DAWN PAID FOR the two iced lattes and led the way out the door to one of the few empty tables on the Bean Grinder’s brick patio. The warm June day made it nearly impossible to stay inside if she didn’t have to.
“I email and text Jerrod every day,” Dawn said. “We chat when we need to, but until the Fourth of July fireworks, I hadn’t seen him since the night of his presentation at the library. That was a week prior. But I’m going on the tour later this week.”
“Miles called to sign up for his training later this month. He’s eager now to see the two shipwrecks.”
“That’s great. Jerrod’s season is truly underway. He’s so busy.” She rubbed her hands together and whispered. “Ah-ha, my master plan worked, you see, and he has customers. What do you think of that?”
“My first response?” Lark asked, playfully. “I guess I’d say, ‘So what else is new?’”
True, her campaign had raised a flurry of interest in Jerrod. Dawn was dividing her time between other clients, including the merchants’ association in Two Moon Bay who were planning their annual sidewalk sale, Stroll & Shop.
“I’ve been working to drum up interest for Stroll & Shop,” she told Lark. “The bead shop and the art supply store have given our downtown another boost.”
“And what about diving?”
Dawn groaned. “That again.”
Lark lifted her hands in a show of mock helplessness. “You never give me a good answer, so I have to keep asking.”
“I know, I know. Jerrod mentioned it again, but I begged off successfully. So far.” She held up her left arm, the immobilizer gone. “Too bad my sore wrist excuse won’t fly anymore.”
“You knew that would have a limited shelf life.”
Dawn faced the fact that she hadn’t told Lark the whole truth about her aversion to diving. More than aversion. Fear. “I know it seems irrational, but I’m embarrassed about my fear of diving. I don’t like admitting I’m afraid of anything. That’s why I haven’t simply told Jerrod I’m not interested. He might ask too many questions. It’s about my foolish pride.”
“Oh, please. He surely knows not everyone shares his passion.”
Dawn shrugged, frustrated with herself. “On the other hand, my enthusiasm about the boat tour is completely genuine. I’m looking forward to hearing his spiel.” She frowned at her own word. “Spiel. Not the right word. It minimizes the history, and he takes that seriously.”
“From what you’ve said, he takes everything seriously.”
“So it seems,” she said. Enough about Jerrod. She and Lark had other things to hash over. She riffled through the pages to get to her monthly planning notes and tapped the page as if to refocus.
“Where did your good mood go?” Lark asked.
Tired of avoiding the truth, she looked Lark in the eye. “I think about Jerrod way too much.”
“Uh-huh. I get it. And now it’s bothering you. I know what it’s like for a man to start taking up space in your head. It’s not all bad. But are you really so worried about mixing the personal with the professional?”
Dawn shook her head. “No, I could handle that. I’m worried that he’s on my mind all the time.” Her mind drifted back to the moment of surprise when she’d seen him wandering around the park. She saw him before he spotted her. And when he did, his face had lit up. She’d no doubt looked the same way. He’d apologized for not understanding that he’d need to invite her to Nelson’s gathering. The whole night had been festive and fun. When he’d walked them to her car, he’d even seemed a little sad to say goodbye to Gordon.
She ran her hand over the open page of her planner. “I can be creative about his business and excited about interviews and booking talks for him. But I can’t get him off my mind. I’m way too happy about seeing him later this week. I look forward to every call, every visit.” She held her cup close to her mouth and said, “He hugged me. Twice. The night I went to his house we almost kissed. By accident. I moved, he moved.” She laughed at how silly it sounded.
Lark’s eyes sparkled. “And?”
“And I liked it. We might have made that connection again on the Fourth, if Gordon hadn’t been with me.” She batted her hand toward Lark and gulped back a mouthful of her latte. “Stop looking so amused.”
“Can’t help it, my friend. Besides, you’re making my point.”
“Which is what, exactly?”
Lark folded her arms on the table. “Maybe he can’t get you off his mind.”
Dawn’s first instinct was to protest, but she didn’t. Instead, she said, “I don’t know. That’s the thing. Sometimes I feel…” she put her hand over her heart “…there’s something there. It’s as if it swirls in the air between us. But then I think, no, it’s only my imagination.” She clenched her fist in front of her chest, almost shocked by the intensity of her inner turmoil. “That’s why it’s better that I don’t see him so much.”
