JERROD PREFERRED TO wait for Dawn to arrive, but Ian Shepherd showed up right on time at 10:00 a.m. Nothing laid-back about the photographer.
Jerrod stood silent as he observed Ian examining the exterior of the two boats as they moved gently at the dock. He took a few shots that seemed random to Jerrod, but based on what he’d seen of Ian’s work on his website, he trusted the photographer had a sharp eye—and a plan. It was a good day for a photo shoot, starting with the calm waters. The scattered clouds in an otherwise blue sky provided a background more dramatic than a clear day.
Ian wore an expression that went way beyond curious. Jerrod knew that look. He’d seen it plenty of times before when the sight of his dive boats sparked someone’s imagination. He’d bet Ian was hungry to experience at least a day trip, maybe some diving. No problem. The trial runs would begin soon.
“From what Dawn told me,” Ian said, “we’ll get some shots today with the boats at the dock. Later, we’ll take more when you’re underway on the water. But she needs some visuals now to send to newspapers and feature writers.”
Ian fixed his gaze on the Lucy Bee. Nodding toward her, he said, “I need a feel for what you’re selling. A sense of what the business is all about.”
Jerrod shrugged. “That’s easy. I sell adventure. And while that tour boat looks tame to me, and maybe to you, everyone defines that a little differently.” That was his philosophy, anyway. For some, adventure was nothing more than a new experience—a short, safe jaunt on a tour boat. For others, his small company offered a chance to explore the mysteries of diving. “Divers are our most satisfied customers. Some people take to scuba like fish to water, and that’s not even a pun.”
“I’ve always known there’s shipwreck diving going on up here,” Ian said pensively, “but I personally don’t know anyone who’s done it. It’s almost like a well-kept secret.”
“Maybe I can change that,” Jerrod said. “As long as people are willing to suit up for cold water, there’s no reason not to enjoy it.” Jerrod was aware of several companies, but they offered less than he did. Fewer diving days and not as much structured training.
Jerrod stared at the dock and kicked away stray clusters of gravel with the toe of his shoe. He was conscious of Ian waiting, not jumping in with a comment just to fill the silence. “My late wife liked to arrange dinner reservations as part of a two-or four-person package. She liked the idea of enhancing visitors’ vacations—she’d even make some calls to get a golf outing add-on and make it a two-day deal. Over the years, quite a few couples or groups took her up on it.” He stared at the ground again. “She was one of a kind, my wife.”
Why had he said all that? He looked up into Ian’s questioning eyes. He’d wandered right up to the door of the danger zone, but he wouldn’t let himself cross the threshold. He changed his tone when he continued. “Sorry, didn’t mean to take that detour. Now that I’m up here for the season, we might try the same kind of packaging ideas. We won’t invest a lot of time on it for our first season, but we’ll see if some extra customer service works.”
Ian pointed to the Lucy Bee. “But I expect your day trips will be the bread and butter, huh?”
“I think so, especially for this first summer.” He spoke with determination, but he was desperate not to get lost in nostalgia, reliving the best years of his life. He thought he was mostly over those jaunts into the past. He hadn’t expected that filling in the history of his business would stir up so much emotion.
Refocusing on providing Ian with facts, Jerrod cleared his throat and pointed to the open water.
“Hold it right there, skipper,” Ian said with a laugh. “I want to catch you in the act of gesturing toward the water—it communicates partly what you feel about the lake itself.”
For some reason, Ian’s words didn’t lift Jerrod’s spirits much, but it wasn’t the photographer’s fault. Faking it, Jerrod grinned. “Follow me.”
“At last,” Ian said, following Jerrod aboard the Lucy Bee.
“This is a classic passenger ferry, redone, refitted, repurposed,” Jerrod quipped. “Since Dawn tells me anything considered classic sells, we’ll use those exact words in the brochure.”
“Hmm…she’s right. ‘Repurposed’ is big these days, too.” Ian stepped down to the passenger well and aimed his camera at the wooden benches and the planked deck.
“What made you choose our neck of the woods?” Ian asked, as he kept at it, aiming his camera, angling it over the stern, up the companionway to the wheelhouse. He climbed on a side bench and from that perch, shot the bow of the dive boat, Wind Spray.
Good question. It wasn’t just the story of the ships, with colorful names like Fountain City or Empire Lake. Nor was it the venerable shipbuilders, whose stories fascinated him and he found himself retelling to Wyatt and Rob. “This is a beautiful stretch of coast on both sides of the lake, right down to Chicago and up to Mackinac Island. People are drawn here. I was drawn here.”
Jerrod struggled to quiet the new bittersweet feelings his surroundings triggered. Augusta had grown up in Milwaukee, but he wasn’t so foolish to think he’d keep her alive for Carrie in some mystical way by coming all the way to the thumb of Wisconsin. He was clear about that.
