“YOU’RE GETTING YOUR local start with a trip to the Alice Swann, a hardworking schooner in her day,” Jerrod said as Rob motored away from the dock. “Sleek, too. She was considered a beauty.”
“I saw the picture on your website. You’ve got a lot of good stuff posted.” From their spot at the rail, Gordon glanced around Wind Spray and nodded approvingly. “It’s really cool. I didn’t expect to be out with you and Rob by myself.”
“We didn’t expect that, either,” Rob said with a laugh. “You got this lucky because we didn’t have guests scheduled this afternoon.”
“We don’t have that many free days,” Jerrod explained, not wanting to sound like they were wanting for business. “The weather’s been so good we haven’t had to hand out too many rain checks.”
“You’re getting the platinum trip,” Rob called out from the wheelhouse. “Besides, I’m not diving. Someone stays with the boat, even when we’re close to shore in shallow water.”
“I could be on boats all day,” Gordon said, his eyes lighting up. “I kayaked a lot up on Redwing Lake when I was staying with my dad. We went out almost every day. Sometimes my friend Evan and I put our kayaks in the water right in front of his house.”
“Kayaking will build your muscles. Do you play football in the fall?”
He shook his head. “Mom is too afraid for my head… I mean my brain. She thinks about concussions way too much. That’s ’cuz her friend Lark wrote a bunch of articles about kids and head injuries and now my mom worries about that.” He smirked. “Like she worries about everything.”
“I don’t blame her,” Jerrod said in Dawn’s defense. “I thought you were a hoops guy, anyway.”
Gordon nodded. “That’s right. I never liked football much. I’m into chess. Evan and I started a club.” He tightened his mouth. “Some of the guys on our basketball team call us nerds.”
“Ah, let ’em. I got those labels slapped on me, too.” Jerrod felt for the kid. He was smart, maybe a little gangly, but he was showing signs of growing into those long arms and legs and being a tall young man. “But I was the one who got a scholarship to Penn State. Without that, I’d have had to take out big loans.”
“What did you major in?” Gordon asked.
“History. US history was my favorite.” He’d been a loner as a young person. Bookish, not a team sport kind of kid. Maybe a little too quiet. Gordon seemed sort of the same, but with more friends, which was good.
“Those guys are just talkin’. Don’t mean anything by it.”
Good to know, Jerrod thought, jumping ahead to imagine Carrie at thirteen when everything was more complicated. Reaching that far into the future had the power to bring on heavy dread, even in his imagination. But he couldn’t freeze time. He glanced at Gordon standing next to him, leaning on the rail, staring back toward the shrinking shore.
Rob reduced their speed as they approached the site. Jerrod was almost sorry to move on to the next thing. He liked talking to Gordon. He was bright, for sure. But more important, curious. Like his mom, and maybe his dad. Jerrod couldn’t say anything about Bill. Well, except that he’d hurt Dawn. When she put the facts out of how he’d left her, her emotions had been raw. Like the other night. She was pretty raw, then, too. Jerrod couldn’t stop the vague feeling that she’d seen right through him.
Suddenly, Gordon said, “So how did you get into diving?”
“I’d already been a recreational diver for years. I had a buddy in high school whose dad liked to dive and he taught me. Later, I worked as a commercial diver during summer breaks. But during my short stint in commercial diving, I saw some strange things.”
“Like what?” Gordon asked.
“Well, I once went down with a team to examine a railroad car.” He laughed, recalling the sight of that rusted relic. “The thing had just rolled off the tracks when it derailed and it kept going until it was in pretty deep water. It had junk metal in it, so it was a pile of rust. I’ve seen the corpses of old refrigerators and washing machines sitting on the bottom in the sand. All kinds of stuff like that.”
“Weird. Like dumping toxins in the water or something dumb like that,” Gordon said.
“Your generation is smart enough to know that,” Jerrod said. “My parents’ generation was beginning to figure that out.”
“Maybe there’s going to be a need for marine biologists…you know, in the future. We had a guy come in to talk to the science class about Lake Michigan and all the things that could change it. And not in a good way. Knowing how to dive might be good for a scientist.”
