In Over Our Heads

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In Over Our Heads Page 5

by CJane Elliott


  “Well, hey, Melissa! How are you today?”

  “Good! Hey, when are you taking our class out on the boat again?” Walter barely had time to answer before little Melissa was chattering away, telling Walter about her day, the class guinea pig, and other exciting topics. It was like watching a pint-sized version of me.

  Oh my God! What was this? The townsfolk beaming, the kids making a beeline for him. Walter, the beloved of the community! All this touching scene needed was some dog to go slobber on him to make it complete. I have to say, the sight of Walter holding a smiling child and smiling back at her as she chatted a blue streak was making me crazy. I was infuriated that he’d hightailed it out of my life and never let me experience this side of him. At the same time, my heart was puffing up like the Pillsbury Doughboy while the rest of me was melting into sweet goo. I dealt with my agitation by seizing my pencil and sketching the scene as fast as my little fingers could go.

  Walter finally spotted me. Agh! Once again caught in the act of staring at him. At least I wasn’t beaming fondly at him this time. I gave a goofy wave. He nodded, then seemed uncertain about a course of action. Melissa wriggled, so he set her down with a promise to get her class out in the boat soon. I dropped my eyes and continued to sketch. When I glanced up, he was heading to my table, and I covered his drawing with a napkin.

  “Hello, Walter!” I trilled, covering my nervousness. “Do sit down and explain to me how you’ve become the town hero!”

  He gave me his half smile as he sat. “Not a hero. People are friendly here.”

  “Well, but it seems you’ve given them good reasons to be! Sponsoring the team, taking the kids out on the boat. Commendable, my dear, très commendable.”

  His cheeks pinked up, and he shifted in the chair. “Nah. It’s no big deal.” He pointed to my sketchbook. “Still drawing, I see.”

  “Always.”

  “I remember you sitting in chemistry class drawing pictures.”

  I tilted my head. “You remember that, do you?”

  He nodded. “I liked your drawing. Remember the one you did of Mr. Andrews with the test tubes coming out of his nose?”

  I snorted with laughter. “Oh my word, I’d completely forgotten! That was hilarious!”

  His answering smile—the full version—was glorious. “Yeah.” He leaned closer. “Can I see what you’re drawing?”

  “Oh, I don’t know….” Who was I kidding? I loved showing off my art. I whisked the napkin off the drawing of him and Melissa.

  “Wow. That’s me, huh?”

  “I’m glad you recognized yourself, or I’d be doubting my abilities.”

  Walter pulled the sketch to him and peered at it intently. “You got Melissa down perfect.” He raised his eyes. “You’re talented. You always were.”

  Flustered by the warmth in his gaze, I flung my hand like I was waving him off. “You flatter me, my dear! It’s just something I enjoy doing.”

  “You’re great,” he said, raising his chin as if to defy any arguments. “I always thought you’d become a full-time artist. You’re good enough to be one.”

  Yeesh. Good old Walter, bringing up my failed dreams about going to art school and having my work hang in galleries. But my dad had advised me to be practical, so I’d detoured into a communications degree. Working at the ad agency gave me a chance to be creative and do art without becoming a pauper—that’s what I told myself, at least.

  A memory of the paintings on the bar walls struck me. “Are you the one who put the local art in Cap’n Otto’s?”

  “Yeah. I admire people with artistic talent, having none myself. I try to encourage them. And you’re as talented as they are.”

  How might my life have been different if Walter had stuck around and encouraged me in my art? I had to change the subject before I started crying or bitterness overwhelmed me. “Thanks, doll. But I’m good with what I’m doing for a living, and it keeps me out of trouble.”

  “The ad agency?”

  “How did you know?”

  “I heard you talking about it on the cruise yesterday.” Oh, yes, my conversation with Miles. “So you like it?”

  “I do enjoy it.”

  “Good. I’m glad you’re doing something you like.”

  “Me too.” I felt myself beam, which was ridiculous. What kind of fool did it make me that Walter’s nod of approval warmed me down to my little tippy toes? I had to keep remembering that this was the guy who’d dumped me and walked away, never to return. Why should I care what he thought?

  “So, I need to run. I’m working at the dive shop today.”

  “Oh. Okay.”

  “But I wanted to check. Are you still planning to do the scuba dive?”

  Ugh. He would bring that up. “Well, of course. Why not?”

  His face got all grim and Walter-like. “Because you don’t have to do it just because your friends are. If you aren’t sure, then don’t.”

  All my good will evaporated in a cloud of irritation, the better to cover my lurking terror at the thought of sinking into the deeps as the water closed over my head. “I guess I’ll make up my own mind. And by the way, there was no need to bring up that… that incident at the river. You saw me snorkeling with no problem. If I want to learn to scuba dive, there’s nothing you can do to stop me.” Nyah nyah nyah, so there!

  Walter heaved a long-suffering sigh as he got up from the table. “Okay.” That seemed to be the end of our tête à tête, but then he paused. “Um, is it okay if….?”

  “If…?”

  “Could I have this?” He pointed to my sketch of him and Melissa.

  “Oh! Sure you can.”

  “Thank you.” He picked it up and held it as carefully as if it were a Ming vase.

  “You’re welcome, doll.”