“I don’t know if this will make sense to you, but I like places that don’t take themselves too seriously. There was nothing pretentious about the Lake Erie shore where I grew up, or the Milwaukee lakeshore where my wife spent her childhood and I did some commercial diving. And it’s the same here.”
Ian laughed as if Jerrod had made a really funny joke. He waved at the plain wooden marina and boatyard building. “No curlicue silver lettering on that sign—or even a fresh coat of paint.”
Amused, Jerrod could see the two-story building and what looked like its makeshift additions. It was neither cute and quaint nor upscale and elegant. It desperately needed a makeover. “Watch it, Ian. My office is in one of those square sections stuck on the back.”
“If lack of pretention attracted you,” Ian said, still chuckling, “you won’t be disappointed. But Two Moon Bay has many strong points. Nelson’s building may not be fancy, but all summer long, sailboats and motor yachts stay at his docks and visitors and locals wander around town and always end up down here.”
Jerrod agreed with Ian’s take about the feel of this small town. It didn’t surprise him the waterfront attracted lots of marine and foot traffic. It spoke of safety, too. After the horror of what had happened, Jerrod sought as much safety for Carrie as possible. He also craved a lack of drama, even in the landscape. Two Moon Bay provided the comfort and a degree of anonymity he wanted. That’s why he hadn’t told Dawn about what happened to his wife, just that he’d lost her. He hadn’t even mentioned Dabny.
“I wonder what’s keeping Dawn,” Ian said, lowering his camera. “I usually arrive early to appointments she arranges. Most of the time, she’s already there.”
“I haven’t heard anything from her,” Jerrod said. In the back of his mind, he’d also been wondering where she was. “I just started working with her, but she sure seems reliable. Always does exactly what she says she’s going to do.” He pointed to Ian. “She said she’d arrange today’s photo shoot, and here you are.”
“Why don’t we keep going, as long as I’m here? Dawn and the writer she works with, Lark McGee, will do the copy later, anyway.”
Jerrod was reluctant, but then they’d already started, more or less. Before leaving the Lucy Bee, he pointed out all the basics, from the safety to the snack bar. He described the video and slideshow that went with his tour scripts, including the graphics of old newspaper headlines and accounts that always appealed to audiences in Florida and the Virgin Islands. Just because they weren’t diving didn’t mean they weren’t interested in hearing folklore about storms and sunken treasure.
“I guess you’d say I’m an amateur cultural historian of the unpretentious Great Lakes.”
“I’ve got terrific shots of you as you’re talking.” Ian patted the camera. “Your passion comes through, exactly as Dawn described. And the camera doesn’t ignore it nor lie about what it picks up.”
At another mention of Dawn, Jerrod finally admitted he was annoyed. Until he got information to contradict it, it appeared Dawn had stood him up. In fact, the longer he thought about it, Dawn’s absence went from annoying to really maddening. She’d let him down in a major way. But he kept his professional demeanor long enough to give Ian some space to shoot photos of Wind Spray, a white fiberglass boat gleaming in the sun. Every piece of equipment and even the way it was arranged communicated care and safety. He was proud of that.
“We don’t settle for anything less than the best equipment kept in top shape.” He patted the tank racks and pointed to the storage bins. “We provide everything, although some people bring their own gear. Masks, gloves, hats, dive boots, and wet and dry suits suitable for the climate.”
Ian’s quick camera work kept Jerrod animated. “I like working with new divers, and kids, too. Teenagers can dive safely, as long as they’re taught well. Besides, they aren’t jaded. They think spotting old bottles on the bottom is cool.”
Ian began talking about his own desire to dive and Jerrod tried to listen, but he couldn’t stop himself from staring off the stern of the boat and craning his neck to look for Dawn’s blue car.
Jerrod led the way off the boat and onto the dock.
“I’ll be in touch,” Ian said tentatively. “I’m sure Dawn has a good explanation for not showing up.”
Jerrod nodded, but wasn’t so confident. Ian stayed put, as if waiting for something. Jerrod jumped when his phone signaled a new text. “Maybe this is something from her.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket and glanced at the screen. “Sure enough, here it is, Ian. She says she was in a car accident, rear-ended. She’s at the emergency room. Her car was towed away. But she’s okay. If that’s the case, then why…” He stopped talking when Ian’s phone pinged.
Ian read his text and nodded. “It’s Dawn. She’s at Northeast Memorial Hospital. Not far from here. A mile or so down the road.”
“That car of hers, it’s so small,” Jerrod said, giving voice to his visions of a bashed-in trunk and back seat. Irrationally, he was angry that she didn’t drive a sturdier minivan or even a truck.
