by Bebe Wilde
He shook his head.
“You listen to me and you listen good,” I said and pointed a finger in his direction. “I stayed because I love you. That’s the only reason why I’ve put up with all your bullshit for years. Because I love you. But did it ever occur to you that it might eventually get old?”
He nodded slightly. “I see your point and I totally understand where you’re coming from. I want to do something different; I want things to get better between us.” He pulled something out of the back pocket of his jeans. “You’re right about the impasse. So, I got this friend of mine to draw up some plans for an addition to our house.” He held the paper out to me.
I went over and took it, then looked the plans over. The plans were drawn up by hand but very detailed with measurements and everything. I immediately understood that whoever had drawn them knew what they were doing and that they had basically turned our little bungalow into a two-story modern day beach house. It was very well executed. Wow. It was gorgeous.
“We have a good sized lot, so he said we could pull it off and even put in a that little lap pool you always wanted,” he said, very proud of himself for being proactive. “We would build up and add a second floor. The whole downstairs would just be the kitchen and the living room, with a little half bath, too.”
“Wow,” I said. “This is very well thought-out.” And it was. It was like a professional had done it or something.
“And, as you can see with the addition of two extra bedrooms, there’s plenty of room for a bambino or a bambina.”
“But no money to pay for it,” I said.
He shook his head. “That’s where you’re mistaken. I called my mom. She’s down to help us. Apparently she’s going through some phase where she wants a grandbaby. Yes, she actually said the word grandbaby, which was weird. But, hey, whatever.”
“Cool,” I said as I always liked his mom. I studied the house plan again and smiled. This might work. It would be a shame to walk away from such a great location. I had to smile at him. “Okay, you’ve got my attention.”
He grinned back. “I knew I would. Bernie said that it wouldn’t cost that much to build, either. I mean, it will cost a lot, but he’s got a house we can stay in while it’s being done. He knows all kinds of contactors and all that.”
“Who’s Bernie?” I asked and sat down beside him.
“He’s a friend,” he said.
“I know all of your friends,” I said, looking at the house plans again.
“Not him,” he said. “He’s never comes over to the house because he always has to go to work. He’s not like the rest of the guys. He works all the time.”
I turned and stared at him. “You know an actual grownup?”
“Yeah, he’s got a wife and kids and everything,” he said. “And his own construction firm. He’s an architect, too. He’s actually pretty big shit. You know all those women’s stores over on that fancy street?”
I stared at him. “Rodeo Drive?”
He nodded. “He’s done some remodeling over there. And he’s built that one building… That bank building somewhere downtown, the one that looks all funky but really cool?”
Oh, that one? That architecturally significant building that got write ups in major architectural magazines and had hour-long specials about it on news shows? That one? That one everyone talked about for the two years it took to construct it? Yeah, I knew that one. I knew, also, that I should have been happy that a well-known and respected and famous architect had drawn up our house plans. However, I knew there was a lot more going on and it was beginning to make me angry. Suddenly, I got a glimpse of what Bear had been doing while I had been working. I knew just where this was headed. Even so, I held my anger back and said, “Just how did you two meet?”
“Oh, he was out trying to surf one morning and nearly killed himself,” he said, chuckling. “His doctor told him he needed a recreational activity to deal with all the stress he was getting from work, so he took up surfing.”
Yeah, that made sense. Nothing like falling off a surfboard to get the stress out.
“Anyway, he rode his board out to shore and crashed into the beach. He was being such barney. He knocked the wind out of himself and looked pretty banged up. I went over to help him and gave him a good scolding about doing that. It can fuck you up. It’s all in the dismount.” He nodded at me knowingly before continuing, “You have to know when to bail. So, we started talking and I offered to give him some lessons and we became pretty good friends.”
Was that so?
“Now he can hang-ten,” he said, grinning. “But he was hard to teach. He kept wanting to lean down, like with his knees for leverage. I told him to stop that shit and to straighten up. How would you even enjoy that? He looked like an animal taking a shit in the woods.”
Okay. I almost cracked up. Almost. “Did you tell him that?”
“I did,” he said. “That’s when he finally got it. See, you have to trust the water. If you got no trust, you got nothing.”
Well, that was certainly true. I took a breath and said, “So you, a former world champion surfer, gave this big architect, who is probably a multi-millionaire, free lessons?” I asked. “In other words, you taught him how to surf for free?”
“Yeah, I guess I did,” he said. “That’s what friends do, isn’t it?”
“Perhaps. But did it ever occur to you to charge him for your time?” I asked. “For your knowledge?”
He shrugged and shook his head. “Nope. Why would I do that?”
“How many other people have you coached over the years?” I asked.
“A few,” he said, considering. “That one guy that produces all of those movies where people go to war with animals that are intellectually superior to humans? What’s his name? Oh, Harris O’Connell?”
I’d heard of him and his movies. Yeah. He was a big shot, too. “Anyone else?”
He named a few other significant men, one a very significant jeweler, all of them very wealthy, and even a few women, one who owned a giant real estate agency. I knew then what was going on. Word had spread about Bear Aurelius Dillon giving free surf lessons. When Bear Aurelius Dillon should have been out getting a fucking job!