Lark stared at her for a few long seconds. Finally, she said, “Meanwhile, Gordon is gone. I imagine you miss him.”
“Well, I don’t miss the grumpy teenage stuff.” She guffawed, glad for the diversion from the tightness in her body. “You know what I mean.”
“I do. Evan is easier to deal with when Brooke is with us. She likes to hang around him. It’s like he’s her hero, so he tries to live up to the image.”
“That’s probably the way it will be with Gordon and Zinnie. She’s toddling around now,” Dawn said. “The other day I told Gordon that no one would ever view him with such uncomplicated adoration than his baby sister.” She paused. “I wear my heart on my sleeve too often. I even told Jerrod I’d wanted more children.”
“You did? How did that come up?”
“When we sat on his front porch the night of the book signing and talked. It ended up being personal. I told him about Bill leaving me. And about how I wanted more kids.” She threw her head back. “What a dumb move.”
Lark tapped Dawn’s hand. “Stop saying things like that. It wasn’t dumb. You want what you want. You’ve been open about that for as long as I’ve known you. You love kids, you enjoy your family. You shouldn’t feel bad about saying it.”
Dawn squared her shoulders. “Right you are. But I also wanted Jerrod to know that I’m grateful for what I have. My thwarted little wishes are nothing like what happened to him. Besides, most of the time I’m okay…even happy.”
Lark gave her a sidelong look. “My opinion only, but Jerrod seems like the perfect match for you. It’s why I bring him up, and not only because he’s your client. Ever since you broke things off with Chip, you’ve said you wanted to find a man with more depth. Someone who would intrigue you.”
“Did I say that?” Dawn mocked.
“You did, my friend.”
“Next time I start talking like that, shut me up.” But yes, she recalled expressing that exact thought to Lark. It was her statement of resolve not to hang on to relationships that her gut told her wouldn’t work out. “Jerrod is nothing if not deep and intriguing. And not available.”
Dawn swallowed a mouthful of her drink before patting her page in the notebook. “Let’s get down to the business of the Art for Life fund-raiser.”
“Right. Now that’s going to be a great event,” Lark said.
“I hope so. Any group trying to fund arts and music education in our schools is fine with me. I’m proud the people of Two Moon Bay have gotten together to act on their own behalf.” Budget cuts had forced the issue. The town had a healthy—and growing—arts and crafts community and a budding community theater company. Firing art and music teachers didn’t sit well.
Grateful for the distraction, Dawn worked with Lark for the next half hour on the wording for the program for what had become an annual event. And a glamorous one, at least by Two Moon Bay standards. Once again, the yacht club donated its space and the Half Moon Café agreed to provide a buffet.
“I’m predicting this event will be even bigger than last year’s,” Dawn said, gathering up her things to leave. Lark did the same and after clearing their table, they headed toward their cars, both checking messages on their phones.
“Anything interesting on those screens?” a male voice asked.
She knew that teasing tone. Jerrod. When she lifted her head, she saw Carrie walking alongside him.
“Hi, Dawn,” Carrie said. She rocked up on tiptoes, then back on her heels and all but bounced in the air with a young kid’s energy.
“Well, hello there.” She turned to Lark. “This is Carrie, the special little girl I was telling you about.”
“Oh, that little girl,” Lark said, knowingly, “the happy one with pigtails and a big smile.”
Dawn acknowledged Jerrod, but addressed Carrie. “So did you walk here for your favorite treat?”
“Yep,” Carrie said. “Next time I’ll ride my bike. Wyatt and Melody taught me to ride. No training wheels.”
“Really?” Lark said. “I’m impressed.”
Jerrod beamed. “She caught on right away.”
Dawn laughed. “Such a proud dad. I can see it all over your face.”
“I guess I am.” He pointed with his chin to the patio. “I suppose you two were getting some work done.”
“As a matter of fact, we were.” Feeling awkward, maybe because Lark was making no attempt to hide her curiosity as she looked on, Dawn filled in details about the annual Art for Life event she helped publicize. “It’s quite a gala.” She cocked her head. “We even dress up.”
