Jill Sorenson - Risky Christmas

“Mom’s afraid of water,” Mandy announced.

Brian glanced at Leah in surprise.

She peeled the second orange, her cheeks heating. “I don’t like deep water. Or big waves.”

“How big?”

“Over my head.”

“Those are the best kind.”

“For surfing, you mean?”

“Yeah. The bigger the wave, the better the ride. They go fast and break clean. And deep water is much less dangerous to wipe out in.”

She ate another slice of orange. “That makes sense.”

“Can you swim?”

“No,” she admitted. “The girls have taken lessons but I…can’t bring myself to.”

He gave her a curious look. “Is it just the ocean you’re afraid of, or all water?”

“All water, I guess. Lakes, oceans…swimming pools.” Before he could ask where her fear originated, she steered the conversation in a different direction. “Why do you like surfing so much?”

“I’ll tell you on the way to the jetty,” he said, jerking his chin toward it. “The waves aren’t even knee-high today. It’s perfectly safe.”

She rose, brushing the sand off her bottom. “All right.”

Mandy leapt to her feet. Alyssa forgot her tears and ran along the shore with her sister. It was about a quarter mile to the jetty so they had a few minutes to talk. The girls were within shouting distance, but couldn’t overhear their quiet conversation.

Leah crossed her arms over her chest, aware that the front of her tank top was damp from hugging Alyssa. Although she had a bra on, the white fabric looked transparent and she felt self-conscious.

Brian averted his eyes, as if he’d noticed her wet shirt but was too polite to stare. “One of my mom’s boyfriends taught me to surf,” he said, hands in his pockets. “It was the first time I remember feeling safe.”

She studied his face, unable to fathom an experience so opposite her own. Her worst childhood memory involved water.

“Out there, it’s quiet. Peaceful. You’re with other people, but alone. You have to be patient and wait for the right wave to come along. There’s no rushing, no pushing. Another surfer can drop in on you and steal your turn, but that’s rare, and it’s impossible to paddle close enough to get in a fistfight.”

Leah wondered if he’d grown up in an abusive home. She couldn’t imagine feeling more at ease in a turbulent ocean than on land. Troubled past aside, he had a calming presence and exuded self-confidence. His easy manner, matched with that unflinching honesty, made him seem kind of invincible.

Some men grew stronger through adversity.

“I first started surfing to escape my problems. Now I think it helps me deal with them. I always feel better when I come in from a session.”

“Cooking is like that for me.”

“Is it?”

“Yes. I have certain dishes I make when I need to sort out my thoughts. I like to let my mind go blank and just focus on the task.”

He nodded, pleased that she understood.

“What happened to your mom’s boyfriend?” she asked.

“I don’t know. He wasn’t around for long, but he left a hell of a lot better impression than the others. I was sorry to see him go.”

When they arrived at the jetty, Brian climbed onto the path ahead of Mandy while Leah trailed after them, holding Alyssa’s hand. Being near deep water always made her uneasy, but his relaxed attitude reassured her. He hadn’t laughed at her or dismissed her fears. Without pushing, he’d encouraged her to step out of her comfort zone.

Maybe some of his assuredness would rub off on her.

They walked to the end of the jetty, watching power-boats and ocean barges in the distance. Leah picked up Alyssa, propping her on one hip. Brian put his hand on Mandy’s shoulder, pointing toward the rippling water. “Look, a dolphin.”

“Where?” she asked, searching the horizon.

“Just past that orange buoy.”

While they waited, breathless, the dolphin arced across the surface again. A second dolphin followed close behind, its curved back glimmering in the sun.

“Another one,” Mandy said.

Alyssa gasped. “I see it!”

Leah’s eyes met Brian’s and they smiled, sharing the moment of wonder. Her heart did a funny little jump inside her chest, half pain, half joy. She wished John was here beside her, but doubted he’d have appreciated the sight.

Swallowing hard, she tore her gaze away. It seemed strange to enjoy another man’s company, and unfair to compare him to her husband. She’d been unhappy with John and she hardly knew Brian.

Nor could she get to know him. In the past twenty-four hours, they’d exchanged a meal and shared some very personal information. It was almost as if they’d skipped the acquaintance stage—and she wasn’t supposed to make close connections.

She certainly couldn’t risk being more than friends.

Her pulse throbbed with the realization that the idea appealed to her. He was handsome and compelling, an irresistible combination of light and dark. He had strong, callused hands. She wanted him to touch her.

“I have to go,” she blurted.

If he was disappointed by her announcement, he didn’t show it. They headed back and the girls danced along the shore once again, kicking up sand and saltwater. Leah avoided Brian’s gaze and he made no attempt to engage her in conversation.

He didn’t speak at all until they reached his front walk. “Thanks for bringing me along,” he said. “It was nice.”

Mandy and Alyssa ran next door and started ringing the bell for fun, a move that never failed to exasperate Leah.

Brian took one look at her annoyed expression and laughed. “They like to try your patience.”

“Constantly.”

“It’s a good sign. Kids are supposed to misbehave.”

Leah thought it might be a sign of lax discipline, but she kept that to herself. It was clear that he preferred her parenting style over whatever he’d experienced as a child. At best, he’d been neglected.

“Why don’t you let me give you a swimming lesson?”

“Stop that!” she called out to the girls, dodging his question. The idea of diving into the ocean terrified her.

“I know a place with a heated pool. No big waves.”

“That’s a very kind offer, but I can’t.”

His eyes drifted south, settling on her damp tank top for a split second before rising back to her face. “Okay.”

She forced a smile. Although she wanted to linger, she said goodbye and hurried away. Every moment she spent with him made her long for another, and she couldn’t bear to pin her heart on false hopes.

She’d had enough loss in her life.

The week passed quickly.

Leah kept busy with the girls, taking them to the park and the movies and even the San Diego Zoo. They enjoyed a glorious stretch of warm weather. The winter break would be over soon, so she was glad they’d made the most of their time.

Brian had been relegated to the back of her mind.

Mostly.

The girls spoke of him less often and no longer begged to pay him a visit. Like all children, they had short attention spans. Soon they would stop asking about him.

Leah couldn’t forget him so easily. He’d always been visible, walking to the beach, working out of his truck. Now his presence seemed magnified. They exchanged polite smiles but avoided meaningful eye contact. It was difficult to pretend he wasn’t there. She felt him, even when she couldn’t see him. She wondered if he felt her.

By Friday afternoon she’d grown restless. Before Brian knocked on her door, her lackluster existence had been bearable. His vibrancy and strength made her long for the things she didn’t know she’d missed.

Cooking usually improved her outlook, so she decided to go to the market. Maybe a plate of fun party snacks would fill the emptiness inside her. It was almost New Year’s Eve. She could pretend she was hosting an upscale soiree.