Kicking Sideways - Chapter ONE

“Do you have any more sex wax left?”

Behind the counter, Mike whirled around at the female voice, his first customer at his new job at Carmen’s Surf Shack, and froze.

The woman’s gray eyes were like a November day in New England, reminding him of wild waves and wilder rain. Somewhere in the steel orbs flecks of warm light called him home. A deep ache tugged at his heart, and he knew, without a doubt, that she was the one to--

“Mr. Zog’s. There aren’t any more on the shelves.”

Her words split his trance and he swooped down and grabbed a can from the open carton near his feet, the shipment he’d planned to stock after lunch. “Here you go,” he said, handing her the round tin as he studied the setting of those rocky coastline eyes. She was a typical surfer girl, all blond and gold in frayed cut-offs and hot pink tank top. He breathed a sigh of relief. Pure California. No danger of being bewitched here. There was nothing magical about California, which is why he came here, far from his haunts in Northampton. Still, those eyes…

“Anything else?”

She rested her forearms on the counter as she squinted at the shelves of surfing supplies behind it. She straightened and reached into her knapsack for her wallet. “No, nothing else. Just the wax, thanks.”

Mike rang up the sale and tried to ignore the quake in his heart as he sensed those hurricane eyes focus on him.

~ * ~

He was the last person she’d expect to be working in a sunny surf shop on the Boardwalk of Santa Cruz. He was all lean muscle in black jeans and a worn black tee shirt with the sleeves ripped off. That part fit the beach, yet with that black forelock that fell over one eye, short sideburns, and lips of Elvis quality, she would expect to see him on a stage at the local rock club, far away from daylight.

He stared at her, though, with those wide eyes the color of small miracles, and for a moment she felt as if she’d been sucked into a strange spell. She tossed her head to shake off the rare distraction. Too much sun today, Cree, she thought and said aloud, “You’re new here.”

When he smiled, blue lightning danced in his eyes, momentarily dizzying her. He nodded. “Just moved here two days ago from back East.” She handed him a twenty. “Figured I give California a chance,” he finished.

Something fleeting in his expression reminded Cree of a lost child. She’d seen too many of those in this city--kids running to the golden land to chase a dream only to end up on the streets owning nothing but backpacks of broken wishes.

He was no kid but she guessed he was just another drifter. Most likely, she guessed, he’d end up on the streets like the rest of them. Nothing special here, she decided. Just another one in need of saving.

She pressed her lips together and took her change. “Well,” she clipped. “Good luck.”

“Wait!” he barked as she turned away. She faced him again and inclined her head.

~ * ~

Man, he thought. Something about her, not only her New England eyes, tugged at him and he didn’t want her to walk out of the shop until he chewed over what that something was. “What, uh,” Mike stuttered and tried to ignore her impatient expression. “Why is it called sex wax, anyway?”

Her sudden laugh was a magic charm and he forgot his burning cheeks and grinned as she approached the counter again. “Not a surfer, huh?”

“Nope. Just working here for some pocket change.”

“I don’t have a clue. It’s catchy, though, isn’t it?” She lingered, her shadowy eyes kind, and tilted her head at him. “I hope you find what you’re looking for here. This place can be…deceiving.”

Her warning tone intrigued him. Maybe there was more to California than he’d thought. Maybe there really were vampires prowling this little beach town just like in the movies. A burst of excitement sprinkled through him.

“What do you mean?” He leaned forward, rested his palms on the counter.

The tip of her tongue peeked from the corner of her mouth as she appeared to choose her words. “A lot of people come here looking for--how shall I put this?--‘the way, man,’ but they are quick to lose their own way. Don’t let that happen to you.”

He laughed. “I’m thirty-one. If I haven’t found my way by now then I think I’m in big trouble, but I appreciate the advice. I’m Mike, by the way.”

He held out his hand and she grasped it, shook it briskly. “Cree.”

Her smile was fleeting but it lit those eyes and he fell just a little bit in love with her, just for a second. “You know, I may have found ‘the way’ but I could use a little help finding my way around here. You want to show me around Santa Cruz sometime? Maybe check out the Mystery Spot?”

He cringed the moment he said it and Cree dropped his hand, arched a brow.

“I don’t think so.” With a look of cool disdain, she turned and marched out of the shop.

“Good one, Sullivan.” His manager, Carmen, slapped him on the shoulder with a shake of the head. “You have a way, all right, a way to chase hot babes right out the door.” He chortled and vanished into the back room.

Mike groaned. “You wanna check out the Mystery Spot?” he mimicked and felt his face flame. He recalled her scornful look and flushed once again. No doubt she thought he was a typical meathead.

The thing was that he really did want to visit the Mystery Spot he’d read so much about. He had no clue why he’d been suddenly inclined to ask her anyway. The words were out of his mouth before he had a chance to think. Cree was blond and light and everything that didn’t attract him. Not that he hadn’t pictured her naked the whole time they talked. He was, after all, a man.