“Sounds like a worthy cause, too,” Jerrod said.
“We’ll be happy to sell you a ticket—and for your staff, too,” Lark said. “You might enjoy meeting some new people. Supporters come from several towns around here.”
“Real subtle,” Dawn said, rolling her eyes at her friend.
“I’m just saying…networking and all that.”
“I’d like to come to the dinner,” Jerrod said eagerly.
Carrie reached out and tugged on Dawn’s hand. “You know what Melody said? She said I might get a new mommy one day.”
“Hmm…did she now?” Dawn fidgeted with her necklace at her throat.
“So, we should go, little girl,” Jerrod put his hand on Carrie’s back as if to encourage her along.
“Could you be my new mommy?”
Dawn drew in a breath, her cheeks heating up, probably turning bright pink.
Jerrod laughed nervously. “Hey, little one. You can’t just go around asking people questions like that.”
Not trusting herself to look at Jerrod, Dawn leaned forward and cupped Carrie’s chin. “Becoming somebody’s mom can be more complicated than it seems. But anybody would be really lucky to have you as her daughter.”
Carrie didn’t say anything, but she tapped her chin where Dawn’s fingers had been.
“We’ll be on our way,” Dawn said, finally laughing.
“Let’s go to a table, honey. You said you were hungry,” Jerrod said, shaking his head.
“Yes…I…am.” Carrie emphasized each word with a hop.
Keeping her gaze on Carrie, Dawn said, “You have fun.”
“We will.” Another hop.
Lark waited to burst out laughing until they got to their cars and well out of Jerrod’s earshot. “What were we just saying about you and Jerrod?”
“I’m officially embarrassed.” She smiled sadly. “But you can see for yourself she’s a precious little imp.”
“You handled it beautifully,” Lark said. “All kidding aside, much better than Jerrod. He had trouble getting words out.”
Dawn caught her breath, affected by the question more than she cared to share, even with Lark. “Enough with that. What are you up to? I feel like we’re in high school, scheming to see our favorite guys.”
“I’m not up to anything.”
“Oh, your innocent face! Give me a break. You basically strong-armed him into coming to our fund-raiser.”
“It’s a fun—and dressy—night,” Lark said defensively, “and if he’s really going to become part of the community, then why shouldn’t he be invited to fund-raisers and other kinds of events where he can meet people?”
Dawn shrugged. “I know you’re right, but it seemed like you were finding a way to get the two of us together.”
“Oh, maybe I was. A little.” Lark paused. “He likes you, a lot. So why not go with it?”
“You know that for sure? You’re a psychic now?”
“I’ll ignore your sarcasm.” Lark stared at the gravel in the lot, apparently gathering her thoughts. “Okay, I get it. You’re skeptical. But I’m sure. I saw his eyes go soft when he looked at you. The man is a member of your fan club. Get used to it.” She jingled her car keys in her hand. “By the way, why didn’t you invite him? As your date.”
Dawn felt a familiar fluttering in her stomach, more from anxiousness than excitement. What if Lark was right? The other night, the way he brushed his cheek across her hair, his mouth so close to hers. She’d let her head rest on his shoulder long enough to know she liked it. “I suppose I could have.”
Before Lark could respond, Dawn changed the subject. “I’ve got my eye on a spectacular dress for the fund-raiser. I haven’t made up my mind yet, but maybe early next week I’ll go have another look at it.”
Lark’s face showed her delight.
“I knew you’d like that,” Dawn teased. “Your smile tells me exactly how you feel.”
“That’s because I like to see you enjoy your success,” Lark insisted. “Jerrod or no Jerrod, you’ve earned a great new dress.”
After exchanging a quick goodbye hug with Lark, Dawn headed toward home with her mind still on Jerrod. Who was she kidding? Of course she liked him. A lot. It was true what she’d told Lark about wanting a man with depth. Jerrod was certainly that, and he’d appealed to her from the first day she’d met him in the lobby of the hotel. That day his smile seemed like a rare reward for something—she just wasn’t sure what.
