Pleasure Point: The Complete Series

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Pleasure Point: The Complete Series Page 61

by Evans, Jennifer


  The Jet Ski patrol sprang into action, racing through the trough of water, looking for signs of Jax’s surfboard.

  We scanned the ocean frantically and there it was; Jax’s red surfboard was tombstoning, pointing straight at the sky. He was at least 20 feet below the surface. I imagined Jax holding his breath as the icy ocean swirled around him. Please. Oh God, please let him survive. The safety patrol waited for a lull, and miraculously Jax popped up, his hand in the air as the Jet Ski raced in. Jax climbed onto the sled with his surfboard, and they hightailed it to the safety of the deep water.

  I burst into tears. Eugene’s sweet face looked at me, and he squeezed my hand. “It’s okay, mom, my dad … he knows what to do. He’s gonna be okay.”

  Hearing Eugene use the word dad instantly flooded me with compassion and love for this little family of mine. “Oh, sweetheart, I know,” I said, hugging him hard.

  Butch touched my arm. “He’s going to be fine. He trains hard for this.”

  If I were there with Jax, I would’ve begged him to get out of the water. But I wasn’t. So, I took yet another toke of my parents’ sacred herb and tried to relax.

  There was a calm in between sets, and we found Jax in the crowd again. What is he doing? We watched him paddle out to the farther reaches of the ocean. Holy shit, he’s going to try for one of the bigger waves. No!

  And then there it was.

  Smoking a hundred pounds of my parent’s sacred herb in one sitting could not have prepared me for that wave. I would’ve taken another toke except that my breath came so fast I thought I would hyperventilate. It looked like a mountain range on rollers. It seemed to stretch five miles in either direction. Please, baby, don’t do this. Don’t drop into that wave. Please. I’ll do anything you want. I’ll take back all those years we were separated. I’ll find a way to turn back time. I’ll … what? There was nothing I could offer to make this different because this is who Jax was. Jax was the love of my life, the father of my child, my best friend, and Jax was a big wave surfer.

  He whipped his board around, and from my vantage point, it looked like he only stroked a couple of times. The next thing we knew, he was dropping into that horrifying wave. Nobody could make that. I held my breath as Eugene, Nelson, and I clutched hands. Butch’s eyes were wide as he hugged Summer close. The five of us held our breaths and watched Jax surf that monster. He shot down the face, and like a skier on a ski slope, S turned his board up and down the wave. His body was solid, strong, and balanced, and then he disappeared into the tube. For a terrible moment, I thought I’d never see him again … and then there he was, shooting out of the tube, a huge spume of white water and violent ocean spurting him out to the raucous whoops and hollers, laughter and cheers from everyone gathered. He lifted his arms up in the air, and even from that far away, I swear I could hear him yelling and screaming in excitement.

  “Right on!” Eugene yelled as he turned to Nelson for a high five. Then Eugene hugged me hard. “I knew he’d be okay, mom. That’s my dad!”

  Butch raised one fist high up in the air. “Yes! That’s my man. What a ride.” And then he hugged Summer whose knees looked like they were about to buckle.

  I exhaled hard, and my body went so limp that I actually dropped my joint. Then the five of us jumped, hugged and danced right there on the cliff overlooking the vast Pacific Ocean as the waves continued to slam the rocky coastline.

  “Oh, baby, you did it!” Warmth radiated through my body as happy tears streamed down my cheeks.

  The wave, measured at fifty-two feet, turned out to be one of the biggest waves of the day.

  Jax

  About a week after our trip to Mavericks, Rosalyn went back to working part-time. I had the house to myself and sat on the porch swing mentally planning dinner. Eugene and I had taken to teaming up in the kitchen and I was impressed with his vast knowledge of vegan cooking. Can’t say I really had a hankering for his cashew cheese fake macaroni and cheese, but I was coming around.

  My phone rang. It was the realtor.

  I snatched up the phone. “Hello.”

  “Hey there. It’s been a zoo around here. Have I told you before how happy I am you decided to sell?” She didn’t need to tell me. If she made the sale, the transaction would put her on the map of celebrity sales. “Once I listed it on the MLS, the backlist of prospects who’d been interested were all over it.”

  My foot stopped the swing. “Do you have an offer?”

  “Multiple offers. As in three, but only one of them seems qualified. Naturally, I have to present all offers.”

