Chapter Three
Cole
“That’s it, paddle easy and glide your board down.” The twelve-year-old fiery redhead eases into the wave, catching on quickly. Aiden is one of my surf students who’s been around since the beginning. He’s worked hard to master his skills, and his dedication and persistence are admirable for such a young kid.
He looks back at me and waves. Standing with precision, Aiden keeps his balance and rides the surfboard through the wave, keeping it steady the whole way down. I wave back and call him in.
“That surf was sick!” Aiden places his board down on the sand and grins up at me. I chuckle and ruffle his hair. He’s tried to nail down staying up on his board longer for a while now. He’ll get there.
Rocky runs by me, his fav ball half hanging out of his mouth. I chuckle when he splashes into the water. I’ve never met a dog who loves the beach and water as much as Rocky. His golden fur shines in the sun, and he’s happy as a clam running through the sand and water all day. I love having him with me at work and not having to worry where he goes. He always stays close.
“Rocky!” Aiden squeals when Rocky’s wet paws knock him over, both of them falling into a heap on the ground.
He loves to charm our clients while getting free belly rubs.
I line a couple of more students up, helping them prep for their turn. There’s a lot to learn about surfing outside of the water before you dive in. Foot placement, knees slightly bent, balancing yourself. It’s all key to successful wave surfing, and it’s easier to learn without the water beneath you.
The day passes as I move through each class in the morning and then onto my private lessons in the afternoon. I run three children group surf lessons in the summer and save my private lessons for the afternoon and sometimes the weekends. When school is in session, I run adult classes in the morning and two child classes on the weekends.
Yeah, you could say I’m a workaholic. But when you love what you do, it’s less like work.
I’ve always loved to surf since I was a young kid and used to ride the bus down here to take the same classes from my old boss. I haven’t left the water since.
“How was your day, son?” My grandfather’s deep voice rings through the small surf shack. I turn to find Rocky jumping all over him, the smile on his face lighting up the room.
“Not bad, same as usual. Rocky over there is having too much fun in all this warm weather.”
Gramps laughs. “I’m sure he is. Aren’t you, good boy?” He grabs a dog treat off the front counter, and Rocky instantly sits, lifting his right paw in the air.
I adopted Rocky when he was a puppy, full of energy and life. During a dark time in my life, he brought me relief and comfort.
And now, he sure knows how to get what he wants. So spoiled. “And how about your day, Gramps? Staying out of trouble?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know the trouble I’ve been getting into.” Gramps gives Rocky one last pat and makes his way over to me. A stroke a few years ago left him with a limp in his right leg. He gets around without his cane more now, though I insist he still use it. He puts too much pressure on himself.
“Can’t be anything worse than me.” I wipe down the last board and start preparing to close up shop for the day. Gramps settles onto the couch in the waiting area, and I grab him a bottle of water.
Rocky jumps up and nuzzles beside him.
It’s our typical afternoon routine. Gramps enjoys watching me close up the shop, and we catch up on our day.
He’s my only close family. Or the only one who matters, I should say.
When my grandmother died six years ago, he was lost. My mother was swept up in her own relationship and didn’t care, so we became partners in crime, so to speak, and leaned on each other. He helped me take over this shop, and we worked through our grief and our problems together. Gramps is more of a dad to me than my own.
I can’t let Gramps down.
I can’t lose this shop.
My eyes skim over today’s numbers, but the ball of stress in my stomach grows. I tally out the register and sigh. Fuck. Numbers don’t lie. Every day, the debt grows worse as it continues to snowball.
I double check my schedule for tomorrow, confirming appointments and surfboard repairs and the maintenance I have booked. Not the amount I need, but better than nothing.
“Everything okay over there?” Gramps asks.
“Yeah, business is a bit slow, but I’m hoping it’ll pick up going into the summer.”
“Last summer was busy if I do recall. Don’t worry, son. Things have a way of working out. I picked up some fresh fish at the market earlier. Wanna go fry them up?”