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.”
Something to Treasure Page 5