“It’s a standard compact car,” Ian said, frowning at him. “It’s not especially small.”
Jerrod caught Ian’s puzzled expression, but was too distracted by his heart beating wildly in his chest to say anything. Calm down. She said she’s fine. “Uh, she’s going to need a ride home, assuming she’ll be released.”
Ian waved him off. “No problem, man, I can go. I know where the hospital is.”
No, that wasn’t right. He should go. He should make sure she was okay. She’d been hurt on her way to see him. Swallowing hard, he forced himself to sound casual when he said, “No, I insist. I’ll go. I’ll get directions on my phone.”
Ian stared at him as if searching for something in his face. “Are you sure? It’s no trouble. Besides, she might have called someone by now. Probably Lark. You might want to check with her before taking off.”
Maybe so, but she’d only probably protest that she was fine. It wouldn’t do any harm to show up there. “I’ll check it out. My little girl is at school and her nanny is picking her up later.” Swatting the air dismissively, he said, “You go on, Ian. I’ve got this.”
Jerrod started down the dock to his van, with Ian following right behind. Of course, Jerrod knew he should call Dawn. But he chose to ignore logic. It made no sense, but the closing fist in his gut told him he had to see for himself that she was okay.
* * *
THE NURSE HANDED Dawn the envelope with the six pain pills. “Take as needed. You can talk to your doctor if you need more.”
“Thanks, Adele, but I’ll be fine,” she said. Why had she been so quick to say that? Her wrist was badly sprained and secured in a removable splint. An immobilizer, Adele called it. She’d twisted her knee and banged her head in her rapid escape from her mangled car. But no, she told Adele, a nurse who, as it happened, used to work for Gordon’s pediatrician, she was fine. What a joke.
“Don’t be a martyr, Dawn. You’ve had one pill, and you can have another in six hours. I recommend taking it to stop a pain cycle in its tracks.” The nurse tapped the straps holding the splint in place around her hand and wrist. “In a day or two you’ll still be sore, but probably not in unbearable pain.”
“But if I took the med, I can’t drive today. Is that true?”
“Well, you don’t have a car. Remember?” Adele picked up Dawn’s good hand and held it between both of hers. “I know you, so I can imagine your mind is jumping ahead to whatever was in that appointment book you lug around in your attaché. It makes me think of the carry-on bag I take on flights.”
Dawn laughed in spite of herself. “I get it. I’ll slow down. Tomorrow is soon enough to get a loaner or a rental.” She gently walked her fingers over the lump on her head starting at her hairline and ending at the outer edge of her eyebrow. Even without seeing it she knew it was turning into a spreading purple bruise she’d walk around with for a couple weeks.
“Fortunately, I only missed one actual appointment today. I planned the afternoon for phone calls and writing press releases.”
“All that can wait.” Adele waved the paper she held in her hand. “I have your aftercare instructions right here. Point number three,” she said, poking at a number on the page, “is rest.”
Dawn managed a grin and nodded to her phone on the chair. “Now it’s time to call a cab.” Knowing she’d come through the three-car accident without being badly hurt, her thoughts turned to the others involved. “By the way, Dr. Adams said no one was seriously injured. Is that true?”
“Yes—even the guy who plowed into the car behind you is okay. Apparently, his brakes failed and that’s why he couldn’t stop.”
Dawn winced against the memory of the shock when the car behind her inexplicably hit the back of her car at the stop sign. She tried to get away by flooring the accelerator, but the car came faster than she could move forward. The sharp turn she made to avoid—unsuccessfully, as it turned out—hitting another car caused her to careen into a mailbox. Ironically, she’d sprained her wrist, twisted her knee and banged her head during her effort to escape from the car as quickly as possible. Fear of an explosion had pushed her to act so quickly. Fortunately, the fiery demise of her car never came, although it was badly damaged. Still, as upset as she’d been, in her heart she was aware how close she’d come to a real catastrophe.
“They can call a taxi for you at the desk,” Adele said, taking hold of her elbow so she could help her off the exam table. Dawn moved gingerly to avoid landing too hard and fast on her wrapped knee, the least of her injuries. A little light-headed, Dawn was grateful for Adele’s firm grasp as she draped her coat around her shoulders. The curtain suddenly pulled back, startling her. She rocked to one side, but was righted again by Adele’s firm hold on her. Dawn recognized the woman as the front desk clerk she’d spoken to when the police had brought her in.
“Uh, there’s a man at the desk asking about Ms. Larsen. He’s not family, but he said he was here to see how she was. He can drive her home.”
“Ah, Ian,” Dawn said. “I had an appointment with him and a new client. I texted him to let him know what happened.” She looked at the desk clerk. “Tall guy, unruly blond hair?”
