“Dan, how much do I owe you for the bass?” Todd asked, his voice now a bit more on edge.
“I’ll take one forty even.”
Todd pulled a wad of cash out of his pocket and counted out the bills before passing them over. Daniel took the money, stuffed it into his money pouch, and passed over the wrapped fish.
“Be sure to stop by the table tomorrow. I’m taking the boat over to Stump Sound for oysters.”
“Where’s that?” I asked.
“The backside of Topsail Island’s north end, near enough to the Atlantic to create a salty oyster, but sheltered from strong currents, making them easy to farm. You should come with me and check it out,” Daniel said.
“I’ll text you in the morning if I can make it,” Todd said.
Daniel turned to me. “What about you?”
“Me?”
“Yeah, want to try your hand at oyster harvesting? Low tide’s around 11:00. That’s the best time to go.”
“I don’t know. I’d have to see what I have going on tomorrow.”
“Joanna’s staying at the Retreat House for a Breakup Boot Camp,” Todd said flatly.
I did a double take. For someone who, less than an hour ago, told me he didn’t judge me for taking part in the Boot Camp, his tone certainly sounded disapproving.
Some local shoppers started to crowd the tent. The guys working at the stand were tossing wrapped fish back and forth like I’d seen the fishmongers do at the Pike Place Fish Market in Seattle.
“Breakup camp, so, you’re single then?” Daniel said with a twinkle in his eye.
I was momentarily mesmerized by the flying fish. “What? Oh, right. I guess I am single.”
“I should get back to the hotel to start prepping dinner. Your ankle must be pretty sore. Can I give you a ride back on my bike?” Todd asked.
“That’s okay. I was gonna walk. There are a few more places I want to check out in town before heading back.” I reached into my backpack and pulled out the book from the pirate shop. “But, before I forget, this is for you.”
“What’s this?”
“Something to thank you for helping me off the rocks.”
Todd took the package and held it to his chest.
“So, tomorrow? The oysters?” Daniel asked again.
“Sure, man, I’ll join you,” Todd answered, “but only if Joanna agrees to come.”
“I’ll tell you what, I’ll go oyster harvesting if you’ll see Romeo and Juliet with me.”
“Deal.”
Chapter Twenty
The next morning, I woke up at 5:00, threw back a couple of Advil just in case my ankle started to act up again, and joined Emmy at the surf school. The crew at the whitewashed shed with the words Happiness Comes in Waves spray-painted across the front door, fitted us with wet suits and boards and sent us down the beach to join the rest of the class. The session lasted about two hours, with the instructors giving a short introduction of the surf spot, going through the safety rules, and presenting the surfing equipment. We did a warm-up on land, followed by instruction on how to position our bodies on the board, how to pop up, and basic steering maneuvers.
Afterward, we moved into the white water, the part of the wave that has already broken. Austin, the head of the surf school, explained that the white water is the most forgiving part of the wave, as it doesn’t have much speed or power and is the best place to practice the basic techniques, starting with paddling.
“Use the crawl stroke in order to maintain a constant speed, all the while controlling your breathing, just as you would when jogging,” Austin yelled from his board.
We all followed suit, paddling farther into the white water. Austin turned his board around to face us.
“After you’ve gotten comfortable with lying on your surfboard and paddling, it’s time for the pop up. You want to start out in a low-balance position and then extend the legs and recover your balance like this.” Austin placed his hands on the front end of the surfboard, then, like a jungle cat perusing prey, he sprang up from his knees to a full stance.
I tried to mimic Austin’s motions, my wobbly knees almost giving way. I pushed all my weight down into my throbbing ankles, sucked in my core, threw my arms open for balance, and somehow managed to stay upright. Emmy looked over at me, giving me two large thumbs-up.
After another twenty minutes, when we began to show some mastery of the pop up, Austin led us from the white water to unbroken waves, also known as green waves, to play with our speed and learn to turn in both directions.
Austin sprang up on his board. “When choosing which wave to catch, you want to look at the horizon line, compare the skyline with the wave’s angle, identify the highest point of the wave, and then paddle toward it. Try to notice if the waves are organized with predictable peaks that begin to break in roughly the same place. If the peaks are shifty and erratic, steer clear. Another, more stable wave will come,” Austin said.
Emmy paddled over to me and whispered, “Good advice for choosing a wave and a man.” She wasn’t wrong.
We spent the next hour on the water working on different skills, while Austin and the other instructors circled around on their boards, sharing pointers, tips, and tricks. Maybe it was her extensive dance training or just pure ability, but Emmy already looked like a pro. She caught wave after wave, elegantly riding them to the shore before paddling back out to the break.
Once I mastered the pop up and fully appreciated my center of gravity, I started to improve. By the end of the lesson I’d managed to wrangle a few waves, staying upright for at least half of them.
Austin blew on his whistle and waved his hands in the air. “Come on everyone, let’s bring it on in.”
I paddled back to the beach, dragging the board, which was still attached to my good ankle, back onto the sand.
“What’d you think?” Austin asked.
“Surfing is way more of a workout than I realized. Puts Benji’s Bridal Boot Camp to shame.”
“Benji’s Bridal Boot Camp?”
“A fitness class with a bit of a cult following in New York City.”
“And you were one of its blind disciples?’
I cracked a smile. “The blindest.”
Emmy came up behind us. “How freakin’ amazing were those waves? That last set was sick.”
“Sick,” Austin repeated, giving her a high five. “I know that look—you’re hooked, aren’t you?”
“I already called my manager to start looking at houses on the beach in Malibu.”
Austin shook his head, smiling before heading back to the shed.
Emmy turned to me. “I’m gonna take a shower and then grab some green juice at the spa. What are you up to?”
“I have a session with Dr. P at 9:00.”
“Lucky you,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Want to meet up at the pool afterward?”
Before I could answer, Todd came down the beach with his surfboard, his tight black wet suit emphasizing his fit body and muscular physique. He bent down at the shoreline, pooled some water in his hand, and used it to slick his sandy hair back and out of his eyes.
Emmy pushed her sunglasses down the bridge of her nose. “Well, hellooooo, gorgeous,” she said, mimicking Barbara Streisand perfectly. “Who is he?”