Lorelie Brown - Riding the Wave

“Stay the fuck away from them.”

Mako’s lips curled into a smile but Tanner didn’t feel particularly reassured. Pretty much the opposite. Bile rose at the back of his throat. The guy flat-out sucked. “No. I’m not withdrawing my interview. Plus, I’m meeting Eileen and Sage. I’m tired of being the dirty secret who has to hide in the corner. It’ll be up to you whether you . . . soften them up first.”

Tanner wanted to vomit. Right on Mako’s bare toes if at all possible. “I’m not sure who I want to punch more. You or Hank.” Tanner couldn’t take any more. He turned to walk away, but the twenty-year-old part of him that still fucking resented what he’d learned about his father couldn’t resist. He flipped a bird back over his shoulder.

“Nice. Classy,” Mako said. “I feel almost like a real brother.”

“One thing I can promise you,” Tanner said as he walked away. “You’ll never be my brother.”

The north side of San Sebastian was lined by a state park. The south side abutted the very pricey homes of Damian Cove. To the east were the outer edges of less nice suburban sprawl that covered vast stretches of Southern California—of course, that was the area where Avalon’s mother lived.

The dingy condo complex was made up of a half dozen buildings, each with eight units. The unit Candy lived in was at the far back of the setup, but at least it overlooked the pool. It was a green-tinged pool where the local teenagers smoked pot. What a bonus.

On second thought, Candy probably did count it as a bonus when she was running low from her own suppliers. Easy access to score.

Avalon hitched the bag of groceries she carried a little higher and rang the bell. Quiet chimes echoed on the other side, followed by the clattering of high heels.

“Coming. Hold your horses,” Candy called. She always sounded like she was about to laugh, if that made any sort of sense. Like she was always poised on the verge of looking for fun, anticipating finding a good time.

The door popped opened. At least Candy’s smile didn’t falter when she saw Avalon, not this time. “Darling,” she cooed, “what a surprise.”

Avalon lifted her eyebrows on a tiny flush of annoyance. “Funny thing. When my mom calls and asks me to come by, I usually do.”

“You’re so responsible like that.” Candy managed to make it sound like an indictment.

She fluttered a hand, then pushed back a heavy fall of bright blond hair. For an afternoon with no company expected, she was certainly dressed well. Her capris clung to a carefully maintained figure and the low-cut silk blouse showed off plenty of assets. The boyfriend she’d had during Avalon’s junior year of high school had paid for those.

Avalon had spent three weeks straight at the Wright house while her mom “recovered” from the surgery. Sure, the last week of recovery had been in Vegas, but, as Candy explained, sometimes a girl needed a little mental recovery after the physical stuff.

Avalon gave the brown bag in her arms a little wiggle. “Mind if I come in, Mother?”

“Oh! Of course not,” Candy said on a wide smile. She opened the door with an extra flourish and stepped back. Her four-inch heels clattered over linoleum as she led the way toward the kitchen.

Avalon set the bag on the island. Sometimes Avalon swore Candy dated blue-collar men so she could bring them home and have them do chores. Hopefully she’d date a tile worker soon. She could do with some new counters. The white tile had lost its glaze over the years and the grout needed replacing, but her mom would spend thousands on clothing before she sank a penny on home repair, if she could help it.

In the fridge, Avalon found nothing but a box of wine and stacked take-out boxes. She shook her head. “You live like a frat boy, Mom.”

Candy slipped onto a barstool. She already had a glass of white wine between her fingers. “That sounds a little like envy, darling.”

Avalon managed to hold back the snort as she filled her mom’s vegetable drawers with an assortment of fruit. She’d gotten the prewashed, precut versions along with a couple expensive tubs of ready-to-eat berries. If she hadn’t, the stuff would be wilting and molding the next time she came by.

Her mom liked stuff the easy way. She’d lived her whole life by the model, and in a way it was working out for her.

“I have good news,” Avalon said, but she kept her face carefully turned toward the fridge. There were certain concessions she had to make in order to keep at least a semblance of a mother-daughter relationship going. One of those meant not looking her mother in the eyes at certain times, in order to not see the disappointment.

“Oh?” Even without looking, Avalon could picture Candy’s carefully manicured, filled-in brows lifting and her highly lipsticked lips parting. “Did you finally snag yourself a man?”

The sting didn’t go away, not even when compared to the hot rush of thoughts of Tanner. The two feelings wove together under her skin in an uncomfortable mix.

That mixed slush of feeling was one of the hardest parts of her relationship with her mother. Avalon had never been able to come to terms with the fact that she still desperately loved the same woman she resented.

She shook her head, carefully keeping her hands from shaking as she loaded a package of pineapple slices in the bottom drawer. “No. I got an awesome commission.”

“Oh.” The disappointment was audible in one tiny syllable. “You’ve put so much stock in that career of yours. It’s about time it started to take off. What’s the commission?”

There, that was almost the validation she needed. If she didn’t see her mother’s face, she could pretend that there wouldn’t be a tiny sneer of disgust knotted on her forehead. “I’m following Tanner Wright for the month leading up to the Sebastian Pro. Documentary-style. He’s got a good chance at winning the WCT, exactly ten years after his first championship. It’s a huge opportunity for me. Guaranteed spread in SURFING magazine. This could be my big break.”

She had to explain these little details because her mother made absolutely no pretense of following either Avalon’s surrogate family or the world in which Avalon had built her life. Surfing was nothing to her mother except that thing Avalon did.

“Tanner Wright?” Candy laughed and then the wineglass clinked against the tile counter. “I knew I made the right call all those years ago.”

“What call?” Avalon said, almost against her will. She winced as soon as it came out of her mouth.

“Why, letting you spend all that time with the Wrights. I knew they’d set you up well, and just look.”

Avalon ran out of things to put away. She shut the fridge and carefully laid the brown bag out on the counter. Her hands worked at folding the sack as she looked up from under her lashes.

The expression on her mother’s delicate features was a little difficult to interpret. Or maybe, difficult to understand. Her collagen-plumped mouth seemed set in a self-satisfied smile and Avalon couldn’t understand what she thought she’d done that was so great.

She’d let Avalon spend time with Sage under Eileen’s guidance because it was easier. It had taken less time out of her dating schedule. Explaining the sullen thirteen-year-old girl sitting on the couch was a little bit difficult when she’d led her boyfriend to believe she was only twenty-nine.

Though lately she’d given up twenty-nine for thirty-nine. She couldn’t keep that gig up forever, much to her chagrin.

“Mom, repeat after me: Congratulations, Avalon.”

She lifted the glass of wine and took a healthy swallow. “What? I already said congratulations.”