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Sea of Seduction: A Single Dad Sports Romance Page 14
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“That’s just it, Goff. I don’t think she will. She’s got some crazy idea I’m going to die out there.”
“This isn’t exactly the safest sport around you know. But you know what you’re getting into. You’re one of us now.”
Did I know what I was getting into? I’d been a surfer all my life. One of the best on the tour. But the largest wave I’d ever ridden was around twenty feet, not the monsters that the big wave surfers like Goff lived for. The waves at Cortes Bank would be around fifty feet high, maybe more. Chills covered my body, the emergency flotation vest squeezing the air out of my lungs. Coco was right to be afraid. I forced the thought to the back of my mind.
I straightened to my full height. I was going to ride Cortes Bank. I would show everyone what a great surfer I was.
“So, how it works,” Goff said, “Is when you get forced down, just relax and hold your breath. If it seems like you’re down too long, then, and only then, pull the cord, and the vest’ll inflate. Nothing to it. You’ll pop up eventually.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Dominick
I was busy preparing dinner with Lola that evening. She passed me the box of mac and cheese. “We’ll use this as part of the casserole, and then we’ll put some organic veggies in just the way Coco likes it.”
“You and me are going to be better than that Rachel Ray on TV,” I said.
We grinned at each other. Lola said, “Now be careful when you add the cheese sauce because I don’t want it lumpy like last time.”
“How can it be lumpy? This is an American perfection of dining.” I kissed my fingertips.
We were jolted out of our concentrated efforts by a sharp rap at the door.
Lola raced to the door, flung it open, and there stood my mother. “Avó!” My mom dropped her suitcase and drew Lola up into a big hug, twirling her around once. “Daddy! Grandma’s here!” Lola’s face beamed as she squealed with delight.
My hand involuntarily reached out in a feeble attempt to halt the fact that my mother was standing in the doorway. “Mom?”
Finally, my mother set Lola down. She peered at me with narrowed eyes. “Are you going to invite me in or are you going to let your poor mother freeze out here?”
“What are you doing here? Why didn’t you call?” I hugged my mother, and she held me so tightly I thought all the air would leave my lungs. She smelled of cinnamon and mints. “Lola, bring Grandma’s bag in.”
My mother stood in the center of the living room; her dark curly hair stuck out around her head like a house afire. She placed her hands on her hips and inspected our humble home. “Not bad.” She ran her hand over the heavy oak table. “I see you have a reading table just like your grandma.”
I stood stock-still and squeezed my eyes shut. This was just like my mother to show up unannounced. I opened my eyes, but my mother was still there. “I would’ve picked you up at the airport. Are you crazy? That’s a twelve-hour flight.”
Lola hooked her arm through my mothers. “She’s not crazy. My grandma is the most sane person I know.”
“Listen to your daughter Dominick.” She patted Lola’s head and drew her in close. “She always was smarter than you. Is it a crime to surprise my babies? I needed to get out here and make sure you two are okay. You’re always bragging about how great this California place is.” She sniffed in distaste. “I have my doubts. That airport was more crowded than Mexico City. And the traffic!” She smacked her forehead. “Do you know how long it took us to drive here?” She gazed at me expectantly. “Aren’t you going to ask me how my flight was?”
I let out a heavy sigh. “How was your flight, mother?”
She gazed heavenward. “Don’t ask.” She brushed her hands together. “Now, what’ve you got to eat around here? Your mother is about to starve to death.”
Lola brightened and led her excitedly toward the kitchen. “Daddy and I were just making dinner. Wait until you see all the great American food we’ve got. And wait until you see how pretty the ocean is, and how pretty our little town is, and how cool …” Lola’s hands flew to her cheeks. “Oh, my gosh, Grandma, you get to meet Daddy’s girlfriend tonight.”
My mother stopped walking halfway to the kitchen. She stared at me, and I felt just like a teenager making bad decisions again. “Girlfriend? Why am I not surprised?” She wagged a finger at me. “You better not be getting some girl pregnant again. I thought you told me you were going to keep it in your pants for a while.”