But what words! He’d only felt shame the times he’d witnessed members of his gender sidle up to an unsuspecting female and attempt to seduce her with stupidity.

Now he felt a sorry kinship with his brethren.

Oh well, he thought as he hoisted the carton of sex wax onto the stool next to him, no doubt it’s for the best. With a long sigh, he slapped his hands on the counter and straightened, still bothered that she’d left the shop thinking that he was a jerk.

~ * ~

Annoyance filtered through Cree as she drove out of the city and onto Highway 1 toward Davenport. Stupid men. Their porcine natures unfailingly blasted out sooner rather than later. The Mystery Spot, she thought with a grunt, now that was an especially see-through one.

She was taken by surprise, though, when he’d belted out a witless line so soon. She’d felt strangely drawn to him, a fact that bothered her but no longer concerned her. Not that she would have gone out with him if he’d asked her politely.

Too many responsibilities dwelled in her life and she had no time for romance. Ellen and Seth needed her, as would a whole world of women when Polly’s opened this winter. Besides, Cree knew too well where love brought you and she would never sacrifice herself on that altar.

She turned on to the dirt and gravel road of her property, her good mood restored. The Jeep tore up the long road that wound to her farm, past the small house on the bluffs just beyond the scrub, and through the copse of pines that bordered her front yard. She parked in front of the rambling three-story farmhouse where Ellen rocked in the old wicker chair on the front porch.

“Hullo, hullo!” Ellen bellowed and finished with a cackle. She eased out of the old rocker and hugged Cree. “How’s my girl?”

“Is he here? Is he here?” Seth burst through the screen door, excitement etched on his thirteen year old face.

“Sethie! Hush!” Ellen hissed and gave Cree a wary glance.

Her brother skidded to a stop and his eyes widened when he saw her. “Uh oh,” he uttered.

“What’s going on, El? What’s Seth uh-ohing about?” She sniffed and let the wafting aroma of Ellen’s special tomato sauce touch her senses, but the smell of Ellen’s mind cooking one of her schemes was stronger. “Who’s he?”

“Now, Lucretia,” Ellen placated, an innocent look on her face. “There ain’t nothing to get riled about. It’s, ah, it’s jes a little birthday present I have for you.”

She clenched her fists as small fissures erupted inside her. “That’s funny since my birthday was last month, El.”

“And I got you a gift to the spa which you gave to your teacher friend there.” Her large jaw jutted out. “So it don’t count.”

“Stop trying to sidetrack me.” Cree advanced. “I smell a rat.”

“You wouldn’t hurt a decrepit old woman, would you?” Ellen edged toward the screen door. “Murderin’ an old lady in front of yer innocent little brother…”

“Don’t you bring Seth into this, El.” She turned to him and narrowed her eyes. “Although he’s not off the hook. Besides, I’m not going to kill you yet. It’s likely I will, knowing you, but you still haven’t told me what this is about. If a man in a suit appears with flowers for another blind date so help me, I’ll--”

“Well.” Her bottom lip protruded, a tell-tale sign that Cree had guessed correctly.

“Unbelievable.” She threw up her hands. “Cancel it.”

Ellen sputtered. “There is a man coming to dinner but it’s different, Lucretia, now hear me out. I told him he could stay at Cliff Cottage if’n--”

The fissures inside her tore wide open. “Ellen Reardon, enough!” Sucking in a great gulp of air, she forced serenity into her mind to keep from strangling her adopted grandmother. “Enough. I’ve endured all your underhanded attempts to marry me off, but this time you go too far on so many levels! Bringing someone to live here? Renting out Cliff Cottage--my Cliff Cottage, I’ll remind you, and--”

Ellen’s dark eyes flashed and her lips smacked apart, a tornado in her own anger, and Cree stilled. “Lucretia Cabot, I promised I would never match make again and I ain’t. And I didn’t rent it. He’s gonna live there in exchange for helping you out around here.”

“I don’t need help!”

“Yes you do. I ain’t watchin’ you spend your summer working like a dog to get this place done.” She took a wheezing breath. “If you want to finish Polly’s Place by opening day and move this family to the cottage then you’ll need help. I just skipped a step waiting for you to think of it that’s all.”

Her eyes grew mournful and her bottom lip pouted. “And that poor boy all the way from across the country. Not a soul to care for him and him needing all the help he can to get where he wants to be.”

Pity surged through Cree as she thought of all the homeless teens that lined the city’s streets, somehow blending in and forgotten amongst street musicians, aging hippies, and college kids. Her suspicion abated, just a little. She fingered her car keys. “You did this for Polly’s Place, then? No hidden agendas of candlelight and roses?”

Ellen straightened her wide shoulders. “No, ma’am. I learned my lesson trying to set you up.” Her lips twitched. “Clearly you are not meant for romancin’.”

Cree narrowed her eyes.

