DAWN PULLED THE hood of her jacket up over her head and hurried from her car to the docks in the light rain. Seeing the lights on in Jerrod’s office, she changed her mind and ducked inside. She saw no sign of Jerrod, but Wyatt sat at the desk working on a laptop.
“Hi, Dawn,” Wyatt said, glancing away from the screen. “I didn’t expect to see you here today.”
“I’ve got some news for Jerrod,” Dawn said, pushing her hood back. “Since I was passing by I thought I’d tell him in person.”
“You just missed him,” Wyatt said, “but he’ll be back soon.”
The walls of the square room were lined with shelving and bins and a dozen or so folding chairs set up and a few others closed and propped up against the wall. The poster of the Franklin Stone added something. Maybe a little character and sense of permanence. Nothing was thrown together haphazardly.
“I’ve only seen this office when you first moved into it. But it looks like you’re in business now.” She glanced at the diving gear, from dry suits to buoyancy controllers and weight belts neatly arranged on labeled shelves. “It looks like someone around here is an expert organizer.”
Wyatt closed the computer and gestured to the empty chair. “That would be Jerrod. He insists on good order, as he calls it, especially now that Memorial Day is behind us and the tourist season is finally underway. He links our systems to his two primary goals. Naturally, safety tops the list, with success right behind it.”
“That could sound stuffy and formal,” Dawn said, slipping out of her coat. She sat on the chair next to the desk. “But somehow, it doesn’t strike me that way at all.”
From where she sat, Dawn could see the shelf of framed photographs behind Wyatt. She wasn’t able to see it clearly, but a photo of a woman and a little girl sat between some pictures of dive boats and crew, including Wyatt. “You have a photo gallery, huh? Is that new? I don’t recall seeing photos in here before.”
“Jerrod brought them over the weekend. We used to have a wall of photos in the Key West office…years ago, I mean,” Wyatt said, “Since we did our first tour on Lucy Bee last weekend, he wanted to start posting new pictures showing our guests having a good time. These framed photos reinforce the idea that the business has a long history.”
Wyatt frowned as she swiveled in the chair and grabbed two of the pictures. “This one was taken in Thailand when Carrie was still a baby.” She pointed to Jerrod standing in the well of the dive boat with Carrie in his arms. “This one is from St. Croix the next year.”
Speaking softly, Dawn said, “I know what happened in Bali. Jerrod told me about it.”
“Good,” Wyatt said. “When he came in with the photos I thought he might be taking a step to be more open about the past.”
“Is that Dabny?” Dawn asked, pointing to a girl sitting on Wyatt’s lap.
Wyatt’s features changed as a look of sadness crossed her face. Recovering quickly, she managed a weak smile. “Uh-huh. I used to call her Dabs. She was a great kid. Like Carrie is now.” Wyatt turned back to the shelf and picked up another photo. “Here’s one of Augusta and the girls not long before…well, before she and Dabny died.” She grunted in frustration. “I don’t know why I said that. Augusta and Dabny were killed. Murdered. They didn’t just die.” Wyatt passed the picture to Dawn.
She hoped Wyatt didn’t see her hand shaking ever so slightly as she took the photo. She felt a little like an intruder. Her curiosity was more than a passing thing. Like Wyatt said, though, these pictures were now out in the open. She glanced down and saw a woman with long blond hair gathered over one shoulder offering a bright smile to the photographer, whoever it was. Carrie stood on a cockpit seat next to her mom, and Dabny, whose hair was blond like Augusta’s, stared away from the camera, a dreamy look on her little face.
“Did Jerrod take this picture?” Dawn asked.
Wyatt shook her head. “I took it. Jerrod was off with Rob and a local guy he’d hired to help maintain the two dive boats. Augusta called it our ‘girls only’ afternoon.” She flashed a wistful smile. “She liked having those special days, and she always included me.”
Dawn tapped Dabny’s image. “Her expression makes me wonder what she was thinking about.”
Glancing down, Wyatt wrinkled her forehead in thought. “If I had to guess, she was making up a story. She had a great imagination and sometimes fancied herself a mermaid—she claimed she lived her mermaid life at night for real, not just in her dreams.” Wyatt’s smile was soft, full of affection. “Dabs used to say her tail was blue and glowed in the dark underwater.”
The air around Dawn’s head buzzed and her hands tingled. Every cell in her body responded to the image of the little mermaid girl. But she fought back the tears threatening to spill down her cheeks. “On some level I’m grateful to know that one thing about Dabny, but another part of me wishes I’d never asked.” Or seen the photos. The happy mom and dreamy little girl would haunt her. “It breaks my heart.”
“I understand,” Wyatt said. Then she quickly took the two photos and placed them back on the shelf, finishing up about the same time Jerrod and Rob came through the door, each carrying a box with the Donovan’s Marine Supply logo on it.
Jerrod’s face showed pleasant surprise. “I didn’t expect to see you today.”
