Who wants to slap Casey’s face.
Instead she comes over and hugs him and tells him she loves him, that he’s going to shred this Monsters contest tomorrow, and she’s going to be there to tow him in and get him to the rescue sled if he needs it, but you won’t need it, because you’re going to tie for first place with Brock and you’ll have to split the money and saw the trophy in half and we’ll put both halves in the lobby of the new Barrel by John’s bronze.
John, she thinks, feeling Casey’s face warm and wet with her tears.
John, whom she had promised to love and protect all those years ago, back when she truly believed she could.
Bette Wu knocks on Jen’s door just after midnight.
Through the peephole, Jen bores in on the composed, pretty face.
And opens the door. “I suppose you have a gun.”
Bette glances down the hallway each way. “In my purse. You should let me in.”
Jen unlatches the chain and closes the door behind Bette, who takes the couch and sets her purse on the coffee table. Jen sits near the little gas fireplace, rippling with flame.
“What do you want?” she asks.
“To get you another check,” Bette says.
“Don’t bother. I’ll tear it up, too.”
“It will make your rebuild go faster, and let you use first-quality materials and labor. You can be open again by summer, bringing in money.”
“You can’t buy my restaurant, or me. Or Casey.”
“I’m not trying to buy your restaurant or you. I feel your disgust for me. But I do want Casey. He’s a generous soul. He’s beautiful. He can be the most famous and well-paid surfer in the world. I’d love to help him be that.”
“You don’t deserve him.”
“So much hate, Jen Stonebreaker. You detest me, but that’s okay. I’ve been down that road. But—with respect—Casey no longer needs you. He’s no longer yours. He’s a grown man with a good mind, a strong heart, and a brilliant future. He needs me now, and I intend to be a part of him.”
“You’re just trying to cash in.”
“Who wouldn’t? But I’ll do well when he does well. And, we should be truthful here—cashing in is only a small part of everything. We will make our own new path in history.”
Bette goes to the fireplace, rubs her hands near the glass. “I could never live up here in this cold. I was born in Southern California and I hope to die there.”
“Be my guest.”
“I’ve enjoyed the articles about you and John in Surf Tribe. You’re a good writer and your heart shows complexity. I can’t wait for part five.”
“Maybe next week. It’ll be the last.”
“You have to write about this contest, which I think Casey will win.”
Jen considers Casey’s chances for the thousandth time. Brock’s, too.
And her own.
“What do you want?”
Bette, rubbing her hands, returns to the couch.
“I want to tell you how I see Casey,” she says. “It will clarify my actions.”
“Clarify away, Bette.”
“The first time I saw him, I saw in Casey what you saw in John Stonebreaker when you were twelve. When you saw him rolling that trash can to the sidewalk up in Top of the World. I was sitting in your bar at the Barrel.”
“Not mutilating sharks off Desperation Reef?”
“I have never finned. I fish. Like Casey.”
“What did you see in him, bartending at the Barrel?” Jen asks.
“A beautiful, powerful man. Composed and focused. But that was only how he looked. I wanted to know the inside of him. I came to the Barrel again but it was his night off. He was there a few nights later, but it was crowded and there was no way to talk to him, or even get close. He was surrounded by beautiful women and men. I gave up and put him out of my mind. Later he caught some of us pirates shark-finning, and posted his videos. Two days after that, I went to the Barrel early, before happy hour, and he was there.”
“After kidnapping Mae.”
“I borrowed Mae. She followed me for the treat in my hand. I would never have hurt her. I was able to talk to Casey. I dressed well and introduced myself as the pirate in his videos, and asked him to take them down. I really wanted those videos off the net. And also, I wanted to look at Casey, and listen to his voice, and try to get inside him. I did. What I saw was goodness and innocence and love. Of Mae. I saw the pain in him, his worry for her. In your article you said that after watching John surf Rockpile, you were going to be John. You were twelve years old then and you knew exactly what you wanted. When you were seventeen, you gave yourself to him after Cortes Bank. Well, Mrs. Stonebreaker, I was twenty-seven when I walked out of the Barrel bar, wanting to be Casey. Your son. John’s son.”
“Nonsense.”
Through the sliding door curtain, Jen watches the headlights down on Capistrano. A gust blows the rain against the glass with a sudden swoosh.
“Your mouth says that, but your heart knows it is not nonsense at all,” says Bette.