  Blood prickled my skin. The reality of someone taking over my brother’s home meant the end of an era. “Who are they?”

  “One’s an investor, one wants to turn the home into a vacation rental, and one wants to live there full time. The investor doesn’t have enough money down, the one who’s considering the house for a vacation rental needs to sink a ton into the renovations she’s got in mind. The last one’s an author and screenwriter from Santa Monica who’s tired of the hustle and bustle. Ever heard of a series of books and TV show called Where Are They Now?”

  “Can’t say that I have.”

  “It’s wildly popular. She follows famous musicians and artists throughout their career. She already sent over proof of funds for a cash offer. Jax, the woman is loaded.” She giggled. “Oh listen to me, sounding star-struck. She’s worth around fifteen million.”

  I let out a low whistle. “Sounds qualified to me.” I felt an unexpected release of tension and flopped back into the swing. Sandy would get her money.

  “You betcha. I’ll email all three offers over when we hang up. I think you’ll want to go with the cash offer. She wants a ten day escrow.”

  I stood up and walked the length of the porch. “I can’t see any reason why not.”

  When we hung up the phone, I sat on the porch steps and stared at my phone. The email came through within seconds and sure enough, it had three attachments with offers on Tyler’s home.

  After I accepted the offer, I waited as long into the week as I could bear to call Sandy. By then the money had been transferred to escrow and we were on our way to a deal.

  When Sandy answered the phone, I heard the rush of traffic and music in the background. “Hang on a sec,” she said. There was the rustle of her hand over the phone and her son’s voice.

  “I’ll see you in an hour, mom.”

  “Bye, honey.” Then her voice was strong in my ear. “Do I need to pull my car over for this conversation?”

  “If you want to. It’s good news.”

  “Really? How good of news? Are you coming back to work for me? That would be good news.”

  “I’ve got your money. I sold the house.”

  Sandy turned her radio off. “Really? Well, that’s great.” She paused. “And don’t forget about the interest. That means an extra three grand.” She smirked. “You mean to tell me you actually sold a desert house? I’m a beach person myself, but to each his own. When can you transfer the money?”

  “Escrow closes in a few days.”

  Her laugh was low and throaty. “I don’t know if I can wait that long, lover boy. I might need a payment before then. How about you meet me at the Ritz tonight?”

  I couldn’t help but smile. “I’ll have to say no. But Sandy, thank you for loaning me the money.”

  “If you really appreciated it, you’d be right here by my side where you belong. You know, I can’t stop thinking about that sexy body of yours and the way you like to fuck me hard.”

  I nearly blushed. “I can’t believe you talked me into that crazy scheme.”

  “You’re good at it. The girls and I won’t be able to replace you anytime soon. If you ever need a part-time job …”

  “Thanks, but no thanks.”

  “Have it your way, surfer boy. I’ll email you the bank wire instructions.”

  “Sandy, can I ask you something?”

  “Shoot.”

  “Were
you really planning on going to the surf community?”

  “Maybe I was, maybe I wasn’t. You’re super sexy, but when it comes to cash, I live by a different set of rules. Just make sure you have that money to me when escrow closes. Remember that I’m first in line.”

  I turned on the charm. “You were always first in line. If I ever decide to make a movie about my life, you get star billing.”

  “Promises, promises. All I want is your body and my cash. I suppose I’ll have to settle for one out of two. Goodbye, Jax. Next time you’re in So. Cal., look me up.”

  I told her I would, but knew I wouldn’t. I exhaled months of stress into the phone.

  Escrow closed that week.

  Sandy and I were even.

  I could finally walk away from my past, free and clear.

  Rosalyn

  “Smile!” I blinked rapidly when a flash blinded my vision.

  A month had passed since Jax had ridden the biggest wave of his life at Mavericks. Jax, Eugene and I made the trip to southern California and stood in the reception area of the Anaheim convention center, the venue for the Billabong XXL Big Wave Awards. A reporter from Surfer magazine thrust a microphone into Jax’s face while her video camera operator stood to the side.

  “Jax! Who’s your companion?” Jax clutched my hand and squeezed tight. She motioned toward Eugene. “And who’s this handsome young man?” Eugene’s face lit up with enthusiasm. Our son enjoyed every second of the stardom that came with this crowd of professional big wave surfers. “The guys are total rock stars,” he had told me.