“From the logo on the boxes, it looks like you’ve become well acquainted with Art and Zeke Donovan.”
“Yep, and we like dealing with them,” Jerrod said.
“I came here with a purpose.” She explained that the head librarian at the Two Moon Bay Library had some time that afternoon to meet Jerrod and set up his first talk. “She wants to fill a spot left open because another speaker is in the midst of a health crisis and had to cancel. I told her I couldn’t commit without asking you. She’d like to meet you.”
Jerrod shrugged. “I can free up time this afternoon.”
“Good. She said two o’clock works for her.”
Jerrod looked at Rob and Wyatt. “Carrie is home with Melody, so I can’t think of a reason not to go. Can you?” He turned to Dawn. “I like to run things by these two, just in case.”
“I’ve sent emails in response to a bunch of inquiries,” Wyatt said, grinning, “and I’ve booked a couple of dives in July and one group in August, with backup dates. And hey, it isn’t even noon.”
“So, looks like I can meet the librarian,” Jerrod said. “And now it’s time for lunch. You care to join us, Dawn? We usually send Rob out on a sandwich run.”
If he only knew how much she wanted to sit with them and be part of their group. “Don’t I wish. But when the text from Marion came in, I was running some errands before my meeting at Fitness & More. I’m having lunch there.” With a light laugh, she added, “No doubt some kind of salad whose main ingredients are kale and sprouts. Maybe they’ll live dangerously and sprinkle on a few sunflower seeds.”
Rob snorted. “Are you sure you can’t make up an excuse and have a thick roast beef sandwich with us?”
“I’m sure. Besides, I’ve grown kinda fond of kale lately.”
Rob responded with an exaggerated grimace. “Good for you.”
“Should I meet you at the library?”
The light moment was over. Jerrod had already gone back to his typically serious mode.
“Sure. I’ll be there a little before two.”
She raised her hood again and headed out into the rain. She had just enough time to get to the fitness center. Earlier, when Marion had contacted her, Dawn hadn’t been running any kind of business errands. She’d been on her way to Rock Hill on a mission for new summer clothes. She had Party Perfect’s book signing and a couple of fund-raisers coming up, including an event at the yacht club that called for a dressy dress. What she wore on her day-to-day rounds needed an update, too.
But she didn’t regret detouring to the marina to deliver the message in person. Disturbing or not, she’d wanted a glimpse into Jerrod’s life before the terrorists had killed Augusta and Dabny. Now she had it. The radiant woman and a little girl who fancied herself a mermaid were real to Dawn now. Most heartbreaking of all, the littlest girl in the photo didn’t remember her mom. I’d keep her alive for you.
But no one had asked her to jump in.
Fighting back confusing tears, Dawn forced herself to drive toward Fitness & More. Unlike her best pal, Lark, she didn’t shed tears easily. But sitting in the office with Wyatt staring at Augusta and Dabny, she’d had trouble holding it together. Ever since that night many weeks earlier when Jerrod and Gordon made tacos she’d been drawn to Jerrod—and Carrie—and the magnitude of the tragedy hit home.
Soon, she was inside the fitness center and her meeting with Paul and Nancy was underway. She’d long admired this couple, whose center had expanded into the storefront next door. They were one of those “have it all” couples Dawn admired, both professionally and personally. Over huge salads of greens and various kinds of seeds and nuts, Dawn went over her proposed plans for the next six months.
But it didn’t take long to note that neither of them was paying much attention.
“What’s up?” she asked, frowning. “You’re not in the room.”
They exchanged sheepish glances. “You don’t miss a beat, do you?”
For reasons she couldn’t explain, Dawn knew what they were going to say. Nancy was pregnant. “Anyone can see you’re preoccupied with something else.”
“Okay, okay,” Paul said, “you win.”
“No, we win,” Nancy blurted. “We’re having a baby.”
Dawn let out the best fake squeal of surprise she could muster. “When?”
“November…we think,” Nancy said. “I knew even without a test. I feel awful in the morning and can’t keep my eyes open past eight. I have a doctor’s appointment tomorrow morning.”
“Ah, I’m so happy for you.” The walls closed in. Dawn powered down her tablet and stood. “I’ve got an appointment at the library across the street, and there’s nothing that’s truly pressing here. Seeing the rain has stopped and the sun is out, do you mind if I leave my car parked in your lot?”
“Not at all,” Paul said, “but we’re sorry we wasted your time today.”
Nancy snickered. “Right now, we can’t seem to focus on anything but us.”
Through the glass wall of the office, Dawn could see a handful of people on the treadmills and cycles, and in another area, one of their instructors was leading a weight training class for at least a dozen seniors. She wanted to break into a run and go as far as her legs would allow. “You seem to be doing fine. Give yourself the day to bask in your news. You deserve it.”
Her clients exchanged another glance, intimate and pleased.
