To the Sea (Follow your Bliss) (20 page)

            “Are we
still talking surfer to surfer?” Kira asked unsure what to do with all that he
just revealed.

He
nodded.

            “Wanna
catch a wave?”

Chapter
Twenty-Five

The
ocean brought Ian and Kira into harmony with one another; being with him,
whether in the water or land, was as near to her as breathing.

“You
make me feel like flying,” she said, quietly.

“Is
that a good thing?”

“Very,”
she said before paddling and coasting along a cresting wave, flying through the
water. She didn’t know that was possible with someone until Ian.

He
caught the next one and she watched him do a fluid frontside turn and then cut
back, spray catching the sunlight like jewels spraying in every direction and
shattering it, dramatically, like glass. The both paddled back out, seagulls
calling overhead. 

“I
guess I did work myself out of a job after all,” he joked from where they sat
outside the breaking waves.

“You
saw me out here the other day?”

“Maybe,”
Ian said with a boyish grin. “I saw a wicked hot chick tearing it up on a
bright blue board.”

“Why
didn’t you say hi?”

“Didn’t
want to interrupt your flow.”

Ian
expressed how impressed he was at how much Kira had improved as she caught wave
after wave, skimming along right down the line of the curl. When they sat
side-by-side, straddling their boards, between sets, their legs brushed,
sending a quiver right up to her chest. She let her gaze linger on him, his
full lips, strong jaw; she longed to be closer. It was a fun early morning
session; but all too soon, Ian rode in to shore.

“I
better get to the shop, check the schedule for students.”

Kira
played along. “Has it been busy?” she asked.

“Yeah,”
he said absently bending over to take off his leash.

“I’ll
grab some coffee,” she said joining him.

Leaving
their boards outside, Kira followed Ian into the store, and waited in the short
line to get a coffee. Kira couldn’t resist a fresh blueberry muffin, just out
of the oven, cooling on the counter.

From
across the room, Ian laughed buoyantly. In an instant, he swooped in next to
her stealing a bite of the muffin in her hand. She playfully wrestled him to
get it back, and without realizing it, his arms wrapped around her waist in a
hug.

As
Kira leaned back to look up into his eyes, any lingering uncertainty that they
didn’t want something more between them disappeared. She let her wet-suit clad
body lean into his, offering him another bite of the muffin. He leaned in so
close she almost tasted his minty breath. Instead of a kiss, he offered a smile
that melted her heart.

“So
I guess I didn’t work myself out of a job.”

Kira
laughed.

“I
see you’re on the schedule. Still a student, eh?”

“I
couldn’t sleep last night so I figured what better way to spend a tired morning
than surfing with my favorite teacher.”

His
laughter filled the room.

“And
I had to try again,” she said, running her hand along his arm, letting it rest
there. If Ian wasn’t so tan, she would’ve been sure he blushed a little.

“Ready
to go back out?”

“Absolutely.”
Kira guzzled her coffee.

Ian
helped her improve a few skills especially turning, but mostly they goofed off,
splashing each other, and trying to ride tandem. Ian had a few other students
that day, so Kira intermittently lounged in the sand, read a novel, caught some
more waves, and then met up with him when his workday was over.

“Want
to have dinner together?” Ian asked shyly. 

Kira
nodded as she struggled out of her wetsuit remarking how it never got easier.
She tumbled over a jumbled heap of boxes; the mess reminded her of the first
morning in there with him.

“I
figured with the owner back he’d have cleaned this up,” Kira said, still
somewhat poorly affected by clutter and chaos.

“He
has his own way of keeping track of where everything is, darned if I know. I’ve
thought about opening a surf shop someday. Yanno, just dreaming.”

“You
could hire me to keep things organized,” Kira joked.

Once
changed, they hopped in Ian’s pickup truck. After a quick stop at a farm stand,
he wove through the narrow beach streets and parked. “We go on foot from here.”