She thought ahead to the Art for Life fund-raiser and the dress she’d picked out of a crowded rack of new summer clothes. Sleeveless and fitted, it fell just above the knee. Simple, elegant, expensive—and not on sale. She loved good clothes, but almost always waited for a bargain. This time, maybe not. Why was she waiting to buy the perfect dress? Dawn made a left turn at the next corner and drove onto the street that would take her to Rock Hill and the boutique where a cocktail dress the color of peaches was waiting for her to come and whisk it away.
Dawn sighed. Treating herself to a new dress was fun and easy. But innocent and irrelevant or not, Carrie’s offhand question wasn’t so easy to laugh off.
* * *
WYATT WAS EVERY bit as capable as he was of delivering the tour script with flair. She kept the passengers entertained so skillfully that for the last couple of years, Jerrod often asked her to take on that role. His passengers sure took to her. And why not? Not only was she friendly, she looked the part of being more comfortable on the water than behind a desk. With her short, practical haircut and a sturdy, petite frame, Jerrod often thought of Olympic swimmers or platform divers. Rob could have done the tour narration, too, but he was shyer than he first seemed and preferred to hide out in the wheelhouse.
Lately, some of Jerrod’s best hours were spent hanging out in his office alone while Wyatt and Rob did routine maintenance on the boats or took an afternoon off. Taking advantage of the solitude, he completed paperwork, worked on presentations or pored over his history books. On some days, he took over for Melody and he and Carrie went out for lunch or to the park. He’d had a couple of diving excursions cancelled at the last minute, something that usually left him grumpy. But he’d salvaged his day by taking Carrie to the Bean Grinder.
Now, waiting for Dawn to arrive for a day tour, Jerrod had another passing thought about how she sometimes reminded him of Augusta, but not in the sad way he might have assumed. Maybe it was like playing a home video of images that fit together into a treasure box of their life. A snippet of a remembered day when Augusta patiently taught Dabny to tie her sneakers was as vivid now as the day it happened. Caught on camera. Or maybe it was her good-natured laughter when Carrie clamped her lips together and refused to eat the vegetables Augusta pureed into baby food herself. Didn’t Dawn’s eyes soften when she spoke to her son? Or even to Carrie? Wasn’t Dawn always switching hats, smoothly going from mom to professional and back again? “Jerrod?”
He started at the sound of his name. “Yes? I was…uh, lost in my thoughts, I guess. What do you need, Rob?”
“Just the pre-boarding count. We have ten confirmed and paid. Not including Dawn.”
“Ten.” His tone was flat. “Okay, then, it’s a go. Nelson told me it really picks up around here after the Fourth of July. Zeke over at the marine store said the same thing.”
“I’ll bet it does,” Rob said. “There haven’t been many warm days.”
Jerrod looked up at the scattered clouds in the sky. “I hope this weather lasts for the next few hours. This is the first time Dawn will see our show.” He’d hoped for a full boat when Dawn was aboard. More people usually meant a festive, party-like atmosphere.
“Here comes Dawn,” Rob said. “In cool shades and big straw hat. No sun damage for her.”
“She’s so fair-skinned she probably burns pretty easily,” Jerrod said, realizing as soon as the words left his mouth he’d taken Rob way too seriously.
“Ahoy, Lucy Bee,” she called out. “Permission to come aboard and all that.”
“Let’s see. Are you a dangerous pirate after our gold?” Rob joked.
Dawn held up her phone as she stepped onto the deck and down the two stairs into the passenger well. “No, I’m only dangerous with my phone camera. I can’t resist and I never know which shots will be perfect for your blog or your website.”
“You’re the first to arrive,” Jerrod said. He twisted his mouth in a show of disgust. “Not that we’re overrun today.”
“Don’t worry about that. It’s early in the season.” She adjusted her sunglasses and stared out at the lake.
That didn’t make him feel any better. It was a good thing that he’d decided to leave the Key West crew in place and run the dives through the summer. That might end up carrying this new location, and he’d invested heavily in it. No telling when—or if—the effort would pay off. But the slow start was on him. He’d barely allowed time to place the first ad in the first paper.
Wyatt led Dawn into the space behind the ladder-like companionway to the wheelhouse and answered her questions about their itinerary.
Leaving Wyatt with Dawn, Jerrod busied himself checking the bins for life vests, although he knew Rob had already handled that job. But he’d been jumpy all morning knowing Dawn would be coming along. Only when he saw a group of six people arriving could he relax and focus on what he did best. Even Augusta used to say he was a good host.
