Forty-Six

With Roc and Stick immersed in the search for the perfect bass drum sound, Emma picked up the phone. “Swirling Sound. No, Eddie’s not in, can I take a message for you?” Wondering if Eddie had a new southern girlfriend, she left the control room to find a pen but was stopped cold when the caller identified herself. Emma realized that this must be the mysterious muse for so many of her dad’s recent songs. Bobbie, for her part, was equally taken aback to discover the identity of the young woman with the distinctive New England delivery. This must be the daughter Roc never knew.

“Bobbie, I can’t talk right now. Can we meet up later, somewhere private? I’m new to California; are you on the west side? How about your favourite beach? Okay. I’m coming from the Valley, so give me a couple of hours to get organized and get directions, say five?”

Emma returned to the control room, and Stick looked up from the console. “Another of my dad’s platinum clients?”

“No, just a tantalizing offer of a new long distance plan. She was nice, so we talked for a while.” Emma shrugged.

Stick shot her a skeptical look and went back to work. Roc turned, smiling, and just stared at her for a moment as she came and sat between them. “How about if we take a break? It’s such a beautiful day. If we had one like this at home, they’d declare a statewide holiday.”

“Sure,” said Roc. “I’ve got the L.A. To Go menu book, and we can sit on my porch and feed the leftovers to the squirrels.”

Emma wasn’t certain he was being serious but realized that he was used to living in a very small world. “No, I mean, let’s go out. No one will recognize you with your beard and everything. We’ll get take out and have a picnic, I don’t know, something.” She knew this sounded naïve.

“I’d love to, but … I don’t have that option right now, sweetie. I’m sorry. I made my bed on this one, and believe me I’ve had lots of time to have second thoughts, but this is just how it is right now.”

Emma knew she only had one chance to make this happen and took her best shot. “Dad, I need you to be alive. Here and now. I’ve waited a long time to be with you.” She could see her father softening, but he was unconvinced. “Listen, Rich has been teaching me how to drive the bike; we’ll just go for a cruise. Is that cool, Richard?”

“Uh, sure. I’ve got to work on this track anyway. Hey man, if my dad shows up, I’ll tell him you’re snoozing or writing upstairs and want privacy.”

Emma could see her dad struggling, but knew she was tapping into his deeper desires. “You can leave your helmet on for total anonymity, if you like.” She smiled teasingly and took his hand.

“Yeah, okay. Let me take a nervous pee. Can you really drive that thing?”

The roar of the ocean was the perfect antidote to the cacophony of thoughts playing in Bobbie’s head as she walked down the stairs to El Matador beach. Mix in some bittersweet memories, and she had a lot to sort through. She’d left herself extra time to revisit her favourite place in California and was glad that with the late afternoon cooling off, she didn’t have to share it with many other people. A picnicking family was trudging past as she came down, and she recognized that post-beach daze on the kids’ faces as they hauled backpacks and sand toys up the stairs. Kicking off her sneakers and tying them together over her shoulder, Bobbie headed straight for the surf and that welcome wash of sound. A wave swirled around her feet. Roc’s daughter, Emma — she’ll know if he’s alive, won’t she? A seagull screamed just overhead. The Marie tale was chilling, but it too seemed far-fetched. The first time Bobbie had come here with Roc — that night — the first time they’d made love. Oh God, please let that happen again. Bobbie shivered, pulled a sweatshirt out of her bag and retreated from the water’s edge to walk over to one of the giant rocks that distinguished El Matador from all the other beaches on this coast. She climbed up the side and sat with her legs pulled up to her body, lifting her face to the ocean spray, feeling the cool breeze cut beneath the skin, rocking gently.

As she wove through the traffic on Ventura Boulevard, Emma’s steely confidence unnerved Roc, but he’d given himself up to the moment, and his daily obsessions with songwriting, loneliness, and defying Uncle floated away into the Valley haze. She sped confidently through Sherman Oaks, Encino, and Woodland Hills and paused only once to navigate the transition from Ventura Boulevard to Calabasas Road. He offered to switch places, even though it had been awhile since he’d driven a motorcycle. But you don’t forget, do you? Or is that bicycles? Emma seemed to have a destination in mind, although she was being mysterious about it, and Roc smiled when she took the Las Virgenes turn-off and began the descent to the Pacific down the dramatic Malibu Canyon Road. The vibration of the bike and the shimmer of the ocean had a meditative effect on Roc as they rolled along the PCH in the late afternoon sun. It took him a moment once the bike stopped in the tiny parking area to realize that she’d chosen his favourite beach.

“This is it, right?” Emma smiled. “El Matador, the one in your song ‘Underwater Smile’? ‘All the sunburned saints of El Matador,’ right?”

He pried off the helmet, thinking that Ed’s kid had a very small head. “Yeah, this is it. Wait till you see it.” Roc inhaled the salt air deeply. They walked to a path leading to a long wooden staircase and started down. Partway down it opened to an unforgettable vista, and Emma stopped to drink it in.

“Those rocks near the shore look like the spine of a dinosaur poking through the surface.” She knew she sounded like a ten-year-old. “I can see why this place is so inspiring. I don’t think I care if I ever see Boston Common again.”

Roc took her hand at the steepest part of the path, and maybe for a minute she was a ten-year-old to him. As they came closer to the ocean, Emma paused once more and felt the butterflies again. “If I’ve done something stupid today, Dad, please forgive me. I love you.”

Roc looked at her with tenderness. “Forgive you? I’m so grateful to you for giving me a reason to be alive and not buried in that museum to myself at Eddie’s. And except for that one tricky turn in Malibu Canyon, you really can drive a motorbike.” He smiled at his daughter. “I love you too, Emma.”

He looked toward the shore and beyond to the skyline, then the familiar rock formation at the foot of the stairs. The figure clutching itself on the top of the rock looked familiar too, even though he could just make out the silhouette in the slanting afternoon light. Must be cold up there, he thought. She seemed to read his mind, as he stepped off the last stair onto the beach, and turned to look back at them. She kept looking, and Roc was pulled toward her like the tide that rolled back from the base of the rock. Emma held back, waiting at the edge of the beach as Roc approached the woman on the rock. He held out his hand and helped her down, and they melted into one figure, unmoving as the water rolled over their feet, in and out. Emma sat down and breathed in the Pacific Ocean for the first time, watching the gulls circling overhead. She squinted, not sure of what she was seeing and then realized it was the dolphins, diving and playing just off the shore.