“Tall, but dark-haired. He said his name was Waters…no, Walters.”
“Jerrod?” She let her aching head drop back. “Oh, no.”
“What?” Adele studied her face as if looking for clues. “Who is Jerrod? And why is it a bad thing he’s here?”
“He’s my new client. I texted him to let him know why I didn’t show up this morning for a photo shoot.” She looked down at herself and moaned. She had a rip in the knee of her best jeans. The sleeve of her coat had an ugly tear, as well. All that to go with her bruised face. “I didn’t want anyone seeing me like this, but especially a client. Here I am, not only disheveled, but wobbly, too.”
“So you’ll let him grip your elbow and keep you on your feet.” Adele spoke in a firm tone. “Get real, Dawn. You’ve been hurt and someone stepped up to offer his help. Accept it.”
What choice did she have? Besides, Jerrod was only being kind. She’d already seen his kindness—and loyalty—on display interacting with Wyatt and Rob, and his little girl.
“Please, tell him I’ll be right out.” When the clerk disappeared, she turned to Adele. “Thanks for bringing me back to reality. I had the idea I’d walk out of here and restart my day like nothing happened.”
“I know the type,” Adele said with a laugh. “Takes one to know one. Now, hang on to my arm so I can walk you to the waiting room and deliver you into capable hands.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
With Adele setting the slow shuffling pace, it took a couple of minutes to reach the exit doors leading to the intake area. She spotted Jerrod immediately.
“There he is,” Dawn said, raising her wrapped hand to indicate Jerrod. He turned when they were a few feet behind him.
“You’re walking.” The muscles in Jerrod’s face visibly relaxed. “That’s a good sign.”
“I came in sitting in a wheelchair, but I’m determined to leave on my own two feet.”
She caught Jerrod’s quick glance at Adele. Was that a not-so-subtle eye roll?
“She’s supposed to rest,” Adele said to Jerrod.
“I see.” Jerrod looked at Adele in the serious way Dawn already had come to recognize. “I think I can handle it from here.”
“Quit talking about me like I’m not here,” Dawn said.
Looking amused and a little smug, Adele said goodbye and disappeared through the doors to the treatment cubicles. Dawn sat in the nearest chair while Jerrod left to move his van to the entrance. Then, after shuffling to the van, she had no choice but to accept help to lift her hip and slide onto the seat. That brought her a little too close to Jerrod for comfort. For a few seconds she could feel his warm breath on her cheek and neck. It would have been so easy to drop her head against his chest and just rest there. Even in her hazy mind, she was aware that what seemed such a pleasant fantasy was a really terrible idea.
On the drive home, Jerrod filled her in on his meeting with Ian. Satisfied that it had gone well, she perked up a little. So, the day wasn’t a total loss. When they pulled into her driveway, she invited Jerrod inside because it seemed like the polite thing to do, and then was surprised when he accepted. She’d imagined him eager to get on with his day. Once in the house, he shed his jacket and tossed it in a chair. Then he steered her to the couch and offered to make tea.
“That sounds good.” She sighed as she surrendered to the puffy cushions that enveloped her. “I’ll even share the bag of sugar cookies I picked up at the bakery. They’re in the cabinet with the tea.” Her living room and dining room-kitchen were open, so she could see into the kitchen and watch Jerrod fill the kettle and find the mugs. What a relief her house was pretty neat. On another day, it could have been a whole different story.
With thoughts of moving to the table, she tried to scoot to the edge of the couch seat.
“You stay where you are,” he said. “I can handle this.”
Losing steam by the second, Dawn offered no protest. She kicked off her sneakers and lifted her injured leg up to rest on the coffee table and thought about all the lost time in her day. The hours had passed quickly and now it wouldn’t be long before Gordon’s bus pulled up to the curb. Since he couldn’t come pick her up or do anything else to help her, she hadn’t sent her son a text. No sense interrupting the normal course of his day.
Jerrod brought the tea and cookies in two trips and then settled in the chair closest to the couch. Dawn picked up the hot mug and blew across the top of the strong black tea. “I didn’t know how much I needed this until now.”
“I know what you mean,” Jerrod said, his voice low. He opened his mouth as if to speak, closed it.
She flashed back to his serious demeanor as he walked her to her car. Was that only yesterday? She kept quiet, but she was pretty sure she knew what was on his mind. “We were due to talk after the photo shoot. I was going to suggest coffee at the Bean Grinder.” She lifted her injured arm. “Best-laid plans and all that.”
Seeing his expression darken, she held back the probing question on the tip of her tongue. “Okay, I’m listening.”