I handed the house plans back to him and said, “Here, take it.”
“What?” he asked, looking slightly taken aback. “Why are you acting like that?”
“Why am I acting like this? You don’t even get it, do you?”
He just stared at me. He didn’t get it.
“This is what you’re doing all day while I’m out working, right? You never even mentioned knowing these kinds of people. Did you ever think I might like to meet them or something? Quinn has a staging business! These people are always buying and selling their homes! You could have done her a real solid by giving her an introduction or two.”
He shrugged. “I just didn’t think you’d be interested in meeting them. I didn’t think it was that big of a deal. Besides, this is not about business. It’s just about surfing.”
“You had an opportunity to make a shitload of money right in front of your face and you ignored it!” I said, glaring at him. “You taught rich guys how to surf for free when you could have been charging them! Do you know how many people would pay for you, and pay you well, to teach them to surf?”
“I don’t know,” he said, almost inaudibly.
“A lot!” I yelled, becoming so enraged I almost wanted to hit him. “Like everyone who ever wanted to learn how to surf would pay you! Did these big shots ever offer to pay you?”
“Yeah, all the time,” he said. “But I didn’t want their money. I was just happy to do it. Learning to surf is something that should be free anyway.”
“Not if you don’t know how to do it, it’s not,” I said. “We’ve been struggling financially for years, with me making most of the money. And here you were giving away the milk for free.”
“I never slept with any of them,�
�� he said, trying to make a joke. “I don’t roll that way.”
“Don’t play stupid with me right now, Bear,” I hissed. “We can never get married and have kids! You’re too brainless!”
“Hey, I’ve asked you to marry me a thousand times,” he said.
“And did you ever buy me an actual engagement ring?” I asked, my face flushing with the anger I felt. “Did you give me a candlelit dinner? Or take me to a fancy restaurant? Or even down to the beach at sunset? No, you didn’t. You just thought it was enough to just say it, didn’t you?”
“But you never said yes,” he said quietly. “So, I was never able to give you the ring.”
“Whatever,” I said and groaned.
“Sorry,” he said. “I never thought about it like that. I guess I fucked up.”
“No, you didn’t think about it,” I said. “Because I’m not special enough for you to make the effort. But you would spend countless hours in the ocean teaching complete strangers to surf, wouldn’t you?”
“Oh, come on, that’s not true,” he said. “That’s not true at all. You’re more important than any of them.”
“Really? I am?” I asked, almost on the verge of tears, feeling so hurt I would probably be crying for days. “Well, I certainly don’t feel that way, Bear. I always feel like I come second to your surfing. Sorry, but I do. Maybe, if you’d ever made a romantic gesture just to let me know you cared, I’d let half of the stuff I get irritated about slide. Maybe if you had just once tried to make it up to me, I wouldn’t ride your ass at all!”
He hung his head in shame again. “It’s not true. I love you more than anything, more than surfing even. You have to know that.” He stared up at me.
“It is true,” I said as the tears finally released and slid down my cheeks. “You prove it time and time again. You’d rather give away free surf lessons to rich guys than help me out around the house. Would it have ever killed you to clean the bathroom or to do a load of laundry? Why not take a morning off from your free fucking surf lessons and go buy some groceries for your loser friends to eat? You sure as hell never bought me any!”
“But I cook for you all the time,” he said quietly.
“Yes, and you leave me a big mess to clean up, too, don’t you?” I said, shaking my head at him. “We don’t even have a dishwasher! I’m the dishwasher!” I paused and took a breath and wiped my face off with the back of my hand. “I am just so sick of you.”
“Come on,” he said. “I’ll do better.”
“You won’t because you can’t,” I said. “Because all you think about is yourself and the fucking ocean. Fuck you and fuck all of this bullshit. I can make it on my own. I don’t need you. I never did. I stayed with you because I loved you. That was all. I didn’t give a shit about your surfer glory or who the fuck you were. I loved you. And all you ever did was treat me like dirt.”
“That is not true,” he said, his eyes tearing up. “Please don’t do this, Willa. I love you more than anything.”
“No, you don’t,” I said. “You love surfing more than anything. In fact, I’ve heard you say those very words. So, I hope you and surfing are very happy together.”
“Come on,” he said. “I’ll do anything.”
“I wouldn’t ask you to,” I said. “I should have stayed with Jed. I know that now. Let me tell you one thing. If we hadn’t had sex that morning, I would have gone back to him. If you hadn’t been so good in the sack, I would have left and never looked back. So thank your dick for all the good years you got out of me.”
“Please don’t say that,” he said. “I’ll quit surfing, I promise.”
“I would never ask you to do that,” I said. “I wouldn’t even think of it because all it would be down the road is how I made you give it up and how much you hate me for it. But what you don’t realize is that is that you could have always surfed and had me, too. But you fucked it up by being lazy and inconsiderate.”
He looked away from me.
“I never wanted you to give up surfing,” I said. “All I ever wanted you to do was make room for me in your life, too. That’s all, Bear, that’s all I ever wanted.”