“Good thinking. You’ll see one of those hazards today.” Jerrod filled in a little background about how he and Augusta started their diving business when he was a commercial diver in Milwaukee. “Early on, we realized we didn’t want to spend our lives in regular jobs. You know, doing the same thing every day.”
“I get that. That’s what my mom says about her business. She’s her own boss and gets to do different fun stuff. And she never liked the idea of being stuck behind a desk.”
An amusing picture came to mind of Dawn getting in and out of her car many times in the course of a day and checking her phone and scribbling in her notebook, doing research on her tablet. “I got that impression the first day I met your mom. When my wife and I went to Florida we got regular jobs only long enough to save our money to start our own business.”
At one time, Jerrod choked on the words when he tried to recite the most basic facts of their story, but not so much anymore. As he’d grown closer to Carrie in the last few months, the memories of Augusta and Dabny weren’t erased, not at all. But they were easier on his heart. He couldn’t explain any of it. He’d hoped the change of location would help, but he hadn’t anticipated feeling so at home here. He’d told Dawn he was emotionally dead, like a stone inside. But here with Gordon on the boat, at the yacht club with Dawn, and making small talk with Miles, he’d been present, as alive as anyone else.
“Our dream grew from there,” Jerrod said, eager to finish the story, “and our girls eventually came along.”
Gordon lowered his head and stared at the cockpit floor.
Jerrod sensed he’d said too much, been too personal. Jerrod wasn’t even sure how much Dawn had told him about what happened to Augusta and Dabny.
“Let’s get the anchor down,” Rob called out. He circled Wind Spray to put the bow into the wind and shifted the engine to neutral while Jerrod lowered the anchor. Following Jerrod’s hand signals, Rob put the engine in slow reverse to increase its hold. They were in only about eighteen feet of depth and just behind the outer edges of the wreck.
Rob put out the diving flag on a buoy line. They were already in wet suits, but before they finished getting into the rest of the gear, Jerrod said, “I know this is going to sound like a history buff talking, but every wreck, no matter where it is, Thailand or right here in Lake Michigan, is its own time capsule. It’s what hooked me in the first place.”
“A time capsule? I like that,” Gordon said, nodding.
“It’s true. A wreck is like a museum that puts on display a little part of what life was like a long time ago. And in this case, nine people survived and two died when the Alice Swann capsized. We’re like marine archeologists when we explore a site to see what was left behind, not either salvaged or destroyed. Nowadays, we don’t bring any of the treasures back up with us. Wrecks are preserved, not pillaged, if you know what I mean.”
“I hadn’t thought about people dying here, but I guess they did.”
“I don’t mean to be morbid about it, especially because most survived the capsize that sent the schooner to the bottom. With the other site we explore, the Franklin Stone, the men had a chance to get into lifeboats and start heading for shore. Some people on land came out to help. The ship burned up and sank to the bottom, but all the men made it home. When I look at a site, I also like to remind myself that so many things we take for granted weren’t invented the day this schooner went down. On the other hand, we still use a compass and anchors and line.”
“My grandpa tells lots of stories about when he was a kid,” Gordon said, looking like he was trying really hard not to laugh. “They didn’t even have their own phone in the house. There were, like, five TV channels.”
“Hard to believe, isn’t it?” Jerrod feigned an astonished expression before adding, “Hey, my dad told me all those stories, too.” He guffawed. “Tell you the truth, I used to groan when he started one of his anecdotes. They were like mini lectures.”
“My dad’s not too bad that way. Just Grandpa Keith.” Gordon shrugged. “He’s really old, but he tells funny stories about sneaking out of the house at night and diving in some quarry where they weren’t supposed to go. He claims he only got caught once, but I don’t know.”
“Oh, right,” Jerrod said sarcastically. “Trust me, old men always say they did dangerous stuff and nobody ever got caught. Or hurt. And they came back with huge fish, bigger than any of us have ever seen. They don’t even make fish that big anymore.”
Gordon started laughing. Jerrod had to admit it felt pretty good to make a young teenage boy react like that. Carrie was easy. She giggled if he made a funny face. But older kids? They could be a tough audience.