With nothing else to say, she reached for a cookie, surprised by the beads of sweat forming at the back of her neck. She wrote it off to the hot tea, the pain pill, even the stress of the accident, but it was hard to ignore the tension in the air.
“To put it bluntly, I’ve only told you part of my story,” Jerrod began.
Putting the mug on the coffee table, he said, “I told you I lost my wife, which is true. But what I left out was that I also lost my older daughter. At the same time. In the same way.”
She drew in a breath. “I’m so sorry.” Hearing him say the words out loud, especially after reading about his tragedy on the internet, she understood why his expressions and moods shifted moment to moment, almost like a sudden change of wind direction. With Gordon’s face immediately flashing through her mind, Dawn could barely bring herself to imagine such a loss.
“It was my fault, you see.”
She swallowed back her impulse to break in, spare him from going into self-blame mode. But what did she know about him, anyway? Not much. What if it was true, that it was his fault?
A grimace distorted his features, and as if reading her mind he said, “Thanks for not immediately jumping in to negate what I just said.”
“Is that what most people do when you blame yourself for what happened?”
He lowered his head in a solemn nod. “Exactly. But denying it would make it even harder to describe what killed my wife and daughter.”
Sensing he needed to tell her in his own words, she made a quick decision to keep up the ruse that she knew none of this. “Can you start at the beginning?” Her mind on alert, she sat up a little straighter.
“I can, but the short version is easier, and then I can backtrack. Augusta, my wife, and Dabny, our daughter, were killed in a terrorist attack overseas. In Bali. Carrie and I, along with Wyatt and Rob, weren’t with them, and nothing happened to us.”
Dawn rubbed her fingers across her breastbone as if she was soothing the ache that had settled there.
“The day it happened, Carrie pleaded to go with me on what she assumed were wonderful adventures off the boat. Augusta and I relented and let her come along. This was a few weeks before her third birthday and for her, most everything was fun. Earlier, she’d wanted to go off with Rob and Wyatt, who were exploring some of the local tourist attractions.”
Jerrod stared off into space again, his gray eyes filled with pain. He shook his head. “It’s hard to explain, but I can’t think about the day without including all the good things going on. In fact, every one of us was having a great day. When Carrie and I left the boat, Augusta and Dabny were doing her social studies lesson. Like a magician, Augusta had made homeschooling exciting for Dabny.”
“Were you diving, I assume?” Dawn tried not to focus on him too intently. She wanted to temper her own electric response to hearing him reveal such personal information. When she’d read the articles on the internet about this attack, it had seemed unreal. But hearing him say the word terrorism, her mind took flight and formed horrible images of explosions and fire. The chaos inherent in disasters, natural or otherwise. Her heart picked up speed. She couldn’t entirely bring herself back to the safety of her living room. Even the peaceful atmosphere of the town she called home suddenly seemed fragile.
Jerrod nodded again. “We were location scouting. Augusta and I were preparing to branch out. We chartered a boat in Bali so we could get some experience in the area and plan new excursions. We checked out marinas and met with officials at the tourism bureau. Typical information gathering.”
“Were you planning to relocate the whole business?”
“No, no, nothing that drastic.” A wistful smile crossed his face. “After we had the girls, Augusta and I thought in terms of two or three year chunks of time. We used those chunks to guide our plans.”
Over the next few minutes, the facts Dawn already had gathered about Augusta’s and Dabny’s deaths receded as pictures of their lives emerged. Dawn listened to Jerrod describe the off-beat, adventurous way he and Augusta and their kids had lived.
“Of course, we knew we’d settle down one day,” Jerrod said, rubbing his hand up and down his cheek as he spoke, “but while the girls were young, we tried to pack in as much novelty as we could.”
Jerrod stopped talking and turned his attention to draining the mug. Dawn took advantage of his silence and said, “I don’t want to make assumptions, so I need to ask why you blame yourself.”
His expression unchanged, Jerrod said, “Extremist groups had been tracked to other parts of Indonesia, but Bali was considered relatively safe—at that time.” He shook his head, regret dominating his face. “But I can’t claim we were kept in the dark about potential dangers. Threats existed everywhere and we always weighed them. Most of our clientele would have come from Australia and New Zealand.” His shoulders stiffened when he stopped talking. “It’s hard to believe now, but we were assured these tourist divers accepted a certain level of risk, just like we Americans do when we travel. It all seemed so doable.”
He still hadn’t answered the question, Dawn thought, deciding to let him work his way to his full answer.
“A dozen people were killed that day by a bomb planted under the dock and detonated in the middle of a typically busy day. Many more were wounded. A lot of tourists. And I wasn’t there. Looking back, I blame myself for being cavalier—much too willing to brush off risk.” He glanced up and met her gaze. “Before that day, when I was challenged about the life Augusta and I chose, I argued that life is filled with hazards, and we can’t protect ourselves or even our families from every bad thing.”