Assuring them she’d check in later, Dawn gathered her things and left. The library was across the street and down half a block. She spotted Jerrod sitting on the front stairs waiting for her. But he couldn’t see her, not if she turned the corner to the side of the building. When she dropped her bag on the sidewalk, she braced her hand against the brick wall. She stared down at her shoes and took air deep into her lungs and let it out slowly.
Her reaction was over-the-top and she needed time to regroup. She wasn’t going to get it. She picked up her bag and hoisted it on her shoulder and lifted her chin. News of new babies on the way always brought on stabs of envy, but nothing this ridiculous.
“Dawn? Are you okay?”
She spun around to face Jerrod. “Oh, hi.” Caught off guard, she didn’t have a chance to reset her mood and fake her demeanor. “Oh, my meeting was a little tougher than expected.” She started down the street. “How were those sandwiches?”
Jerrod stared at her, looking as if he had something he’d like to say. She changed the subject fast to the meeting ahead. Back to business, her safe haven.
Once they were inside Marion’s office, Jerrod took over and she stepped back, as she had during the interviews. Jerrod had no trouble talking about the topics of presentations he could deliver, from marine history to shipwrecks to the ecosystem of the Great Lakes.
Dawn inserted herself into the conversation only to talk about the usual mundane things like press releases. “Jerrod’s blog will be underway soon, and he can use the educational series at the library as a basis for a post. We’ll promote it on his social media, too.”
“Anything you want to send out is fine,” Marion said, pushing away from the desk.
Dawn knew the signal well. The meeting was over, short and sweet. That was good, because the day was pressing in on her. As Marion and Jerrod said their goodbyes, Dawn realized she had no inclination to go back to work.
Just outside the library, Dawn pointed across the park-like lawn in front of the building to a wood-and-stone pillar a half block away. “Have you seen the World War I Memorial over there?”
“I walked by it and meant to stop, but you know how that is. No time that day,” Jerrod explained.
“Let’s go over there for a minute. I bet you’ll find it interesting.”
As they walked, Jerrod chatted enthusiastically about ideas for his talks and blog posts. Dawn’s mind wandered in and out. But when they stopped in front of the memorial she said, “I thought you’d be interested in this because our mutual acquaintance, Zeke Donovan, had a hand in restoring this.”
The pillar was stone, but the pedestal and the base were made of wood, and the circular metal top was gleaming in the afternoon sun, obscuring the names etched on it. Two benches sat side by side at the edge of the bricks surrounding the memorial.
“What did Zeke do in the restoration?” Jerrod ran his hand down the smooth stone.
“I don’t know Zeke well, but he and an architect put in a proposal to bring this memorial back to its original condition. Some people wanted to haul it away rather than fix it up. They wanted to put an engraved plaque on a boulder over by the other war memorials around City Hall.”
“You’re kidding? It looks like a lot of thought went into this memorial.”
Dawn pointed to the list of names. “These four men died in that war.” She moved around the pillar a few feet. “And these five men were injured.” She reached up and tapped one name. “See this one? James Loran. My mother’s great-uncle. He lost an arm and was badly burned. I didn’t know him, but I heard a lot about him. He and his wife ran a little candy store here in town.”
“I see. I’ll bet you were among those who wanted this restored in place, right here.”
“You got it,” she said, running her fingertips along the engraved name. “And I wasn’t alone.”
She turned to take in the park around her. “For such a small town, only 13,000 people today, it always surprises me to look at the memorials and see how many men—and women—went off to the many wars.”
“I didn’t realize your family has such a long history here. Interesting about Zeke, too.”
Jerrod asked if she had time for coffee at the Bean Grinder. “One of my favorite Two Moon Bay institutions.”
“And another of Zeke’s projects. He worked with the architect to restore the octagonal building, originally an old dance and music hall they used in the summer.”
On any other day, she’d have jumped at the offer, been eager to go. She repeated almost those identical words. “Normally, I’d like that, but I have a conference call in an hour. I really need to get home.”
Why had she lied? She had no answer, but she wouldn’t find one if she went out for coffee with Jerrod.
“No problem,” he said. “We can do it another time.”
“Soon.” She took a couple of steps toward the street to go back to retrieve her car. “I’ll check in with you tomorrow.”
Jerrod walked off in the opposite direction and Dawn hurried to her car. Once inside, she gripped the top of the steering wheel and rested her forehead on her hands. What had come over her? The photographs in Jerrod’s office. Yes, they’d disturbed her. The unbearable sadness had thrown her off center. But then, minutes later, the news of new life on the way. Paul and Nancy having a baby. Their first.
Be grateful for Gordon. She shushed the little voice whispering that message. She didn’t need that reminder. She was overwhelmed with gratitude for her son sometimes. But did that mean it was wrong to want another family, another baby?
Dawn lifted her head and lowered her hands to start her car and buckle in. She’d soon be home and drop that heavy bag of business in her office and shut the door. She was eager to leave all those confusing emotions behind.