That really got to him. Actual tears began to stream down his cheeks. He was crying. I’d reduced him to this. Good. I’d cried over him myself before. I was crying now! He should know what it felt like.
“Please don’t go back to Jed,” he said. “Please don’t leave me for him.”
“He doesn’t even want me!” I yelled.
“He does,” he said. “He still does. He’s not over you. You’re all he talked about that day. I talked about you, too. But still.”
“Oh, you don’t have to worry about that,” I said and patted his shoulder. “You’ve ruined me on men. I don’t want another man—ever! Fuck all y’all!”
I knew I sounded a little like my mother. Yeah, but she had been right about men all along. She always said you can’t trust a man. And you can’t do anything with one, either. She knew my dad was only interested in hunting and fishing and that she’d never change him. Just like Bear was only interested in surfing. The only difference between us was that I had put up with it; I had foolishly thought I could change him, mold him, and make him into the man I wanted him to be.
I sighed and thought of all the bitching and moaning I’d done over the years and how it never produced any real results. Everything always stayed the same. I’d bitch and he’d pretend to listen, then pretend to do better and the next thing I knew, we’d be right back where we started. After a while, I gave up. And the thing was, I didn’t want to change him. I just wanted him to be a better man. I wanted him to want to do better by me because I meant something to him, because I was so special to him that he had to do better just to please me, just to prove that he could and that he wanted to. But that was never going to happen. And it would never happen because he would never change. He thought he was prefect and to an outside observer, he certainly seemed that way. But I knew he wasn’t. He was far from it.
He just stared at me. I saw all of his pain and sadness, all a byproduct of my mean words. But I didn’t care. It didn’t faze me one iota. This was the straw that had finally broken the camel’s back. He’d brought this on himself.
I went to the door and held it open. “Get out and stay out. I never want to see you ever again.”
His face dropped and I could tell he knew I was serious. Sure, I’d been gone from the house for a few days but I knew he’d find me. I knew we’d probably make up and we’d go on. That was, until now. This was different; it felt different. It was over and he was leaving. This was it. It was too painful to live the way we’d been living. I wanted to move forward but he wanted to hold me back. I was breaking free of that, at the cost of our relationship, at the cost of our love. It was sad but true that even love couldn’t overcome this.
“I mean it,” I said. “Get out, Bear. Leave.”
He started out, then paused. “Let me just say this, okay? I know I’ve fucked everything up and I’ve fucked it up good. I get that. But what if I made it up to you?”
“If you were going to make it up to me,” I said. “You already would have. You’re incapable.”
“I am not incapable,” he said. “I am very capable.”
“Nope,” I said, shaking my head. “Not buying it.”
“Come on, baby,” he said. “Let’s not do this.”
“It has to be done,” I said. “I can’t live like this any longer, Bear. You won’t grow up. You won’t change. And I’m not going to be the bad guy bitching and moaning all the time, nagging your ass. I hate that. I shouldn’t have to do that. But you always put me in that position.”
“I guess I do,” he said and wiped at his eyes. “So, fine, Willa, fuck it then. We’re done. Update all your social media! It’s fucking complicated! Or tell everyone you’re single or whatever it is they say on there!”
“It’s always complicated with you,” I said, glaring
at him.
“Fine,” he said. “Bye-bye to our life. But it’s on you!”
“It’s on me,” I said and shook my head at him. “Now get the hell out of here.”
He stared at the open door, then at me. We were so close I could hear his breathing, smell his cologne. I suddenly thought about how it would be from now on without him in my life and I wanted to burst into tears again. But I’d do that after he left.
“You need to go,” I said quietly. “I mean it, Bear.”
He started out, then stopped. Before I even knew what he was doing, he bent down and brushed his lips across mine.
“No,” I said and pushed at him, taking my hand off the door. It slammed shut. I had to get it open again. “We’re not having sex.”
“Why not? What’s one more time?”
“Because you know I won’t be able to resist,” I said and turned and tried to get the door open again so I could shove him out of it. “It’s not happening. This has been painful enough! We are done!”
He didn’t answer. He just slipped his arms around me and refused to let me move. I struggled against him and tried for the door again, to no avail. His lips were on mine, crushing against mine, forcing my mouth open. I kept my mouth clamped shut, refusing to give in, refusing to let him kiss me. He grabbed at my breasts. I slapped his hands away. Nope, not doing that either. His mouth was back on mine, moving, kissing, sucking gently but with urgency. He was a good kisser, too good a kisser. That’s the only reason I fell for him in the first place because he knew how to kiss so well. His kisses could melt the hearts of even the most hardened bitches. He wasn’t about to melt mine, though. No, not this time. I wasn’t having it.
“Stop it,” I said as I came up for air. I pulled back and slapped at him. He ignored me and grabbed my arms and pulled them together. Then he stopped moving. I stopped moving. This was it. He was going to let me make the call. Move forward? Or move apart?
“It’s your call, Willa,” he said softy.
His eyes implored me to let him stay. His eyes begged me to let him kiss me. His eyes yearned to have me tell him I wanted him. And I did. I wanted him so much, so badly I ached. I’d been aching since I’d left the house that night. His eyes gave me pause, that’s what they did.