They
crossed the dunes and then came out down the beach by a large break wall that
jutted out into the sea. Unless they were fishing for their dinner, Kira didn’t
see a restaurant in either direction. They continued walking, arriving at a
wooden set of stairs with an elegant script spread out on each of the risers
that read,
If there is magic on the planet, surely it is found in the ocean.
 

The
stairs led up to a semi-enclosed deck with flowering vines growing up the side,
connected to a small cottage. “Welcome to my place,” Ian said opening the door.
“I wanted to cook you dinner, if that’s okay.”

“The
farm stand. Right.” Kira said putting it together. “That would be wonderful.”

“Any
allergies, extreme dislikes?”

“Clams.
They really don’t like to be eaten. If you have to pry it open, no thank you,”
Kira said making a face.

“No
clams then, which works out perfectly because I was going to make us burritos.
And I’m a vegetarian.” He set to work in the kitchen and Kira sat on a stool at
the small center island. While Ian chopped tomatoes and onions, he asked her
about Africa. “Just leave out the Jamie parts.”

 Kira
laughed. “That won’t be difficult.”

“I’m
not jealous of him, he’s a good looking dude, works the ladies and all that,
and I’ll give him credit, he’s an amazing surfer.” Ian paused. “But he doesn’t
respect the, surfer code, ya know?”

Kira
tilted her head, unsure what he meant.

“He
snakes waves, drops in on people, he’s a bully out there. If he’s the only one
out, fine, he gets center stage, but if there’s a lineup, he doesn’t know how
to share. He gets aggressive about it too. Once, he chewed out this kid, one I
actually taught how to surf, who’d just gotten the courage to go out past the
breakers, and Jamie let loose on him for getting in his way. The kid was in
tears. This isn’t the Superbank. I mean, Jamie could’ve just cut back. I’ve
seen him act that way a lot. Out of the water, he’s all right, but in the surf,
he gets mean. That’s not the way of the ocean, well not my way.”

She’d
made peace with Jamie, but learning this new detail didn’t surprise her. He
certainly loved the spotlight, and when she saw him surf in Africa, he rode the
waves solo.

“That’s
not cool,” Kira said.

 “But
other than that, like I said, he’s alright. Mostly. I guess it’s hard for me to
get past his weird territorialism,” Ian said. “And that he seduced you before I
had a chance.” Ian looked up from an avocado, his cheeks dimpling in a huge
smile.

“With
Jamie out of the picture, you are, if you’re still interested, allowed to
seduce me.” Kira’s cheeks turned pink at her candor. Honesty indeed. Throughout
the day, she’d grown increasingly more attracted to Ian, her pulse quicker in
his presence, heat building below her belly. She hadn’t been able to ignore his
extreme good looks before, but Jamie hijacked her attention, and she didn’t
think of Ian as much more than a friend. Now the roles of the men switched, and
Kira pictured Ian in his wetsuit, all muscle and brawn, those first times she
saw him. However, now her attraction to Ian was more than skin, or wetsuit,
deep. Ian was soulful. He knew how to talk and listen, he laughed easily, loved
the ocean, and by the looks of it, knew how to cook.  

Ian
dipped a tortilla chip into the guacamole, and offered Kira a bite. It tasted
limey, salty, and fresh.

“What
is it they say? The quickest way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. My
theory is the same is true for women.”

As
he continued preparing the meal, the amber sunset glowed through the living
room windows. Kira told Ian about Africa, surfing, the Karoo, and safari, the
hike up Table Mountain, the characters who she’d met on the trip, and then the
drum circle.

“It
was transformative. Just amazing, something I never expected. Like magic.” She
paused drawing the feeling of the experience back into her being. “To get out
of my surroundings and get a new perspective shifted something inside me. I was
supposed to go to France, but was destined for Africa. Even though someday I
really want to go there, I’m thankful I changed plans,” Kira said.

“You
know, there are some great breaks in France, Hossegor, Biarritz, La Basque,”
Ian said.

“Really?
When I think of France I think Paris, crepes, the Eiffel tower, and enchanting
little villages in wine country.”

