I feel my chest swell. The image of my father—strong and vibrant—fills me with a certain kind of pride and security. Dad can still rip.
“Is this the right spot?” Kai asks. He looks down the shore, uncertain.
“Nah, man, we not doing that again. Every time we paddle to another peak we miss it.”
Bert and Kai start to squabble, and Stone turns his attention to me.
“It’s nice to see you out here,” he says. “You come on the weekends these days?”
I shake my head. It’s wild to me that he doesn’t know I don’t surf anymore, that I haven’t been out since it was us together. That to me the water is ours when it so clearly isn’t for him.
And then I hear Bert shout. “Oui!”
A wave is incoming. Stone and Kai paddle into it.
“Ho!” Stone says, warning Kai not to drop in on him.
I duck-dive under the wave and come up to see Stone riding it in.
“Dude!” Bert says. He looks at me sympathetically.Better luck next time.
I spit out some salt water and keep my eye on the horizon.
The second wave of the set comes in. I start to paddle against it, hard as I can.
“All yours,” Kai says. “Let’s go, surfer girl!”
My arms move, I’m hardly looking, and then I feel that familiar hovering, and I put my hands on either side of the board and pop up into a crouch. I drop to the bottom after takeoff and then come up and hit the lip as I move down the line. I’m inside a wave for the first time in ten years, but I can’t even think about that—I can’t think about anything but my stance and core and the movement of the board.
I’m right here. And there is nothing but space. Even time doesn’t have a place here. It’s total and complete presence.That’swhy we love it. No past, no future. There isn’t even awareness. The second you think about anything but your breath, it’s over. But man, those few seconds. There’s nothing like it.
I fall into the water at the tail end, grateful for the refresh, and come up to see Stone paddling fast toward me.
“Shit,” Stone calls. “You been surfing in your dreams or something?” He reaches me, a little out of breath. “How long have you really been out of commission?”
I’m winded and shocked. I feel simultaneously wrung out and high on adrenaline. It was a tiny wave—not tunnel, but still. I forgot this hit. I forgot how good it is. There are no problems out here—no financial strain, no infertility, no husband across the country ignoring my text messages.
“I don’t know,” I say.
“Well, you killed that,” he says. “How did it feel?”
I shake my head, my breath still coming in fits and spurts. I pull myself up onto my board and straddle it. We’re getting tossed around by the break, but I don’t care. It feels great. No, it feels better than that. It feels like elation.
“Epic,” I say.
Stone reaches over and holds my board steady. I feel us begin to float together—whoosh whoosh whoosh. It sends me straight back to our last morning here.
We paddled out like we always did, first thing, before the sunrise. We were twenty-five then. We’d been surfing the same break for almost a decade, but since I’d gone to USC for college we’d been out less and less. I was out of practice; I wasn’t as in step with him as I used to be.
We’d been in bed that morning at Bonnie and Jeff’s house whenhe told me. Stone had the whole downstairs, and their place was and is spectacular. A thirty-million-dollar McMansion—a floor for everyone.
“I’m moving to Boulder,” he said. “I decided I’m going to do it.”
I remember not knowing what he meant. Move. Boulder. What?
We were naked. His chest was bare, and so was mine. He rolled onto his side and rubbed the curve of my back.
“I have to get out of here,” he said. “I want to start Board Up, and I think I’ve figured out how there.”