They finished with all the gear—the weight belt, the buoyancy devices, the tanks, regulators, dive computer. Impressed with how smoothly and respectfully Gordon managed the equipment. Jerrod’s confidence in the thirteen-year-old went up a notch or two. This boy had the ability to handle himself on a dive with adults.
“Only one more safety reminder,” Jerrod said. “We don’t touch anything, and not only because we don’t want to disturb this archeological site, but because sites can have broken glass and jagged sharp metal edges. Especially with the zebra mussels covering things up, you don’t really know what you’ll find. I don’t want anyone getting hurt. No trips to the hospital for tetanus shots.” He almost said, especially you.
“Got it,” Gordon said. But he started to pull at his suit and fidget with the dive computer.
He needed to stop talking and get the kid in the water, Jerrod thought.
Preparations done, masks in place and fins on, he signaled and they jumped off the side and began the descent, adjusting the pressure as they went. Jerrod pointed to his own ear, his signal to Gordon to make sure he wasn’t feeling a squeezing pain in his ears. Gordon gave him the A-OK sign back. He watched Gordon closely, signaling to stay close and follow him.
The rudder on the bottom came into view first in the midst of a mix of mussels and clumping underwater plants swaying in rhythm with the water. It was as if it had been waiting for Gordon to see it. Alice Swann had been loaded with shingles and cord wood, but much of that cargo had been salvaged.
Curiously, the masts and booms, and even the bowsprit, were intact. For Jerrod’s money, these functional, but still sleek pieces were the treasures of this particular dive. They wouldn’t be salvaged now, or Jerrod would have wanted to see them assembled in some kind of replica. It remained a mystery why these pieces had been abandoned on the bottom for almost one hundred and fifty years.
He’d told Gordon about the ship’s two anchors, pointing to the rusty one deep in the sand, set apart from the other pieces. The other anchor was on display in a park in town, along with pieces of the hull. Gordon had probably seen it but not known what he was looking at. Now he would.
Jerrod watched as Gordon lingered over the anchor with him and knowing time was short, pointed back to the large pieces of the intact hull where small fish disappeared and then suddenly reappeared. Some of the ship’s planking had fallen in a pattern that created tunnellike spaces that played to some instinct in the fish that led them to dart through these passages as if chasing each other in a game of tag.
Through the mask, Jerrod saw Gordon smiling as he pointed to the booms as they passed, but then frowned as he called attention to the colonies of invasive mussels. Today’s kids knew nature wasn’t static. Nothing stayed the same for long. Gordon already understood more about toxins and threats to the water than Jerrod had learned in four years of high school.
Jerrod signaled it was time to ascend, and they soon climbed back on the boat and began removing their gear.
“So what did you think?” As if he didn’t know. Through his body language and calling attention to what he saw, Jerrod could see Gordon was fascinated by this underwater world.
“Cool. I like it. Can I go out with you again? I don’t mean alone. I know you usually take a bunch of people.”
“Sure you can.” He held his hand up and paused. “I’ll rephrase that. It’s up to your parents, but as far as I’m concerned, you can come out whenever we have space. Looks like you had a good instructor on Redwing Lake.”
“Oh, yeah, my dad asked around and checked the guy out. My mom talked to him, too.”
“Well, good. We’re glad to have you.”
Later, when they’d gone back to the office, Rob immediately left to pick up an order at Donovan’s Marine. Jerrod was ready to tackle some paperwork, but Gordon hung around like he was reluctant to leave. He was tempted to ask what was on his mind. Instead, he waited.
Finally, Gordon shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Do you ever need any extra help around here? Like, maybe I could clean your boats or help in your office. I could maybe post things on your website. I’m good with tech stuff.” He spoke fast, but finally had to stop to take a breath. “See, that way I could pay for my diving. I go to my dad’s house on weekends, but I’m with my mom during the week until school starts.”
