Page 49 of Assigned

Chapter Twenty-One

Riley

Ileft the barbeque, saying only a quick goodbye to Marge, Inara, and Taya. It’s a pure wonder I don’t get in an accident on the way home. I’m so mad I could spit. Lucas shouldn’t have done that. It was a violation of my privacy and it was just plain stupid. He really doesn’t get it. He never seems to see when he’s about to go too far, push too hard, ask too much.

Sure, he wants to help. He wants to protect. It’s who he is and what I admire about him, but that doesn’t mean he gets to eclipse who I am and what I want to do. He doesn’t always know what’s best, especially if he doesn’t bother asking.

I pull into the driveway, and when the garage door goes up, I see my board and know exactly what I need to do to feel better. After going inside to change into my bathing suit, then putting on my orange short-sleeve rash guard, I head back downstairs and into the kitchen where I scribble a note on a Post-It, then stick it on the fridge so Lucas will know where I’ve gone. While I’m pissed at him, there’s no need to make him worry about my whereabouts.

I quickly grab my board, and then I’m on my way to the beach.

The drive and briny smell of the ocean, plus the warm rays of sunshine, calm my emotions enough so that when I arrive, I’m able to put all my energy into the task at hand.

“Hey, Riley.” Brian waves to me from behind the Gold Star Family Surf School table as I walk up. “I thought you were taking the day off.”

“I thought I was, too, but my plans changed. Figured I’d see if you needed any help down here.” The one sure thing I’ve found to get me out of my doldrums and put things in perspective is to do something for someone else. And I can’t think of anyone I’d more like to do things for than these kids who have all lost someone.

Brian smiles. “You know we always can use you. Wanna help Allison over there with the twelve-year-olds?”

I look over to where a fit, dark-skinned young woman is showing a group of pre-teens how to wax their boards. “Absolutely.” With a grin, I jog over to the group in time to help Allison show them all how to attach their leg ropes.

An hour later, Allison and I start to lead the group into the water. One of the mothers watching the lesson jogs across the hot sand toward me. She waves her hand in the air. “Excuse me.”

“Great.” The preteen girl with her brown hair braided huffs and crosses her arms after dropping the board to the ground. “Here we go.”

My gaze bounces between the girl and the woman.

“I’m so sorry to bother you. But we haven’t met. I’m Julie.” The woman extends her hand.

I take it and shake. “Riley.”

“I just wanted to ask you to keep more of an eye out for Tara. My daughter has Meniere’s disease, which causes severe vertigo. Can you please stay close by her side out there?”

“Geez, Mom. Can’t you just let me do something for myself for once? Why do you have to tell everyone to watch out for me?”

My brow lifts and I bite the inside of my cheek. How many times I’ve wanted to scream that at my own mother? How many times I actually did? I glance back over to the woman and nod. “Will do.”

Tara rolls her eyes, picks up her board, and makes her way toward the water. I follow, seeing myself as the preteen stomps through the sand and into the surf. Guess I’m not the only one whose loved ones seem to put their business out there.

I stand in the surf, the cold water at waist level, watching all seven of our group bellyboarding toward the beach. One kid even manages to pop up and ride the small wave in. The look on his face is pure delight. I know how that power and connection to the ocean feels and my heart brims with the knowledge I’ve helped give a kid who’s had to face grief at way too young an age an experience he’ll be able to enjoy for years to come. For a moment, I try to imagine Mason’s face with that kind of smile. I want so much to give that to him, to share my love of the ocean and the sport, but I’m not sure Lucas and I are destined to make it. So much seems to stand in our way. Every time the road in front of us seems clear, another obstacle pops up.

As if my thoughts had conjured him, I turn toward the shoreline to find Lucas standing a few feet from Tara’s mother. Great. This was supposed to be my getaway. My place away from any argument. But seems my husband decided otherwise.

When I face the kids once more, I spot Tara struggling on the board, her knuckles white as she grips the corners with eyes squeezed shut. After wading over to her, I place my hand on the center of her back. “Are you okay?”

“Fine.”

I know that tone. I’ve given off the same one. Which means the real answer is “no” and that Tara wants the truth to remain hidden. I purse my lips and take a deep, centering breath. Okay, her mother said she had a disease that gives her vertigo. So, severe dizziness.

I take a step back and analyze my surroundings. Tara’s board is bobbing a lot in the water, which has become a bit choppy. She’s also lying on her belly with her eyes closed. I scratch my head and try to think of a way to help, yet allow her to finish the activity.

“Tara, sit up and open your eyes. I want to try something.”

“Don’t need your help.”

I snort, then catch myself. But my reaction catches her attention and she glowers at me. I hold up a hand, palm facing her. “I don’t find this funny. I suffer from something, too, and you sound just like me. I kinda can relate.”

Tara’s face softens a bit and she grunts as she lifts her body up. When she sways, I take a step in and place a hand on her back. “See that blond guy about ten feet from your mom? Concentrate on him. Focus on his face.”

---