  Jax smiled. “This is Rosalyn, the love of my life. And this is my son, Eugene.”

  The reporter, a dark-haired beauty who looked like she spent most of her time working out, leaned into Jax, her skin inches from his. “What was it like riding that monster at Mavericks?”

  “Damn, it was crazy. You want the truth?” The reporter smiled and nodded. “At first, when I saw that wave, I didn’t know if I could ride it. I’d already paddled toward it, but had second thoughts. Seeing that baby jump and surge, I thought I was a goner. Nobody makes that. But then I whipped my board around and there wasn’t time to think about it.” Jax’s gaze strayed heavenward. “I went from a situation where I thought I was going to eat it, to riding that beauty, and thought, ‘I just caught the wave of my life!’” His eyes met mine. “Knowing that Rosalyn and Eugene were watching made it all worthwhile.”

  “What do you think your chances are of winning Ride of the Year?”

  “I think I’ve got a decent shot. But there’s some pretty gnarly surfers competing.”

  She smiled brightly. “Well, good luck!” she chimed before scanning the crowd for other competitors to interview.

  My heart swelled as I watched Eugene place a hand on his father’s arm. He looked up at Jax, his eyes filled with wonder. “Are we gonna be on TV?”

  Jax smiled. “Maybe. Come on, let’s get something to drink.” We made our way to the bar where Butch stood chatting it up with the bartender.

  Butch clapped Jax on the back. “Are you nervous?”

  “Nah.” Jax caught the bartender’s attention and ordered champagne for me and a soda for Eugene. He asked the bartender, “Has my friend been entertaining you with his jokes?”

  Butch said, “Don’t be making fun of my jokes. I haven’t even gotten started.” His smile stretched across his face. “Tonight’s all about fun. We’re here to celebrate.” He bent over, pulled up his pant leg and began the process of removing his fake leg. Eugene watched, his eyes wide. “This is a special night. I brought my extra fancy leg out for the occasion.” He placed the leg on the bar. “Fill ’er up with whatever you got on tap.”

  I tried not to stare at Butch’s leg. He was great at balancing on only one.

  The bartender glanced left then right. “Are you sure?”

  Butch reached into his pocket and extracted a crisp fifty dollar bill, laying it on the bar. “I’m sure.”

  The bartender filled up the leg and Butch held it aloft. “A toast. To Ride of the Year.” He took a long swig, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and passed the leg to Jax.

  “I never could resist your charm, buddy. Bottoms up.” Jax took an extra long swallow and passed the leg to me.

  I stared at the leg. Eugene said, “Come on, Mom. It’s good luck.” I accepted the leg and took a tiny sip.

  Butch said, “Come on Rosalyn, it’s vegan.” He scratched his head. “I know you don’t eat meat, but I’ve got a cannibal joke.” He gripped the side of the bar, balancing himself on one leg. “Two cannibals were eating a clown. One said to the other, does this taste funny?”

  Jax groaned. “Rosalyn, take a sip of that thing and pass it back to me quick. I need to numb myself before Butch tells another joke.”

  Several surfers crowded in as we passed the leg around; everyone joked and drank until the leg was empty. The prosthesis was passed back to Butch, who hoisted his hollow leg into the air. “May the best man win!”

  We found seats in the auditorium and the lights dimmed.

  The master of ceremonies, a man who looked more like a young Brad Pitt than a big wave surfer, took the stage. “Welcome everyone.” His eyes scanned the audience. “Boy, are you all looking young. It must be all that time you spend in the ocean.” His eyes twinkled into the bright lights. “Tonight, we’re here to honor these awesome athletes who spend their days riding big waves. I always say, ‘Give a man a surfboard, and you’ve distracted him for the day. Teach a man to surf, and you can’t get him to work.’” A ripple of laughter moved through the crowd. “Tonight we’ll see footage of this year’s best rides in the sport of big wave surfing. And if you think these guys don’t work for a living, think again when you see the prize money. Somebody’s going to walk away with fifty grand for Ride of the Year.”

  A humongous movie screen scrolled down from the ceiling. Techno music blared through the auditorium as highlights from the best rides of the year flashed on the display. I squeezed Jax’s hand tightly. Entries for Paddle-In Award, Tube Award, and Performance Award exploded in living color. Then, the Wipeout of the Year entries flashed across the screen. My chest constricted as I watched surfers on fifty-foot waves wipe out, their tiny rag doll bodies head over heels as they shot over the falls. The mother in me screamed, Hold your breath! Eugene’s eyes widened, a grin on his face.