Jerrod really liked this boy. His parents might be divorced, but however they’d handled it, the good result stood in front of him. “I think we could arrange something.” He ticked off a few of the jobs that had to be done, pushing back worries about how Dawn would feel about her son hanging around him. “We get a few walk-ins and if we’re out on the boats we can miss them. They usually text or call, but maybe you could give them brochures, take their names—talk about what we offer.”
“Sure, I could do that.”
“I bet you’d be good at doing what marketers call ‘selling the experience.’”
The way Gordon nodded, it was clear he liked that compliment and nodded without any trace of false modesty. “I know how to talk to people…adults.” He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “I mean, I can learn.”
“Wyatt handles the website and posts my blogs and does all the social media. She’s probably at it right now. She’s a pretty fine tech person herself, but she might welcome a little help.”
“That’d be cool.”
“So, I’ll ask your mom,” Jerrod said, the specter of awkward conversations popping up again. “If she says yes, we’ll work out a schedule. Come to think of it, we can find plenty for you to do. We can work in some barter, but I’ll pay you for the hours you put in.”
“Okay…when…”
“I’ll call your mom a little later today,” Jerrod assured him. “Then I’ll let you know.”
Apparently satisfied with that answer, Gordon wheeled his bike out of the storage room and through the front door. He called out, “See ya,” before letting the door close behind him.
Jerrod stared at his phone.
Calling Dawn should have been easy, a pleasant break in his day. But telling lies had a way of messing things up, and he sure hadn’t been honest with her. He’d wanted to pick up the phone more than once in the last few days. Brave man, he was. So brave he’d held his phone in his hand a couple of times, but never punched the number.
Thinking about that night on the point was like having twenty-pound weights attached to his feet. He got nervous every time her words came back to him. Words about the elephant in the room, and his empty self-effacing talk. And most of all, her anger at his flattering her. Exhausted, he rubbed his eyes and dragged his hands down his face.
He was alone now and could make the call. It wouldn’t be long before Rob came through the door and Wyatt would be around later. They’d be on their computers comparing notes and he’d run his blog ideas by them. The days would pass one by one, and then, when the air was chilly and smelled of fall, he’d button up his boats for winter storage and be on his way to Florida, season one on Lake Michigan over. That’s the way it had to be.
That painful exchange with Dawn had convinced him he couldn’t stay in Two Moon Bay. No, going back to his familiar routine in Key West was the right choice. But he’d never feel good about what happened, and not just because of Dawn driving off in her car, making as clean a getaway as possible. Most likely she was second-guessing herself. That’s what he found so hard to live with. Especially because he’d wanted to take her in his arms and tell her she was right. Emotions he thought he’d never experience again had snuck up on him.
* * *
SHE OPENED HER eyes that morning, wishing she’d never met Jerrod Walters. Feeling more cynical than she had in a long time. “The show must go on,” she murmured. Right. After a quick breakfast and shower, Dawn dressed in casual khakis and a crisp white shirt that would probably wilt as the temperature climbed into the nineties. Then she stared at her image in the mirror while finger-combing her damp hair to fluff up the curls. Sunscreen, mascara and lip gloss were next. Done. Time to go.
Feeling more than a little foolish, she added one more step. She looked into her eyes in the mirror and said, “You’ll breeze into his office, cool as can be. Not a hint of stress. It’s as if the conversation never happened and nothing has changed. He’ll do his three interviews, you’ll keep him on track, and then you’ll leave. That’s it.”
She was glad Gordon wasn’t around to hear her talking to herself. But she’d read about affirmations and how saying something out loud added power to the thought. Glorified positive thinking, or maybe it was only a case of mind over matter. On that particular day, she was madly in love with the idea that acting like a situation was cool would magically make it so.
Bracing her hands on the sides of the sink, she sighed in disbelief. After these last months, she never anticipated her gut closing tight at the prospect of seeing Jerrod. She took the blame for it, of course. She climbed way out on that shaky limb marked with a hazard sign: Personal—Hands Off. All she accomplished was making their professional dealings—and friendship—awkward. Now she had to face him…she checked her watch…in twenty minutes.
