Page 44 of Beached Wedding

“Hardly.” She grabbed at my arm as a wave hit the backs of her knees and she almost toppled into the water.

I steadied her with a grin. “Don’t turn your back on the waves. Maybe ease up on the drinking, too.”

She forgot her hostility toward me and giggled, found her footing, and turned to watch another guest pop up to a crouch and slither along the face of a modest swell, tumbling into the wash a few seconds later.

“How long did it take you to get good?”

“Keeping in mind that ‘good’ is subjective, not long. But I was taught by a pro. Sandy took us every day, before and after school. We barely had time for homework. Definitely no time for getting into trouble.”

Fliss’s face blanked. “Sandy surfs?”

“When she was younger. You didn’t know that? She’s famous in Oz. She’s in their sports hall of fame and everything.”

Her brow crinkled, suspecting I was having a go. Given Sandy was sixty, had a bad limp, and her mobility issues had caused her to gain a lot of weight, it was easy to miss how athletic she still was.

“Struth,” I said. “These days she only gets out maybe once a week as part of her work with an adaptive surf club for people with disabilities. That’s what gave Ash the idea for our Do It Your Way segments.”

“Oh, like when Shane interviews someone who uses a wheelchair or has low vision, but they learn to surf. I like those. They make me think that I don’t have to do everything exactly like everyone else. Just think outside the box and you can do anything.”

“Exactly. Thank you. It was such an obvious fit for us, but Shane and I didn’t see it. I only knew our sales had plateaued and it was eating at me because our reputation was solid. Ash did an online survey to find out more about our customer base and we learned that T&B was seen as only for elite athletes. Part of that was the Holloway legacy. Also, Shane was only interviewing top level surfers.”

“I like those, too. Like, the girl on the wave that was so huge?” Her eyes went big. “I thought she was going to die.”

“We’ll keep doing those,” I said with a chuckle. “But once we started mixing it up with competitive and adaptive and weekend warriors who bring dogs or kids, our customer base exploded.”

“Did you compete?”

“Nah. I always tagged along for Shane’s training, but Sandy pretty much birthed her sons in the ocean and taught them to swim before they could walk. I couldn’t catch up to that.”

“Shane has a brother?” Fliss shaded her eyes as she looked up at me, puzzled by this new information.

Oops. Not my story to tell, but, “Marcus died in the car accident that wrecked Sandy’s hip.”

“Oh. Did Shane get hurt?”

“Sandy was on her way to fetch him from a friend’s house. Eddie was at work. It was someone trying to outrun the police on a rainy afternoon.”

“That’s awful.”

“Yeah. It happened about a year before I went to Sydney. They moved in next door to Vicky and Mitchell a few weeks after I arrived. I had started school, but hadn’t made any friends. I was pretty much hating my entire life. Vicky saw a boy my age and dragged me over to help carry boxes into their house.”

“How old were you?”

“Ten. I got in the way more than anything, but Sandy was still on crutches and appreciated the help.” From then on, she invited me along on whatever they were doing. Surfing, camping trips, a night at the movies.

I suspected their family had needed a leg that propped up the dinner table after one had been broken out. I didn’t match, but at least I kept the whole thing from collapsing. I didn’t mind because at least I had a place where I felt wanted. Back then, as far as Mitchell had been concerned, I was a fifth wheel.

Ryan hurled himself into the water at my feet, splashing us as he landed on his hands and knees in a retreating wave. He popped his wet head up. He wore a grin and his eyelashes sparkled.

“You’re a nut,” I said.

“We just saw Eddie and Sandy.” Ashley came up with Ryan’s PFD dangling off one arm. “They said they’re buying if we want a burger.”

Ashley wore a straw hat, sunnies, and a white bathing suit cover-up that was more eyelet than yarn. It somehow made her hot pink bikini, with its demi-cups and metal rings that revealed her side-boob, even sexier. The skirt barely covered her juicy ass before fluttering against her honey-gold thighs.

With a heroic effort, I forced my gaze back to Ryan.

“I’m hungry,” Ryan stood to declare. He promptly got knocked over by a wave.

---