He stepped off the Lucy Bee onto the dock. “You’re here for the tour?” he asked just to confirm they weren’t tourists randomly wandering the docks.
“We are,” a woman flanked by two children said. “We’ve got a couple of kids eager to go for a boat ride.”
“Then you came to the right place. Follow me.” When he stepped back on the boat he spotted Dawn holding up her phone to catch the scene of the family of four and two grandparents coming aboard. She’d have them ready to post on his blog, whenever he managed to get it underway.
She’d lobbied for blogging as a way to tie together the two parts of his business, tours and dives, and even had a name for it: “Something to Treasure.”
Jerrod soon greeted the remaining four pre-signed guests and two additional people who signed up at the dock. The tour business equivalent of “walk-ins.” Wyatt got their information, processed a credit card from her phone, and then, with Rob in the wheelhouse, they were off.
As if she were a regular guest, Dawn took a seat at the end of one of the side benches and pulled a small notebook out of another blazer pocket. So, she could be separated from that humungous shoulder bag, at least for a few hours, anyway. Maybe she would simply relax and enjoy the tour.
They soon left Two Moon Bay behind and headed out to the site of the Franklin Stone. “For many years, my primary business has been running diving excursions. I’ve taken people out to discover the treasures that exist beneath the surface of the ocean, and now the Great Lakes,” Jerrod said. “And though diving isn’t for everyone, a day spent on the water always offers a unique experience in its way. The trip you take today won’t be an exact duplicate of the trip we took a few days ago and it won’t be the same as one a few days from now.”
Looking at the two kids on the tour, he took them to be in that middle part of childhood, around age ten or eleven. “Why do you think that is?” Jerrod asked.
“It could rain that day.” The girl of the pair spoke in a voice so earnest it sent a ripple of light laughter through the group.
“Right you are,” Jerrod responded quickly. “Weather changes everything.” He pointed to the shore. “All the landmarks look different even when the sun disappears behind the clouds.” He asked her name.
“Bonnie.” She used her thumb to point to her brother. “He’s Mason. He’s almost ten. I’m eleven.”
He’d always enjoyed talking to kids old enough to soak in information, but still not so self-conscious they were afraid to speak up. Keeping his focus on Bonnie and Mason, he said, “Not so long ago, the five Great Lakes were like superhighways. They brought people coal to heat their houses, food to cook, and machinery to build things. They even shipped Christmas trees to cities so folks could have them in their houses. One of those ships left Michigan but never showed up in Chicago with its load of trees. Even today no one knows what happened to it. They call it a ghost ship.”
He glanced at Dawn, amused that she was listening and not scribbling notes.
When they reached the site of the sunken freighter, he filled in the history and on his computer, clicked on the grainy photo of the ship and the newspaper accounts of it sinking. All eyes went to the projected image on the mounted TV screen, and Mason’s hand shot up.
“I like questions,” Jerrod said. “Go ahead.”
“What was inside the ship when it went down?”
“Coal. It was loaded with coal and headed for Chicago.”
“Where did all the coal go?” Bonnie asked.
“When I take people diving, we can see pieces of coal on the bottom, so some of it is still there.” Jerrod brought up the image of the lake bottom with what looked like black clusters and dots strewn about.
From there, a couple of the adults tossed out questions as Rob motored away and headed up the coastline toward Sturgeon Bay. He pointed out towns and piers and prominent steeples of old and historic churches whose names he’d learned himself only weeks ago. His dry runs had paid off. He also mentioned more shipwrecks when they passed near various sites. In the distance he saw a boat about the size of Wind Spray and explained the red-and-white flag indicated where diving was going on at other shipwreck sites, some more famous and thoroughly explored than others. His own presentation reinforced his belief that divers could spend a lifetime exploring and documenting all the ignored shipwrecks in Lake Michigan alone.
“Hundreds of ships were built for the military during World War II, and many were built here in Sturgeon Bay,” he said, before filling in more detail. They soon docked Lucy Bee at the Jacobson Marina, their designated lunch stop on full-day tours. That day, it was warm enough to eat at a long table on the outdoor deck. Wyatt and Rob led the guests to the restaurant, but Dawn hung back.