“I swear on my sweet Henry’s grave. I only want to help you start this place up and I’m too old to work and Seth don’t know how to fix fences and windows and…”

She held up her palm to Ellen. Pursing her lips as she measured her friend, she felt the fissures inside her begin to close. “Okay.” She inched toward the screen door, winked at her brother and started to enter the house when a new thought popped in her head. “But the cottage, Ellen! You know I was planning to move us in by summer’s end.”

“Now don’t you worry a mite,” she clucked. “Your tenant knows that it’s temp’rary.”

“My tenant,” Cree repeated and blew her bangs from her eyes. Great, another responsibility. Resigned, she sighed. “I don’t like it, El, not at all. But it’s not the boy’s fault that I have a meddling lunatic on my farm so I won’t send him away. But,” she warned, forefinger aimed at Ellen, “you make sure he knows it’s for the summer only, got it?”

Ellen smiled sweetly and Cree guessed she was sufficiently contrite so she grinned and gave her a quick kiss before opening the screen door. Seth hovered behind her.

“Don’t worry, Sethie. I won’t banish Ellen to the barn to bunk with Old Crumble, I promise.” She caressed his chin, gave it quick squeeze. “But you should have told me.”

“Sorry,” he mumbled, and she walked past him. As she stepped into the house, the smell of garlic and tomatoes assaulted her full force. “Yum. Smells great in here, El.”

“Lasagna. My Henry’s recipe. Dinner’s in an hour!” she called, containing her mirth until Lucretia had drifted far into the cool shadows of the house. “We fooled her, Sethie, we did,” she crowed.

“She was pissed,” he warned, looking a little pale.

“Pshaw.” Ellen waved her hand and started down the steps and around the side of the house. “And don’t swear. Here boy, give me a hand picking some greens for dinner.”

“Aw, do we have to?”

“Hush. You need some sort of vegetable in that scrawny body if you want to look like that Wolverine character yer always readin’ about.”

The garden gate squealed and she waddled through the narrow opening. “Shoulda brung my basket, dammit. Oh well, I s’pose that’s what you’re here for. She got over it quick enough, anyways, when I mentioned how alone he is.” She chuckled. “Like a knife in warm butter.”

Seth paused, a clump of lettuce in one hand, and peeked up at Ellen. “Pretty brilliant, El. But she’ll kill you once she finds out the truth.”

“She’ll do no such thing. She’ll just bray at me like that temperamental mule of hers.” Ellen smacked her toothless gums. “’Sides, I ain’t matchmaking. I simply hired a handyman for the place.”

Seth tossed her a sly look. “Yeah, right. Funny, ‘cuz I don’t remember handyman as one of the things he does.”

“Some people have hidden talents, boy. And mebbe you just missed it.”

“Ellen, you made me go through all that hassle of making a web page, writing all those stupid emails and reading every application that all those people sent, so I didn’t miss it. I know everything about him.”

“And you best be keeping that one to yourself, boy,” she hissed at him. “Once Cree finds out he’s not some poor lost boy, she’ll boot him right out of here. She’s gonna be none too happy when she sees that he’s a full grown man and not some runaway as ‘tis.”

“She’ll find out anyway. He’ll tell her he’s famous and rich and she won’t ever notice him again. Besides, it might not work. Cree doesn’t like guys and she’s not his type.”

She peered at him down her nose. “And how would you know?”

“’Cuz I read his stuff. He doesn’t like strict blond ladies.”

Ellen stilled. She gazed over his head, toward the house. “Naw. He’ll like her. And I gather that he’s the type who won’t run skeered from her like all them suits did and then she’ll spend more time makin’ babies and less time trying to fix people.”

Seth blushed when Ellen started talking about making babies. “That’s gross, Ellen, and it’s not going to work. Cree likes fixing people, it makes her happy, and it’s kinda cool ‘cuz, um…” He turned a shade redder and looked at his feet.

“Well?” She stopped picking. “Spit it out, boy.”

“I wouldn’t have met you if she wasn’t like she is,” he said and gnawed his lip.

She squeezed his arm. “Now that’s mutual-like, Sethie. But your sister ain’t happy. No, she’s not. She’s just surviving and there’s a big difference. I know. Cree doesn’t know what happiness is but she sure made me happy.” She leaned in conspiratorially toward Seth. “It’s high time I paid her back for making me that way, don’t you think?”

As they sauntered past the pasture to the kitchen door, the mule lifted his head and bellowed. Ellen jumped and clutched her heart. “Damn mule scared the bejesus outta me. Does it every time. Good for nothing bag of bones!” She cursed. “Alone and bitter.”

Her lips set in a grim line, she shook her head at the bristling mule. “No sirree, my Cree ain’t gonna end up locked in an old cottage while the farmhouse fills up with a bunch of peahens. Not while I’m still breathin’. We’ve hired ourselves an archangel to take care of that. If he can’t melt an ole’ mule’s heart, Sethie, no one can.”