She stretched her arm toward him. “You weren’t wrong about that.” Wasn’t that obvious?
Cocking his head, he said, “Let’s just say I pushed the logical limit. Yes, diving itself poses risks, but I was always a super-safety kind of guy. Even Rob and Wyatt used to tease me about it. They don’t tease anymore.” He jabbed his index finger into his chest. “But, the fact is, I tempted fate. I put my family at risk and my wife and daughter paid the price.”
That statement took on an air of finality. Dawn sensed he’d disclosed all he cared to. For the time being, anyway.
“I’m glad you told me about…your situation.” That was the only word that came to mind. “I know that word is inadequate.”
The faint smile Jerrod gave her relieved some of the tension in the air.
“I’ll fill you in another time about what’s gone on the last couple of years.” His voice returned to his typical businesslike tone. “But establishing myself up here is part of my company’s comeback.”
A comeback for the business, or for him? Maybe both. “New location, new website, new home. You have a full plate.” She wanted to acknowledge Carrie, and how happy she seemed, but was afraid of going to places she didn’t belong. She was saved from making a decision when the school bus pulled up in front of the house.
“That’ll be Gordon,” she said.
“Sorry, I should go.” Jerrod stood and retrieved his jacket off the chair.
Dawn raised her hand to stop him. “You don’t need to rush off. In fact, I’m glad you’re here to meet him. I’ve told him about your business. Naturally, he thinks it’s very cool—or rather, you’re cool in his eyes.”
The wider smile in response wasn’t lost on Dawn. He also watched the front door, as if eager for Gordon to come in. But why? Especially now, knowing more about his past, the new client in her lineup was in some ways even more of an enigma.
Gordon registered his surprise when he pushed the front door open. First, he rarely saw her sitting on the couch on a weekday, or more to the point, a work day. His eyes opened wide when he got a better look at her. And saw Jerrod standing by the chair.
“I was in an accident,” she said, “but I’m not badly hurt. Just bumps and bruises.”
“Is your wrist broken?” Gordon asked, nodding at her hand.
She dismissed that concern with a flick of her good wrist. “No, no, just a sprain. I wanted you to meet Jerrod, the new client I was telling you about.”
“And I’ve heard a lot about you, Gordon.” Jerrod approached and held out his hand.
Dawn almost laughed out loud to see how eagerly Gordon shook Jerrod’s hand. And not in a little boy way. Her son looked like a grown-up making a connection with another person…another man.
“I was able to make sure your mom got home okay,” Jerrod said.
“Uh, that’s good. Thanks.” He paused. “What happened to the car?”
“Bad body damage. It was towed over to Vandenburg’s garage. I’ll get the estimate tomorrow. Or, they’ll tell me it’s totaled.” A moment of silence passed. “Why don’t you sit with us a minute?” she suggested. Gordon didn’t need to be coaxed or asked twice, but immediately sat in the chair across from her.
Without a hint of shyness, Gordon said, “I’ve been asking Mom about your business. As soon as school is out, I’m going up north to be with my dad at my grandparents’ cottage on Redwing Lake. I’ll be learning scuba up there.”
“By the way, Jerrod, ‘up north’ is a generic term for anyplace north of here,” Dawn said, a laugh in her voice. “Could be sixty miles where Redwing is or a long trek of a couple of hundred miles to the Lake Superior shore. Bill’s family has had a cottage up on Redwing Lake since the 1920s.”
“My dad can go back and forth to work, or just come up on the weekends,” Gordon explained.
How different her son’s family life was from Jerrod’s daughters before the tragedy altered everything, Dawn thought. They didn’t have a typical lifestyle, but what did that matter? They were a real family. Two parents who loved each other and their kids all lived together in the same place. Would she ever get used to the idea that her son had to leave one house and go to another to see his own father? Yeah, yeah, it was common and all that, but she’d never become accustomed to it. Never.
“If it’s okay with your mom, I’d be happy to take you diving when you get back,” Jerrod said.
“Sure it’s okay,” she said, getting to her feet to get an ice pack from the freezer for her head, but mostly just to move around and energize her body. She weaved forward, though, and Jerrod and Gordon both got to their feet, their arms outstretched to catch her. Before they got to her, though, she flopped back down. Suddenly, her knee was a ball of fire. Her head didn’t feel so good, either. “I better stay off my feet. I’m feeling kinda woozy.”
“What do you need?” Jerrod asked, glancing at Gordon. “We can get it for you.”
“Just an ice pack from the freezer. Adele told me to put ice on my temple to keep the bruising down. She said to do it right away, but I forgot. I can put one of those packs on my knee, too.”