A giggle erupted from Lola. “Grandma! You’re not old enough to talk like that.”
We all burst into nervous laughter, but I was already feeling annoyed with my mother. Lola and I had a new life. A life that didn’t include my constant travel and coming home a couple of times a month to discover that my mother had filled Lola’s head with crazy ideas about Catholicism or what kind of clothes to wear. Of course, she did most of the raising of my daughter, and I was forever grateful. But things were different now.
Lola tugged at my mother’s sleeve. “She’s really pretty. And smart too. You’ll like her.”
My mother muttered under her breath, her brown eyes narrowing. “Pretty. Your dad knows all about pretty girls. He’s had sex with enough women to—”
“Mom! Stop. Lola doesn’t want to hear your ramblings. Now, what can we get you to drink?”
She smiled at me and wiped a tear. “I’m sorry, baby. I just want the best for you and my grandbaby.” She turned to Lola. “Show me your house, amor.” Lola grabbed my mother’s hand and led her through our small cottage while I followed along mutely. We finally made our way back to the kitchen and then my mom opened the fridge and inspected the contents. “I can see I’m going to have to do some shopping. “Where’s the pork?” She faced me, hands on hips. “Does your market have a good butcher? I need to get some blood sausages.”
I extracted a pitcher of lemonade and poured us all drinks, handing mother a glass. “Here you go. Relax. You must be exhausted. Put your feet up.” I glanced toward the living room window. “Coco will be here any minute.”
“Coco? What kind of name is that?”
And then, there she was. Coco knocked briskly, and Lola raced to the door, flinging it open. “Coco!” Lola hugged her tightly. “You get to meet Grandma. Wait until you see, she’s here, and she’s going to cook, and she knows how to braid my hair really pretty and, oh, come on in and meet her.”
My mother had already made her way to Coco’s side, eyeing her up and down. Her face broke into her most enamoring smile. “I’m Dominick’s mom.” She stuck her hand out, then immediately drew Coco into a tight hug. When she finally let go, Coco’s face was so comically surprised that I almost burst out laughing. “But you call me Cecilia.” She put one arm around Coco and led her into the kitchen. “Now, what can we get you to drink? Are you hungry? Did you work today? Of course, you did, all American girls work, right?” My mother babbled on in her usual way, not allowing Coco to get a word in. Finally, she stopped, and her hands flew to her mouth. “Look at me, talk, talk, talk. That’s all I ever do. I want to hear all about you.”
Coco seemed stunned into silence. “Well, it’s an extreme pleasure to meet you.”
I moved to Coco’s side and slithered my arm around her. “My mom likes to surprise people sometimes.”
The water in the pasta pot reached a rolling boil, and Lola quickly removed the top and dumped the contents of the macaroni box into the water. “Dinner’s almost ready. Grandma, help me out.”
The four of us bustled about the kitchen while my mother made comments about the unsuitability of our packaged mac and cheese.
We sat at the table and dug into our feast.
“Guess what, Grandma? Daddy, Coco and I entered a contest,” Lola said.
“A surf contest? Dominick’s not allowed to compete anymore.”
“No, Mom. Not a surf contest.”
“We get to come up with a drink idea for one of the surf companies,” Lola said. She told my mother
about the competition. “Coco knows all about healthy herbs and stuff.”
“And how does she know that?”
“She owns an anti-aging boutique.” I held Coco’s hand. “It’s right here in town. You should see how much she knows about natural remedies.”
“Yep.” Coco patted my hand. “Dominick asked my help, and I think we came up with a winner.”
My mother broke into a huge grin. “A business woman! I like that. It would be nice if you won.” Her gaze flicked my way. “Maybe give Dominick a chance in the surf world again.” Great. Just the topic I didn’t want discussed.
Coco was her usual gracious self as she gently changed the subject, chatting with Mom like they were old friends.
“How did you learn to speak English so well?”