“This is so much more than I expected,” she said, her features animated and her eyes more light brown than green. “Now I’m doubly glad you want me to keep scheduling presentations and interviews. You’re good at this.”
She had no idea how much it meant to hear that coming from her. But a part of him winced against that thought, more personal than professional. He had a really hard time separating himself from Dawn on so many levels. If he thought about the business, she came to mind; if he thought about Carrie, she came to mind; if he thought about walking on a local trail or trying a restaurant, she popped into his mind again. And it could never work between them. He was still haunted by the past. His memories were like ghosts. They would always get in the way.
He dipped one shoulder to the side. “Nice to see you’re not listing to port with that heavy handbag hanging on your shoulder.”
Laughing, she lifted her arms to the side and flapped them like they were wings. “And doesn’t it feel great to be free of it for a day.” She flicked her hand toward the harbor where motor yachts and sailboats were heading either out to the lake or the other way to the bay side of the peninsula. Small runabouts and fishing boats went up and down the channel. “It’s a work day, too. How lucky can I be?”
His heart sank a little hearing her bring work into it, but that was foolish. She wasn’t riding along just for the fun of it. “Let’s get some lunch.” He couldn’t resist adding, “We need a break from all this grueling, backbreaking labor.”
She rolled her eyes. “Okay, okay, point taken.”
Teasing her was such fun. It was new for him to be lighthearted and able to joke around a little. When had that last happened?
Once seated on the deck, Jerrod gave his guests a fuller explanation of the reasons Dawn was aboard that day.
“This is my first trip on Lucy Bee with Jerrod, Wyatt and Rob,” she said. “I took a few photos I’d like to have posted on the website, but I’ll only do that with your permission. I’ll show them to you first.”
Mason chimed in right away. “We don’t mind.” He looked at his parents and Bonnie. “Do we?”
“I think we can handle it,” the mom said.
“We’ll include the whole family,” Jerrod said.
Having Dawn to interact with put him even more at ease.
Jerrod found himself in a conversation with the grandpa of the family group about the man’s childhood on a Michigan coastal town. Swapping stories of being kids building bonfires on the beaches was the type of small talk he could handle.
On the rest of the tour, Dawn alternated between taking some notes and talking with the guests, specifically asking what had made them sign up. How had they heard about the tour, and what had lured them into making a reservation? As he listened in, he learned his outreach methods all played in. He looked on as Dawn jotted down their answers.
When they docked Lucy Bee he thanked the guests for coming, and the small group broke into applause. When he lined up with Wyatt and Rob to say goodbye to their guests, he spent a couple of extra minutes with the kids.
“Seems like you enjoyed yourselves,” he said, “and now you have things to write about on those essays you’ll be assigned when school starts.”
“I’m going to write a story about diving to the wreck,” Mason said. “I remember what the picture looks like.”
Why that touched him he couldn’t say. “Why don’t I send a copy of that picture? Then you’ll have it to study when you write your story.”
The boy’s expression showed his pleasure—and surprise. He nodded vigorously, and Jerrod said he’d send it by email to his mom or dad.
“Probably my dad,” he said. “He checks his phone even more than my mom.”
“It’s a deal, then.”
Within a few minutes they’d finished up and he stood with Dawn while Rob and Wyatt went through the routine cleanup.
“So what did you learn from your questions? Anything important?”
She nodded. “Mostly good news about how they found you and the business. Another positive, they believed they got more than their money’s worth.”
“I can’t complain about that response,” Jerrod said.
“It’s a small sample. But all of the passengers found the photo of the Lucy Bee with the three of you very appealing. So, you and your crew are winners. But we already knew that.”
He followed Dawn off the boat and they walked toward the parking lot. “You’ll enjoy a dive just as much. We’re taking new video all the time to get the kind of clips you want for the website.”
“Good, good,” she said, taking a few steps toward her car. “We can talk about that later. So, I’ll see you at the fund-raiser next Friday. Don’t forget.”
She didn’t wait for a response but mumbled something about needing to be on her way, and a minute later, he was watching her pull her car onto the street. Going into his office, he couldn’t shake the sense she’d been a little too eager to get away.