“Speaking of personal,” she muttered to herself, she still couldn’t bear to admit how stunned and upset she was by what happened. Ever since Bill left her, she’d had trouble trusting herself when it came to men. But this time she’d been so certain. It was small comfort, but Lark didn’t believe Jerrod, either. Looking up into the mirror to check her makeup one more time, she said, “Yeah, and that and fifty cents…”
Once she was in her car and underway, her thoughts turned to Gordon. He’d been excited after diving with Jerrod and Rob. There was nothing like it, he’d said. Nothing. Something good had come from working with Jerrod, after all.
Knowing Gordon had benefitted from Jerrod’s expertise made the situation more tolerable, at least a little. She had good news for Jerrod, too. Still, she wasn’t exactly feeling breezy cool, and tried to conjure up a bit of nonchalance. She had to laugh at that notion. As Bill used to quip, nonchalant wasn’t in her repertoire.
As she parked the car and approached the office door, it opened and Wyatt and Rob came out.
“He’s waiting for you,” Rob said. “We’re doing the tour, so we’re out of your way.”
“Not that you’d be in the way,” Dawn said.
“He can be a little self-conscious doing interviews with us around,” Wyatt said, “so he’d send us to the boats, anyway. He’s never let us come along to hear his speeches. Augusta got to go because he couldn’t say no to her.”
By the time she went inside, she was restless, jumpy. She thought she hid her internal turmoil well when she said hello and sat down across from him at the desk.
“Hey, how are you? Big day for Adventure Dives,” he said, a big phony grin on his face. “Once again, your work paid off.”
His voice was shaky, so she chose to overlook the patronizing praise. She’d give him a break on that since he wasn’t the picture of cool, either. For the sake of the interviews ahead, she trusted this was only a temporary case of nerves.
“I bring more good news.”
“Is that so?”
“It’s your blog. People are noticing it,” she said, her tone bright. She filled him in on some interest he’d stirred up in Two Moon Bay and other towns. Planning boards and conservation groups had inquired about his business and programs. “I gathered the information. One event is in late August, so it fits in your time frame. I assume that’s true, based on your text about going back to Florida in October.” Back in the spring he’d been vague about his fall plans. Apparently, that had changed.
He nodded. “Nelson and I finalized a deal for this same dock space next year. We’ll be back in May.”
“That’s good.” She wondered about Carrie starting kindergarten in Two Moon Bay, then moving to a new school in Key West. Or maybe she’d stay with Melody in Florida. Oh, why was she even speculating? Either way, it was none of her business.
“We’re doing better than I anticipated. But the Florida location needs attention, too.”
“I imagine so.” So polite, so stiff. She cringed at the sound of her own voice. “As I mentioned, the first interview is seven minutes, and could be broken up for teasers throughout the day. You can use your minutes to talk about the diving, specifically the two wrecks.”
Managing a looser tone, she filled some minutes talking about how often she’d worked with the Green Bay news station with other clients. It could sound like bragging, as if he needed convincing. She shut herself up as abruptly as she’d started. She’d learned something from this episode with Jerrod: she needed a life. Other than Gordon and a few short relationships with unsuitable men, she’d lived and breathed her business.
“The public radio interview is different.” She reminded him the hour was going to be all about local attractions and how they fit into the big picture.”
She looked up from her notes and he glanced away, pretending something on his desk was of great importance. Was he even listening to her? “You’ll be on long enough to field anywhere from two to three questions from callers.”
“I understand,” Jerrod said, rocking the office chair forward and back and making it squeak with every move. “I listened to that program in the car the other day, so I know what to expect.”
She wished he’d stop with the chair. The squeaks were getting to her. Okay, he was nervous, but being there unnerved her, too. “Once the interviews begin, I’m going to move my chair away from the desk, so there won’t be any noise.” She pulled out a roll of tape and a sign she’d written on yellow construction paper: Interview in Progress. Reopening at Noon.
His eyes widened in surprise. “You really do think of everything.”
“Not really. But you don’t want Nelson coming around to say hello—or my son. He can’t stop talking about you.”
“Gordon is smart,” Jerrod said softly. “He catches on to things, seems to know what’s important. I see a great future for him.”
