Page 24 of Terms Of Un-Endearment
What is wrong with me?
I can’t stop thinking about the bead of sweat I glimpsed trickling down her chest into the small rivet between her…
And there I go again.
I need to get in the oceannow. If Piper and I are going to live in this house together for two weeks—possibly longer if I can keep putting Dad off—I can’t think of her in any other way than as the annoying girl whose mother married my dad awhile back and is now unmarrying him for the price of my house.
After I check the surf report on my mobile, I backtrack through the kitchen to the gym. Piper’s leaning forward on a weight bench, her elbow on her knee doing bicep curls. I have a straight shot of her cleavage. I swallow hard and force my gaze to the surfboards and wetsuits hanging on the other side of the room.
“Just gonna grab a board!” I say too loudly, my entire focus on the opposite wall. “These aren't boards from any surf shop; they’re hand-shaped by the most talented blokes in the business. Can’t risk them getting stolen from the garage or an outdoor shed.”
I don’t understand why I feel I have to explain myself. Piper doesn’t know I’m thinking about her not being a kid anymore, and I sound like an idiot.
I pick out which board will work best on the low waves today, grab my wetsuit, and head for the door.
"Have a good surf," she says, breathing heavily.
Which really doesn’t help my focus.
It occurs to me that I could invite Piper to come with me. She used to surf. She might like to today. And while I was successful at avoiding her yesterday, that’s going to be more difficult for an entire two weeks.
I walk past her and pause, the invitation on the tip of my tongue when I change my mind. It’s better not to get too friendly. Andbestnot to give my addled brain anymore opportunities for inappropriate thoughts. I’m not sure what it might convince me of if I were to see Piper in a bikini.
Instead of an invitation, I tell her, “I moved out of the upstairs bathroom yesterday, so you have it to yourself. I’ll use the one down here.”
“I noticed. Thanks.”
I step outside and breathe in the salty air. The pebbled paving stones under my feet bring me back to myself. In the partially enclosed outdoor shower, I slip out of my trackies and into my wetsuit before carrying my board across the cold sand, damp from morning dew. It’s firm under my feet until I step into the water. The retreating tide tugs me in, welcoming me home.
I jump on my board, and as I paddle out to the lineup of other surfers, my whole body settles into the familiar exertionof swimming against incoming waves. Fighting the waves is useless. They will always be stronger. Patience is key. A couple meters forward, one back, a couple more forward. Eventually, I’ll get where I want to be.
After my convo with Dad, I’d spent most of yesterday squirreled away in my room working on my business plan but mostly avoiding Piper.
Today, I need the freedom the ocean provides. The Pacific stretches in front of me. There’s no start or finish to it. Just endless possibilities for new waves.
Being out here is what keeps me sane. Surfing reminds me that I don’t have control over the ocean, but that doesn’t mean I have to be pushed in any direction a wave takes me. Not out here.
I duck dive under a wave, its power surging over me. It’s not a big one, but still a thousand times stronger than me.
Conquering a wave isn’t about beating it. It’s not about making it smaller, about being bigger or stronger than it. Conquering a wave means letting go of resistance. Letting it move through you, around you, over you, until you find the place where you can ride it—dance with it. The wave still has all the power, but you’re the one in control.
And if I get pummeled by a wave, I can get back up. I can ride the next one.
When I reach the lineup to wait for my turn, I let the ocean rock me up and down. It occurs to me for the millionth time that surfing is similar to life. A lot of waiting, some ups, more downs, and every once in a while, everything falls into place for a perfect ride.
But a new similarity between life and surfing occurs to me for the first time. Maybe the realization is prompted by my saying no to Dad—I don’t know—but the thought occurs to me that for every person, there will always be something, somebodystronger. Somebody bigger. Somebody more powerful. There will always be some force that tries to move you, to act on you. That is, until you learn how to resist without resisting—how to be the one doing the acting, not being acted on.
Dad is that something and someone for me. And I've allowed him to be that sort of force for too long. It's time I quit letting him be the thing that moves me in life, that decides where I'm going, or what I'm going to do. This isn’t about Bombora or money or even Dad. It’s about the sort of man I want to be. A man who makes his own choices and his own success. Free of other people’s expectations and in my own power.
I spend the next few hours enjoying myself more than I have since Dad ordered me to sign the house back to him. By the time the waves fizzle in the Autumn sunshine, I've gotten what I needed from my surf session. Not the best waves ever, but maybe the best clarity I’ve had so far.
I head back to the house and peel off my wetsuit in the outside shower. After spraying it down and throwing it over the partition to dry before tomorrow, I rinse off in the cold water. The sun’s up, but there's a chilly breeze coming off the ocean that makes me shiver. I'm ready for a long, hot shower, a good cup of coffee, and some brekkie. If I ask nicely, maybe Piper will make me eggs again.
Water drips down my face as I reach for one of the beach towels that always hangs inside the shower. I’m met by air and empty hooks. I push back my hair and open one eye. No towels.
I check the bench where I left my trackies a couple hours ago when I got changed to surf. They’re gone, too. I’ve got nothing to cover myself with except my wetsuit, which is soaked through and won’t go back on without chafing in some very tender areas.
Unless I’ve been robbed, there’s only one person to blame for my current predicament.