“I’ll get them.” Gordon dashed to the kitchen.
“I should have known you’d need to ice that bump,” Jerrod said. “I’m sorry I didn’t think of it.”
“Oh, please, it’s not your job to look after me. Besides, you have your hands full with Carrie—and your crew. Right down to the housing.”
Jerrod started to respond, but Gordon came back and handed her the packs.
“I’ve been down to Key West,” Gordon said. “We went snorkeling with my friend Evan and his mom, Lark.”
“Dawn mentioned that,” Jerrod said. “So you liked it, huh? Snorkeling?”
“Oh, yeah.” He hesitated before adding, “I’m thinking maybe I want to be a marine biologist…you know, it’s something I’m considering.”
“Now that’s a great ambition.” An expression of pleasant surprise spread across Jerrod’s face and stayed there. “There’s so much left to learn about this planet’s oceans, and even the lakes and rivers.”
“Our trip was four years ago when the boys were nine,” Dawn said. “At the conference, Kym and I compared notes and it turns out that she and her husband had just left. It seems we missed crossing paths by a matter of weeks.”
“I think we’d gone to St. Thomas in March and April that year to check in on our charters there. We only ran two boats then, but it was a busy season.”
Gordon’s eyes lit up. “Do you still have those boats?”
“Not that he’s eager or anything.” Dawn deliberately kept her tone dry. She could almost see the wheels turning in Gordon’s head thinking about diving in the Virgin Islands.
“My company technically owns them,” he said, going on to explain that he leased the boats to some former crew, with the idea they could keep the company operating out of both St. Croix and St. Thomas.
As she listened to more of Gordon’s questions and Jerrod’s answers, she was impressed by the respectful way her new client treated her son’s interest. He responded to his curiosity with the same seriousness that Gordon displayed. She relaxed deeper into the couch, the muscles in her body loosening.
“Are you hungry?” Jerrod asked, breaking the silence.
She shook her head. “No doubt my growing kid is, but he can—”
“I have an idea,” Jerrod blurted. “You two need to eat, and Carrie and I do, too. Why don’t I fix us all something?” He glanced at Dawn. “If you don’t mind me using your kitchen.”
Seeing Gordon’s face light up, she laughed and said, “No, I don’t mind. Gordon can help. He knows his way around the pots and pans. Melody is welcome, too.”
Getting up to retrieve his phone from his jacket, Jerrod said, “I’ll text her now. Believe me, Melody will be happy to have a night off. We more or less split the cooking…well, that’s an exaggeration. We’re doing mostly takeout now that we’re all in hotel rooms. But I like to be there with Carrie, mostly to make her life as routine as possible.”
His fingers moved rapidly as he texted. “How about tacos?” He glanced to Gordon, who nodded enthusiastically.
“Do I have a say?” Dawn asked.
Gordon chuckled, but Jerrod’s neck turned red. So, it was possible to embarrass this serious man.
“Just teasing. Tacos happen to be one of my favorites. Gordon and I feast on them a lot,” she said, although her mind was focused elsewhere. It seemed Melody was only the nanny, after all, Dawn thought. Lark had been right about her jumping to conclusions.
“She makes me stir the ground beef on the stove and chop up stuff, so I know what I’m doing.” Gordon spoke as if bragging about a big accomplishment.
Dawn saw Jerrod sucking in his cheeks in his attempt not to grin—or maybe laugh. Then he was on his feet and getting into his jacket. “Let’s get this dinner underway,” he said, hastily adding, “if you’re sure you’re up to having us.”
Dawn rested her head on the back of the couch. “As long as I’m not expected to help in the kitchen, I’m good.”
“You stay right where you are. We’ll handle the rest.” He nodded to Gordon and then disappeared out the door.
Gordon picked up his backpack and headed to his room, but not before calling over his shoulder, “He’s cool.”
What just happened? Whatever it was, Gordon was right. Her new client was definitely cool.
* * *
DAWN SAT AT the table with her arm companionably resting on the back of Carrie’s chair. Jerrod watched his little girl’s shy side show itself since they’d come into the house, although Dawn welcomed her like she was the special guest she’d been waiting for. Dawn even took care to explain that her temple, swollen and still bruised close to her eye, didn’t hurt too much.
Carrie had rewarded Gordon with a bright smile when he admired the big polar bear stuffed animal she’d carried in by its ear. Lately, that bear she’d named Candy was her new security blanket. The only place she didn’t bring it with her was to preschool.