“You like? Really?” My mother’s cheeks flushed pink. “My Dominick helped me. He learned so many languages on all his travels. One day he came home with some tapes from that Rosetta Stone thing.” Her eyes twinkled. “I studied hard and watched American shows. Cheers is my favorite.”
Coco reached forward and touched my mother’s arms. “Oh! I love Cheers. That show was a lot smarter than people thought. Great writers.” Coco smiled her smile that lit the entire room, and I felt proud that she was my girlfriend.
The image Coco showed the world was enthusiastic and confident, but there was something about her that needed protecting. She may have pretended to have it all together, but a slight melancholy lived within Coco that I couldn’t quite put my finger on.
I’d seen the charming way she acted with customers—helpful and caring. She believed in those high-priced lotions and potions she sold. Her business was quite the financial success.
Maybe she understood things like profit and loss better than I, but she wasn’t street-smart the way I’d learned to be. She needed me to keep her safe.
I leaned back in my chair and smiled remembering our spirited conversations about my desire to ride Cortes Bank. There was a fire to Coco, and I enjoyed her spunk.
I could see myself building a life with her.
My mother reached out and touched Coco’s cheek. “Such soft skin. Can you make me look that pretty? Maybe give me a facial?”
Coco beamed with happiness. “I would love to! Come by the shop tomorrow, and I’ll give you a makeover.”
Mom’s hands flew to her cheeks. “Really?” She leaned forward and patted Coco’s hand. “I like you. I can see Dominick picked a good one this time.” I took a long swig of lemonade to soothe the lump in my throat.
Lola blurted out, “Daddy’s teaching me to fight.”
The room became silent as everyone stared at Lola. Finally, my mother said, “What’s this all about? Dominick, you want Lola to be just like you?”
“No, Grandma, it’s different. Fighting’s only for emergencies.” She gazed at her lap, tears filling her eyes. “There are these kids at school …” And in a quiet voice, she launched into her story about the bullies.
“Mom, I’ve got this under control. Lola won’t need to fight. She and I are just doing a little punching bag training together. It’s harmless.”
Lola was becoming a master with the punching bag. It was a father-daughter thing we did, just like we surfed together. I tried not to think about the realities of Lola being picked on but when she discussed it with me, she didn’t seem overly concerned. In fact, she had a gleam in her eye. I prayed she wouldn’t have to use her fighting skills.
My mother leaned into the table fast. “Santa Maria! What are you doing teaching Lola to fight?” She glared at me. “You want your baby to be killed?” Her fist flew to her mouth, and she bit down. “I don’t even know what I’d do if anything happened to Lola.”
“Grandma, it’s okay.”
My mother raised a hand and squeezed her eyes shut. “Don’t.” She opened her eyes. “I can’t deal with another one of my babies coming home covered in blood.”
The table fell silent. My mother pointed her finger at me, “You think you can solve the world’s problems all on your own.” She wadded up her napkin and hurled it onto her plate. “It doesn’t work that way, but I know there’s no talking sense into you.” She took a long swig of her drink and carefully replaced the glass on the table, her exhale a shudder. “Lola, you be careful.” She squinted her eyes. “Dominick, how’s your surfing going?”
“Daddy’s training to surf big waves.”
Coco squeezed my hand hard. My mother drummed her fingers on the table. “I don’t know about this, Lola. Your father told me all about that place. What’s it called? Cortes something?”
“Cortes Bank,” Lola said. “It has our name and everything. It’s meant to be.” She got up and placed a protective arm around my shoulders. “My dad is the best surfer in the whole wide world. He can do anything he wants. He’s gonna rip it up out there.”
My mother narrowed her eyes. “Isn’t that dangerous? Why do you want to go out there and break every bone in your body? Don’t you want to be able to come home to your Lola? To this beautiful lady?” She pointed to herself. “To me? I don’t know about kids these days, Coco.” She shook her head. “I never could talk Dominick out of anything he wanted to do. Surf the pro tour, have a baby at twenty-three, move to California.”
