Something to Treasure

by Virginia McCullough

  “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 won
der 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.