Earlier, in the grocery store with Carrie, he’d had a few shaky moments while he let her help him pile food into the cart. Hard and soft shells, refried beans, guacamole and seasoning plus all the fresh ingredients needed for a perfect taco. He added soft drinks and ice cream, just because. Carrie was happy having a new adventure, but he had to honestly ask himself what he thought he was doing. A dinner between friends? Helping Dawn out after a bad day? Getting to know this newest member of his team? Maybe all of that was true, but was that as far as it went? It had to be.
He and Gordon put the platters of the vegetables and beans on the table. “Time to put it all together,” he said to Carrie as he assembled a taco for her and cut it into pieces.
“Looks like I have to cut up a taco for my mom.” Gordon directed his comment to Carrie.
Finding that notion very amusing, Carrie took special interest in Dawn’s plate of food being turned into manageable bites. With her right hand unencumbered, Jerrod knew perfectly well that Dawn could have used her fork to break up the shell. But they’d have missed a moment of playfulness with Carrie.
Jerrod shook off the hint of sadness and turned his attention to the food. He hadn’t realized how hungry he was until he inhaled the aroma of browning meat and taco spices. It had been so long since he’d experienced the sense of normalcy to be found in simply sharing a meal around a table with new friends. But danger loomed like an invisible line just beyond him. A couple of steps more and he’d be in trouble. Dawn’s pretty face and open heart. Gordon’s poise for his early teenage years. It was all just a little too much.
“Did your daddy die?” Carrie asked out of the blue. She was looking at Gordon.
An uncomfortable silence followed.
“No, Carrie, he didn’t die,” Gordon said after a second or two had passed. “He lives in Bellwood, not too far away.”
“Oh, okay,” Carrie said, apparently satisfied with the answer. “My mommy died. But I don’t remember her much. I don’t remember my big sister, either.”
Jerrod put his fork on the plate and stared down. It wasn’t the first time Carrie had said that, but it never stopped feeling like a hot poker searing his heart. “But we look at pictures sometimes, don’t we? Of Mommy and Dabny.” Jerrod swallowed hard.
“I bet your mom was very special. Dabny, too.” Dawn leaned closer to Carrie, almost as if protecting her.
“Uh-huh,” Carrie said. “Her name was Augusta. She was pretty.” Hunching her shoulders, she looked a little embarrassed when she added, “Like you.”
Reality hit hard. No one knew what to say, not even him. Yes, Augusta was pretty. And so was Dawn. Talk about confusing. It was only natural that Carrie would form an attachment to a woman like Dawn, and even to Gordon. They were on the edges of Carrie’s life. Far edges, but still.
“Thanks, sweetie,” Dawn said. “What a nice thing to say.”
Gordon left the table and walked to the freezer. “Does anyone else want ice cream…let’s see, we have vanilla, and the chocolate chip and peppermint stick you brought. What’ll it be?”
Trust a kid to save the day.
“I want chocolate chip and peppermint stick.” Carrie cut her eyes at Jerrod, as if waiting for him to object.
On another night he might have, but he said, “Okay, a little of each. And I’ll make decaf coffee.”
“My daddy drinks a lot of coffee,” Carrie said as if making an announcement.
Gordon put the bowl of ice cream in front of Carrie. “So does my mom. She and her friend Lark meet for coffee at the Bean Grinder and if Lark comes here they drink more coffee. And my dad is just as bad.”
“Enough,” Dawn said, laughing. “We get it.”
“I go to the Bean Grinder, too.” Carrie held a huge spoonful of peppermint stick ice cream over the dish bowl and claimed the floor while she had the chance. “Melody lets me get an oatmeal cookie. The cookies crunch when I chew ’em.”
Dawn patted Carrie’s shoulder. “Ooh, there’s nothing quite like a Bean Grinder oatmeal cookie. They’re my favorite, too.”
The warmth that defined the mood of the evening had settled in Jerrod’s heart. He’d been 100 percent unprepared for the range of emotions the day had brought on. These feelings were like strangers to him now, and he wasn’t sure he wanted them hanging around.
Glancing at Dawn, seeing through the pleasant expression on her beautiful face, he saw she was fading fast. It was a signal he could use to make his exit. He stood and began gathering empty plates. Gordon did the same and said he’d take care of the pile of dirty dishes on the counter.
“It’s time we said good night and let you get some rest,” Jerrod said.
Dawn didn’t argue. “I’ll be in touch as soon as I hear back from the newspaper and the tourist weekly I was telling you about.”
“Great. Meanwhile, focus on taking care of yourself.”
“Thanks for this evening,” Dawn said. “It lifted my spirits after such a crummy day.”
“We should be thanking you,” Jerrod said, leading Carrie through the living room to the front door. He didn’t add anything to what Dawn said. If he did, he’d reveal too much about what he missed about his old life. That wasn’t Dawn’s problem.