“And
surfing,” Ian said enthusiastically. “Let’s do it someday, I’ve never surfed in
Europe, it’ll be a first for both of us.”

“Okay,”
she said, knowing that after spontaneously going to South Africa on a
surfari
anything was possible.

As
Ian fried onions, peppers, and black beans, Kira studied his house. A large
bookshelf spanned nearly an entire wall, but from where she sat, she couldn’t
quite read the titles. A well-worn couch sat behind a coffee table stacked with
books and magazines, and a bowl full of seashells and sea glass. Kira noticed
the absence of a TV. In the corner, she saw a dog bed, but no dog. An acoustic
guitar leaned against the wall in another corner. Hanging on the wall there
were a few framed photographs of surfers, one in a huge cerulean wave and
another riding a green tube. There was also a collage of family photos and an
old wooden tide clock. By a side door rested a couple surfboards and a stack of
towels. It was simple and tidy.

“So
why did we take the super-secret way to get here?” Kira asked also noting the
front door window held a stained glass rendition of a mermaid.

“My
neighbor is having a family reunion, and they asked if they could use my
driveway. And the beach path is a bit more romantic,” he said smirking.

“You
have a nice place, lucky to be here right here on the beach.”

“My
family’s old beach house. I usually head out west in the winter.”

“Really?”

“My
grandfather left me a houseboat in Sausalito. I stay there for the winter,
surf, shape, write.”

“You
write?”

“When
I’m not surfing or shaping boards, I’m a writer. Freelance. Articles. Working
on the proverbial book.” He ducked into an adjacent room, and brought out a
magazine. “My latest.”

Kira
thumbed through to a dog-eared page. Across the top, it read
Into the Mist
by
Ian Ingram. While he continued to cook, she read the article about wave culture
and weather, and how it affected indigenous tribes across the globe.

“This
is fascinating,” Kira said when she finished. “I’m looking forward to your
book.”

“It’s
not entirely about surfing, but incorporates the lifestyle, the heart and soul
of wave culture, some history, and lots of food, recipes, stuff on health and
fitness. I think you’ll dig it,” he said as he rolled two big burritos. “No
worries if you can’t eat it all, I give doggie bags.”

Kira
let the plump burrito cool. When she took the first bite, the flavors of
chilies, cilantro, and cumin merged with the veggies, beans, and rice.

“This
is delicious,” Kira said.

As
they ate the burritos, pico de gallo, and guacamole, they chatted easily about
everything and nothing at all. Afterward they each had a Corona with lime out
on the deck. Later, while Kira helped clean up, Ian tossed sudsy bubbles at
her, and she whacked him with the dishtowel. When he went to grab it, their bare
arms brushed. They both became still, their eyes meeting. Kira’s heart beat
rapidly and then she took a deep breath, breaking the spell.

Ian
asked, “Want to take a walk?”

She
didn’t want the night to end so a walk provided a perfect way to extend it. She
hoped if they just kept walking, talking, walking, and talking it wouldn’t have
to. When they descended onto the beach, Ian reached for Kira’s hand. His fit
around hers perfectly, warm and solid at the same time. Again, her heart
pattered more quickly in her chest. They walked barefoot in the sand, the air
still and salty.

“You
know, when we met, I hadn’t been to the ocean in years.”

“I
had that sense when you first dipped your toes in,” Ian said, unable to
suppress a smile.

“It
scared me. It’s so wild at times. For most of my life, I was going for
controlled and orderly. Pretty much the opposite of windy, sandy, and wet.”

Ian
laughed.

She
gave him a sideways look.

“I’m
not laughing at you. Honest. It just amazes me how people can change. Sometimes
we think everything is the way it is, and then we surprise ourselves when we
discover we can do or think something different.”

After
a while, they turned back toward Ian’s place, still walking hand in hand. They
passed the cottage to his truck. As they drove back to Kira’s Mercedes, she
took a careful look at him, wanting to memorize his image and take it home with
her, comfort for the tears that she anticipated would flow when she returned to
Lilac Court.