Twenty-Seven
Lola
The day before the two-day competition, we left our motel at zero-dark-thirty for the drive to Knight’s Ferry. I clutched a hot mug of coffee as Justice maneuvered the van inland, past open fields. I squinted under a moonless sky only seeing the shadows of ghostly farmhouses. I even heard a cow mooing.
We arrived just as the sun rose, the sky coming alive in an awe-inspiring display of burnt orange, violet, and red against the blue sky with silver clouds streaking over the peaceful countryside.
Justice patted my knee. “Welcome to our little slice of paradise, Mrs. Hamilton.”
We rolled past a weathered brown sign. “Welcome to Historic Knight’s Ferry. Established 1848.”
As beams of sunlight lit up the landscape, we took in the small town. The place looked like a gold rush town, complete with an old-style saloon and I imagined Justice and I sitting in porch rockers as we sipped cold beer and watched the sunset.
“Didn’t they film some eighties TV show here?” I asked. I picked up my smartphone. “Here it is. Little House on the Prairie.” I screwed up my face as I read. “And a really old black and white show called Bonanza.”
Justice bounced up and down in the driver’s seat. “Bonanza? What’s it about?”
I skimmed through the Wikipedia entry. “It’s a western.”
“Well, yee-friggin haw! A black and white western. Sounds like something I would like.”
I smacked his arm. “You and your old movies. Are you ever going to move into this century with the rest of us?” I smiled at my fake husband. I loved that he refused to fill his life with mindless scrolling through Facebook and Instagram. Justice would be the last person you’d find standing in line for the latest iPhone. He lived in the moment.
He patted the dashboard and winked. “I talked Papaw into installing a cassette player in this baby, didn’t I?”
I rolled my eyes. “You’re impossible. The world could end, and you’d be the only one left along with the cockroaches, happily playing your Doors cassettes and reading books on a stone tablet.”
He pointed to himself. “That’s right. This throwback kid ain’t going nowhere.”
We drove past a primitive General Store—the oldest store in all of California according to Wikipedia—and past a delightful wooden covered bridge. I rolled down the window and took a deep breath of fresh air, the river babbling contentedly in the background.
I took in the early morning beauty of the tiny town nestled in the foothills of the Sierra Nevada. “Check out those gorgeous California Oaks. Kinda makes you want to climb a tree. If you think La Fortuna’s little, this place takes the prize.”
Justice smiled. “I like it. Anything fresh and new in life gets my vote.”
“Is that all you care about? Fresh and new?” What did that mean for our future? Did we even have one? I pressed my lips together. We were here to win the contest. Focus, Lola.
“It’s totally cool that they’ve got a wave pool out here. Dang. Over a hundred miles from the ocean.” He rubbed his hands together in glee. “Can’t wait to see it. Life’s always better on a surfboard, right?”
“Right.”
Once we’d checked in to our cozy motel, I dug around in my suitcase for the surprise I’d made. “Close your eyes, Justice.”
“You planning on blindfolding me?” His eyes glinted with amusement. “That sounds promising.”
“Just close them.”
He closed his eyes, and when I had my surprise laid out on the bed, I said, “Okay. Open them.”
His eyes flicked open, and he gasped, his eyes growing wide. “What? When did you—”
Two custom rash guards lay on the bed: The matching design favored my signature bohemian pattern: a swirly delight in hues of turquoise, red, orange and yellow. I’d silk-screened the phrase Team Lola and Justice in bold letters on them. My heart beat in my throat. “Do you like them?”
He picked up the fabric and held it against his chest. “Killer! I love them!” Justice was like a kid on Christmas morning, dancing around the room and clutching the shirt to his chest, his dark hair falling in his eyes. His smile was dazzling. “Our lucky charms!” Shoot. Why did Justice have to be so dang adorable?
“Put yours on,” he said. Justice dragged his T-shirt over his head, and I sucked in my breath again when I saw his six-pack abs and the way his chest heaved with every breath he took.
I pulled off my shirt, and he let out a low whistle. “Damn, Lola. I love that bra. Look at the way your tits practically hang out.” The look in his eyes was lewd and hungry.
“Shut up and don’t get sidetracked. We need to go sign in.” I pulled on the rash guard I’d made for myself.
Justice affected a hurt look. “Okay, but you will show me those beauties later, Mrs. Hamilton.”
“Only if you’re a good boy.”
We grinned at each other. He threw his shirt on the bed and replaced it with the rash guard, holding his arms wide. It fit perfectly over his sculpted arms, biceps, and broad chest. We stood together and looked into the mirror. I marveled at how perfect we looked, me with my curvy body and Justice with his rock hard surfer’s bod. “We look fantastic!” I said.
“You bet we do.” Justice turned and gave me a warm peck on the cheek. “We’re going to win,” he said. “And when we do, we’ll have our pictures all over the news wearing your one-of-a-kind designs.” He picked me up and twirled me once. My hair flew around like a kid on an amusement ride, and I felt deliriously happy. He set me down and held my hand. “Come on, Mrs. Hamilton. Let’s go sign in.” And we skipped out the door hand in hand.