  And then, there was Jax, his red surfboard shooting over the lip of that gargantuan wave at Mavericks. Eugene tugged on my sleeve. “There he is.”

  Jax caught me staring at him and snaked an arm around my shoulder. “Don’t look so worried.” I rubbed sweaty palms against my dress, wishing I could toke up right there.

  When the movie finished, the Master of Ceremonies announced the winners for various categories. As he announced each winner, surf music blasted and the audience broke into frenzied applause.

  When it was finally time to announce the winner for Ride of the Year I could barely breathe. I knew how much this award meant to Jax.

  The Brad Pitt look-alike gripped his microphone. “And now, ladies and gentlemen, the moment you’ve all been waiting for. Every year, these professionals put their lives on the line in the name of the biggest achievement in the sport of big wave surfing, Ride of the Year. All year long, they leave their families behind when big waves call. These brave souls paddle out into monster swells in hopes of riding the biggest and the best, and doing it with style. I couldn’t be more proud to introduce you to our contestants. The nominees for Ride of the Year are …”

  The movie screen came to life again with the entries. We watched footage of the surfers hanging on for dear life as this fearsome force of nature nearly wiped the poor souls off the face of the earth. I covered my face with one hand and gripped Jax’s hand with the other. “… Mark Roth at Punta de Lobos, Grant “Slim” Wright at Pe’ahi and Jax Priest at Mavericks.”

  I peeked at Butch and Jax. They stared at the screen as though hypnotized.


  The movie screen faded to black and the room became silent. Just like at the Academy Awards, a flashy blond wearing a full-length sparkly silver dress handed an envelope to the presenter.

  “And the winner is …” He extracted a card from the envelope. He studied the card and smiled. His voice boomed. “Grant Wright at Pe’ahi!”

  My breath hitched and I swallowed hard. My voice was soft. “No.” Poor Jax. I knew how much this meant to him.

  Jax and Butch leapt to their feet, their applause loud, then Jax placed both fingers in his mouth and let out a wolf whistle that nearly broke my eardrum. I stood up on shaky legs, and Eugene clambered onto his chair, clapping wildly. “Way to go Grant!” Jax shouted. He turned to me and embraced me so hard I thought I’d break. Then he slapped Eugene five. “Grant’s the best!”

  Butch caught my eye and gave me a thumbs up.

  I looked at Jax, this man I loved, and threw my arms around his neck. I whispered in his ear. “Oh honey, I knew how much you wanted to win.”

  He kissed my cheek, and then gazed at me with those hypnotic blue eyes. “Rosalyn, you and Eugene are the best prize I could ever hope for.”

  “Better than Ride of the Year?”

  “A zillion times better.”

  Jax, Eugene, and I held hands as Grant took the stage. The flashy blond placed a purple lei around his neck, the photographers went wild, and the presenter shook his hand. The lovely blond assistant handed the surfer a king-sized likeness of a check for fifty-grand. The emcee shoved a microphone into his face. “Any words of wisdom for us mere mortals?”

  Grant Wright was a thirty-something athlete whose wild dreadlocks cascaded over his shoulders and down his back. “Thank you. Hey everybody. I just want to thank all the little people …” He smiled broadly. “Seriously guys, this has got to be the best night of my life. Me and all my big wave surfing buddies put our lives on the line for this sport we love and we’d do it even without the prize money.” He addressed a woman who sat in the front row. “Mom, thanks for being here tonight. You usually sit these things out. I guess ever since I was a kid and you caught me walking that fifth story ledge of the hotel when we were on vacation in Panama, well, I suppose that’s when you knew your son was trouble.” He scanned the audience. “I’d like to commend my fellow competitors for Ride of the Year, Mark Roth and Jax Priest.” He shaded his eyes with one hand, peering into the bright lights. “Stand up guys. Mark, I really thought you had this one, buddy. You want to know how many times I watched your video entry?” Jax let loose with another wolf whistle. “And Jax, when I saw you ride that macker at Mavericks, I thought, no way could anybody make that wave. But you rode it with style and I’m proud to say I get to paddle out with you. Just don’t expect to slaughter me at the dart board like last time.” He winked. “I’ve been practicing.”

 

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