He sounded like he was leaving his parting thoughts. Maybe he was. Once he got back to Florida he might think twice about ever coming back. “He told me all about your commercial diving days,” Dawn said, “so now he has it in his mind he’ll see a plane or rusty old appliances someone threw overboard.”
“Underwater junk.” He smiled. “But no one needed to tell him that practice was harmful. Very smart that way, your son—and most of his generation, I suspect.”
She checked the time on her phone. “You can call in now. The producer is James, not Jim, Mantz. And my phone is off.” Relieved, she stood and pulled her chair away from the desk and closer to the door.
It took only a minute or two for James to transfer him to the interviewer, Lacey, a woman Dawn had worked with many times. She closed her eyes and listened to Jerrod, his voice strong, upbeat but modulated. He was a gifted speaker and radio guest. Not just okay.
In those few minutes, he’d sold the diving trips, repeated his website URL twice and used the phrase “mysteries beneath the surface of the familiar lake we often take for granted.” They’d worked on the wording until he was satisfied with the message. It invited questions.
The only glitch in the public radio spot was the lengthy caller going on about the dangers of diving. Dawn tensed when the man talked about not being able to breathe during a dive. Jerrod did the best he could in the couple of minutes he had to talk about safety and preventing accidents. Unfortunately, the interview ended with Jerrod responding to a host’s question about decompression sickness, the biggest risk in diving. He had only one minute—Dawn timed it—to explain it, but he was clear. He also added that he’d rarely seen it in his twenty years of diving.
When the call was finished, Jerrod swiped imaginary sweat off his forehead. “I’m glad that’s over. But that’s not how I like to end interviews. You know, finishing up with all the scary stuff.”
“But you managed to direct them to your website for more safety information.”
“That guy sure had a bad time of it, huh?”
She scoffed. Then in an instant she realized she had no reason to hide her experiences. What difference did her fears make now? “The man will probably never dive again. Like me.”
“What?”
She flicked her hand at him in dismissal. “I didn’t mention it before because it’s not really important, but some people have bad experiences that make diving out of the question.”
“That’s how you feel?” Jerrod asked. “And you’re just telling me this now?”
Dawn shrugged. “We shouldn’t get into it. Besides, we don’t need to have this conversation at all.”
“It’s just that I’ve asked you to dive with us. I’ve mentioned it more than once. And each time you’ve avoided an answer.”
It was an accusation, Dawn thought, and she supposed he was owed an answer. “Okay, you’re right. I guess I thought you’d drop it, maybe sense that I wasn’t a fan of the sport, even though I’d been on a diving excursion with Bill years ago.” She repeated what she’d told Lark about not being able to breathe, flailing around, and the panic…all of it.
“I wish you’d told me.” He spoke with gentle reproach.
She wouldn’t be thrown by his kindness. “It wouldn’t have mattered. I would have eventually said something if you’d kept pressing me.” In a light voice she added, “I guess the cat’s out of the bag now.” Her handbag sat on the floor at her feet and she playfully tapped it with her foot.
“The nightmares were the worst part. They went on for a couple of months. The fear of suffocation is natural, I get that. But the terror of the dreams had me thrashing and calling out in the night. Not normal. For the first time in my life I was afraid to fall asleep.”
“That’s terrible,” he said with a frustrated sigh. “Panic is the biggest risk of diving, at least in my experience. I panicked once as a teenager. But I’d already had good experiences. I wish…”
“You need to call the station now,” Dawn interjected. “The producer is Kay, Kay Carlson.”
The next fifteen minutes passed quickly. Dawn watched Jerrod’s expression change from pained back to neutral as he skillfully took on the knowing tone of a local. He got in a couple of good plugs for the tours on the Lucy Bee and also responded to a good question about the huge numbers of well-preserved wrecks in the lakes—thousands of shipwrecks, mostly unexplored. Dawn was more than satisfied with how he’d done. He’d made the most of placements that weren’t easy to get.
He patted the edge of the desk a couple of times. “Two fairly solid, one a little shaky. Not so bad.”
“You did fine. Don’t sell yourself short.” She stood and moved the chair back to the desk. Picking up her bag, she headed for the door.