* * *
A festive banner greeted us at the entrance: “Welcome to the Knight’s Ferry Valentine’s Day Wave Pool Extravaganza!” Cupids bearing bows and arrows graced the proclamation, the giant sign billowing gaily in the wind.
We were in such a great mood that we practically pranced underneath the sign and toward the contest area.
When I saw the pool, I stopped midstride and stumbled. Justice caught me just in time. “Whoa. Careful there.”
The wave pool was so much larger than I expected. We stood hand-in-hand in front of the massive body of water, and a fluttery feeling of anticipation filled my belly.
Justice’s fingers touched his parted lips. “Check out the size of this baby.”
“Must be at least two football fields.”
Green grass surrounded the entire wave pool and sand had been brought to create a beach-like feel as though we were at the ocean. A pier bisected the middle of the humongous pool. The park boasted a surf shop, a snack bar, a brewery, a first aid building and locker rooms.
Justice and I stood silently as though we were in the presence of royalty. Gawking at the flawless waves, a surge of excitement roared through my body. The waves, made by a machine, broke in a perfectly symmetrical tube. Whereas in nature, the waves were inconsistent, here they broke precisely the same way every time. A few athletes were already in the water warming up. I watched as a pretty female surfer crouched down and tucked into the tube.
My breath caught as I spoke. “It looks like Pipeline. I wish daddy were here.” My father had spent the better part of his life on the pro surfing tour. My fondest memories of papai were of the countless hours we’d spent together riding gnarly tubes.
Justice squeezed my hand, and his captivating blue eyes stared into mine. “I’m sure he’s getting all the best waves out in Maui.”
We moved to the registration desk where a fit surfer girl took our names. Her fingernail ran down the list of entrants. “Here you are. Justice and Lola Hamilton.” Her gaze flicked to mine and she tilted her head. “Hey. Didn’t you used to be Lola Cortes?”
I blushed. Yes, I had landed on the pro surfing radar due to my daddy.
My father was famous in a lot of ways. Some would say infamous. Despite his larger-than-life brawling personality, he had excelled on the pro tour rising all the way to the top. When that ended, he took on the deadly high-risk sport of big wave surfing, challenging waves of sixty feet and larger. I smiled when I thought of my ferociously powerful papai. He taught me never to give up. He never did and look where it got him. Daddy had become one of the most competitive big wave surfers in the world.
My father, with his rugged good looks and my strikingly photo worthy stepmother, had been featured in more than one surfing gossip blog as well as blowing up Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter. That meant that I had unintended B-List celebrity-hood as his only daughter. I gave her a small salute. “One and the same.”
She looked from me to Justice, her gaze taking in my handsome husband and lingering a bit too long. “Well! Welcome. And good luck.” She waved a hand toward the event board. “You can check out the competition over there.”
We trotted to the event board, and I scanned the names of participants. I recognized a lot of them from days following my dad around the pro tour. My heart sunk as realization hit. The competition was fierce—pro surfers, lifestyle athletes, ex-world tandem champions. I sucked in my breath. “Dang it. We’ve got some tough competition.”
Justice pulled himself to his full height and smiled confidently. “We’re going to win.” He leaned into the contest board and squinted his eyes. “Looks like we’re up tomorrow against a couple from Hawaii.” His finger moved down the list, and he frowned. “There’s Devin and Kristin against a South African couple.”
As if on cue, Devin walked up to the board, tugging Kristin behind. I inhaled an unpleasant whiff of his aftershave and almost sneezed. “Well, will you look at the Bobbsey Twins.” I held my breath and gulped down breaths to stay quiet.
Kristin gave Devin a warning look. “Don’t—”
“Don’t what?” he said. He clapped his hands together. “Let’s hear it for the cute couple of the year.” His voice lowered. “A couple who hasn’t surfed tandem for at least six years. Want to give the trophy to me right now, Justice?” He made a framing motion with his hands. “I can see my Whole Foods and my redevelopment award now.” He slapped Justice hard on the back. “May as well hand on over the deed.”
Justice’s body stiffened, his jaw forming a hard line. “Come on, Lola. Let’s get out of here.” He grabbed my hand. “We’ve got a contest to win.”
Justice gripped my hand tightly as we hurried away, his voice a mutter. “I’m only holding off on whacking the guy a good one so we don’t ruin our chances.”
I held up a finger. “Good plan.” I’d already spied Devin’s videographer filming. “Much as I want to haul off and put the dude in a headlock …” I sucked in a breath through gritted teeth. “We’ll be good little kids till we win.”
As we wandered through the park, I took in the many athletes with their custom tandem boards and tried to quell my feelings of intimidation. It had been a long time since Justice and I competed tandem. I swallowed over a dry throat as an empty feeling filled the pit of my stomach.