When my mother mentioned Lola, her words slashed my heart with a cutting edge. I would not orphan my daughter. My fists clenched and I gritted my teeth so hard my jaw hurt. I kept my voice measured when I spoke. “Mom, I’ve been training. You’ve seen me surf.”
She jabbed a finger in my face. “I’ve seen you surf all right. I’ve seen you surf so hard that you got yourself all worked up and punched that judge in the face. What are you going to do when you wipe out on that big wave?” She leaned forward in her seat as though she were going to come right across the table and shake me. “Who are you going to punch then?”
Lola jogged around the table and held my mother’s hand. “Grandma, he’s not going to hurt anyone.” She looked at me and winked. “We never do that unless someone deserves it.”
My mother’s hands flew up in the air. “That’s exactly what I’m talking about.” She folded her arms and pursed her lips. “You two do things your own way. Never mind who gets hurt.” Her voice rose. “Go out there and kill yourself. Don’t worry about your poor mother.”
“I’m not going to kill myself!” I thumped my glass down on the table so hard that some of my lemonade sloshed out.
My mother leaned forward and gazed into Coco’s eyes. “What do you think about this big wave thing?”
Coco grasped my hand, and her grip felt like ice. She let go and cleared her throat, then took a sip of her drink. “I … I think Dominick knows what he’s doing.” She placed a hand on my arm and looked at me sideways. “He’s the best surfer in the lineup. I’ve seen him, and I know he’s professional.” Her voice wavered, and her chin trembled when she spoke. “He … he’ll be fine out there.” And then she added, “I know it’s personal for him. Once he does it, it’ll be out of his system. Right, Dominick?”
My mother shook her head. “You, my love, are blinded by this handsome man.” She threw both hands up in the air. “Young love. What do you two know about the dangers of life?”
I massaged my temples. Damn my mother. I had been working hard to soothe Coco’s fears about my trip to Cortes Bank, and with one family dinner, my mother was unraveling my plan. “Mom,” I said. “I’ve been training. I’ve connected with the local big wave surfers, and I can hold my breath for almost four minutes under water, I have a flotation vest, I—”
“Four minutes? Are you crazy? People drown more from passing out under water than a real drowning. Just last week somebody died doing one of those crazy free diving things in Sao Paulo. He was practicing ‘holding his breath.’” My mother paused, sucking in a deep breath as though she was the one who had nearly drowned. “Do you want to know how they found him? No? I’ll tell you then. He was sitting in a lotus posture on the bottom of the ocean. Mo
rto! Dead. Is that what you want?”
I raised my voice. “I’m not going to die!” The back of my neck felt hot, and in that instant, I wanted to pick my mother up, herd her right back out the front door and send her back to Brazil. I took a deep breath and counted to ten. “Mom,” I said slowly. “I’ve been a pro surfer my whole life.” My fists clenched under the table. “I am going to be fine.” I stared into her fierce brown eyes. “You know why I’m doing this.”
All the fight left my mother.
“Yes.” She sighed audibly. “I do.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Dominick
After the kitchen was clean, I cornered Coco. “Let’s get some fresh air.”
She laughed softly. “Need a break from your mom already?”
I pointed a finger at her. “Exactly.”
We left Mom and Lola and walked the few blocks to the walkway overlooking the ocean. We held hands as we strolled the meandering path, the stars twinkling above, the palm trees gently swaying in the evening breeze. I inhaled the briny ocean air deeply, trying to shake off my mother’s overbearing attitude.
Coco gazed up at me. “That sure was a surprise meeting your mom tonight.” She stopped and tugged on a strand of my hair. “You don’t seem too thrilled with her interfering in your surfing plans.”
I placed a soft kiss on her lips. “She means well. You know how moms are.” During our time together, Coco hadn’t wanted to talk about her family. All she would say was that her father had left before she was born and that her mother passed away when Coco was a teenager. She told me her mother had a brain tumor. Every time I tried to delve deeper, she changed the subject. If Coco wanted to elaborate about her family life, I would let her bring it up. We were having too much fun getting to know each other, enjoying conversations about work, love and then cramming in some hotter-than-hell sex every chance we got.