so ashamed.”

  “Of me?”

  I gripped him tightly. “Of course not you. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

  “You lied to me.”

  “I know I did.”

  “And you lied to Jax.”

  “I did.”

  Tears filled his eyes, his voice choked. “I have a real dad. He could’ve been here with us the whole time.”

  Nausea filled my stomach and the room spun. “Sweetie, I thought I was doing the right thing.”

  Eugene’s knees buckled, and he slumped to the floor. “I was so stupid for believing you. I knew something was wrong.”

  And that’s when I understood the impact of my lie. I had hurt my child. Badly. But I had to keep it together for his sake. “Honey? Please, please let me make this right.” He peeked up at me, and in that moment, I saw a glimmer of hope. I held my hand out, and Eugene took it. “Let’s talk. I’ll answer any questions you want to ask.” I led him into the kitchen, and we sat down at the table. Eugene eyed me warily. I cleared my throat and took a sip of water. “Maybe you want to start?”

  His green eyes narrowed. “Why’d you leave Jax? Like, when you knew you were pregnant?”

  I rubbed my hands against my dress. “I thought I was doing the right thing. Jax was only nineteen. There was no way he was ready to be a dad.” I felt like a child again, trying to explain to my parents that I didn’t steal the milk money.