“Do you have to run off?” Jerrod asked. “I thought, well, maybe we could have lunch.”
“Sorry, I have a lunch date. A committee meeting at the merchants’ association.” She kept her tone even, matter-of-fact without being unfriendly. “The sidewalk sale is coming up fast.”
Jerrod stood and awkwardly rested his fingertips on the desk. “I need to talk with you. The sooner the better. Could you stay for a few more minutes?”
He’s a client. She fought off the strong urge to run and instead put her handbag on the floor and sat down again. “What’s on your mind?” Please, please, nothing personal. I’m not ready.
“Uh, I need you to know…what I mean is…I wasn’t happy with the way we ended things the other night.”
He just had to get into it, didn’t he?
His halting voice was such a contrast to that of the relaxed radio guest of a few minutes ago. “You don’t need to explain,” she said, her weariness showing. “I get it.”
“I do need to explain, and no, you don’t get it.”
She lowered her head in a slow nod, but stayed on her feet, ignoring the chair at her side. “Okay. I’m listening.”
“You were right about me, Dawn. About a couple of things.” He rubbed his forehead as if he had a headache. “My feelings for you aren’t a figment of your imagination.” He shook his head. “You didn’t get the wrong impression. Not at all. I sent the messages.” He paused and looked her in the eye. “But I shouldn’t have.”
If he’d said nothing else, she would have walked away with her spirit a little lighter. Maybe her pride fully intact.
“Everything I said about you is true. You’re smart and easy to be with. I admire how you put your son first and came back from your losses.” He frowned. “I’m searching for the right words. I think you handle yourself and your business with a great energy.”
“Thank you for that.” She was grateful. No question. She also knew a “but” was coming around the corner any second now.
“All that’s true. But the good things about you don’t make up for what’s missing in me.”
He was honest. No wonder he would have done just about anything to avoid this conversation.
“I said I don’t have anything to give a woman now. But that’s only a part of it.” He pointed to himself. “There’s something missing inside me. I’m thankful I’ve got Carrie, but she deserves more than she’s getting.”
“That’s the one thing I’ll argue about,” Dawn said, convinced what she had to say had value. “She’s surrounded by love. That’s because of you. And Melody, Wyatt and Rob. The other night I told you not to sell yourself short as a dad. And I meant it.”
The muscles in Jerrod’s face relaxed. “So we can go back to the way we were with each other before? I don’t want a wall between us.”
“That’s it? I said you were a good dad, end of story. We’re never supposed to talk about it again?”
“You see me with Carrie now. But you didn’t know me before. I hired Melody for Carrie and hid out alone with my grief. I didn’t do right by her.”
“You’re doing right by her every second.” She was close to yelling at him. “That’s what I mean when I tell you you’re a good dad. So, you weren’t always perfect. So what? It’s who you are today that counts.”
“But I’m only finding my way now as a dad.” He rested his palms on the desk and dropped his head. “The thing is, Dawn, I can’t do it again. Not ever.”
Dawn stared at her shoes, gathering her thoughts. She could turn around and walk out the door. He’d said his piece. It cost him, too. She wouldn’t make him pay an even bigger price.
“You want another child, a new family.” His voice softer, he said, “You’ve been honest about that.”
“I know, but…”
“You’re entitled to someone who can give that to you.” He looked at her directly, not avoiding her eyes. “You’re young and beautiful and like I said, you deserve more than a man haunted by ghosts from the past. You deserve more than I can give.”
She had no words. What would she say? That she was wildly attracted to him, even knowing it was futile? And why? Because of his heart? His mind? Jerrod thought of himself as cold and numb. No matter what he said, she saw him as engaged with life and his child. So maybe he wasn’t animated all the time, but he was present.
“Dawn?”
She glanced up. “Sorry. My thoughts are racing. I take everything you said seriously. And I want to be friends, too.” She paused before adding, “But I don’t like hearing you run yourself down. You’re not perfect. Big deal.”
She smiled and slung her bag over her shoulder. “But I really do have to go.”
“We’re good?”
With a quick laugh, she said, “We’re good.”
She left and didn’t look back.