  Equal parts touched and annoyed, I watched him exit the coffee shop, then fell to contemplating my stupidity at having backed myself into that scuba-diving corner. Trying to distract myself from my dread, I started sketching aimlessly. It didn’t help when I glanced down and saw I’d drawn a shark with huge teeth.

  Chapter FIVE

  THE NEXT day we pulled up to the Back Bay dive shop for the first scuba-diving lesson. According to Marco, scuba certification was a three-day process. The first day was learning some basics and getting used to equipment, the second day was trying things out in a pool, and the third day was a real live dive in the ocean. I shuddered to think of it. Although I’d tagged along with the others, I’d changed my mind again about actually diving. Just because I’d had a temporary burst of insanity set off by one Walter Elkins didn’t mean I had to follow through with my wild declarations.

  “This is going to be so fun,” said Sophia, our resident Mary Sunshine.

  “I’m happy you’re doing this, sorella.” Marco smiled at his sister.

  “You guys have a great time. I’m not doing it,” said I, the resident Debbie Downer.

  “Antonio….” Marco raised a warning eyebrow.

  Let him. He and his eyebrows were not getting me to commit an insane act, no matter what I’d said before when goaded by Walter’s protectiveness. I’d come to my senses. And Walter had nothing to do with it! I could protect my own ass quite well without Walter ordering me around.

  “Marco…,” I echoed, waggling my eyebrows back at him. “I’d rather sit on the sidelines and cheer you on. I wasn’t ever planning to scuba dive. I just said that after too much champagne.” And Walter Elkins trying to run my life, I thought but didn’t add.

  Jonathan frowned. “Marco, Tony can change his—”

  I barreled right over him as we pushed open the doors to Back Bay.

  “I mean, can you picture me at the bottom of the ocean with a tank on my back? Moi? The whole thing is ridiculous! No, I’ll sit in the boat and wait for you fools to come back up. And you better not drown on me, because—”

  I cut myself off when I came face-to-face with Walter. What was he doing here? We were supposed to be meeting someon
e named Patricia.

  “Walter?” Marco looked as puzzled as I felt. “I thought Patricia was our instructor.”

  “There’s been a change in plan.” Walter shifted on his feet and darted a quick glance at me. “I’m going to be your instructor.”

  “That’s great,” said Jonathan, traitor that he was. “We’ve heard you’re the best.”

  I put my hands on my hips. “I thought you didn’t teach anymore.” And what are you doing here? Keeping an eye on me? As if!

  “Um, I don’t, normally. But since Marco’s the only experienced diver, and there’s some storm warnings beginning to brew… I just wanted to make sure everything runs smoothly.” He glanced at me again, then studied the floor as though something there fascinated him, while I tried not to harrumph too audibly. Damn if the man wasn’t determined to keep a leash on me!

  “Well, that’s excellent.” Marco kissed Jonny’s temple, then beamed at me and Sophia. Apparently he hadn’t believed me about not doing this stupid scuba diving.

  I needed to assert myself!

  I opened my mouth but was suddenly confused. What was I asserting again? That I wasn’t learning to scuba dive (take that, Marco!), or that I was (so there, Walter!)? While I paused, befuddled, Walter beckoned us to follow him to the classroom space.

  As I was trailing behind the others, Miles’s words about Walter as an instructor came back to me. Someone had a scare—like, almost drowned—and he quit doing the lessons. I’m not sure why. It wasn’t his fault that the dude panicked and didn’t follow directions. But it freaked Walter out.

  And yet here Walter was, determined to be our dive instructor. Because of me. I knew it without having to be told. The knowledge that Walter would make himself uncomfortable to ensure my safety crept up my spine like a warm wave. Suddenly wild unicorns couldn’t spirit me away from this whole insane endeavor.

  I was learning to scuba dive! And Walter Elkins was going to teach me.

  HOURS LATER we emerged from Back Bay into the waning sunshine. My brief spurt of optimism had been ill founded. Scuba diving was already scary as fuck, and all we’d done today was classroom stuff. But, I mean—the “physics of diving” and learning “dive tables”? I’d been terrible at science, as Walter should have remembered, and Walter had been on my back all day long, drilling instructions into me. Sometimes it’s hard for me to master physical things—the physical universe is not my strength—and when I’m stressed, my mind has an unfortunate tendency to go blank. Walter hadn’t helped matters. The blanker I’d gotten, the more abrupt and commanding he’d become, and I’d felt like a total incompetent. At the end of the lesson, Walter had stomped off, saying he’d see us tomorrow at South Winds Pool, leaving me wrung out like a wet dishrag.

  “Don’t worry, Antonio,” Marco said bracingly as we pushed open the doors. “You’ll get it. I have confidence in you!”

  “You have confidence in everyone,” I grumbled.

  Having apparently decided to take a leaf out of Marco’s “rah-rah” playbook, Jonathan put his hand on my shoulder. “You’ll get it. It’s so cool you’re doing this!”

  Sophia beamed. “Yes! Yay us, caro!”

  I heaved a sigh but got distracted from making my usual retort by a familiar voice.

  “Hey, guys!”

  Miles stood across the street, wearing sunglasses, a welcome sight as he leaned against a red sports car with the top down. He looked like a movie star.

  “Hello there!” I called, happy to see sunny Miles after spending the day with surly Walter.

  “Watcha doin’, Anthony? Wanna go for a ride? I’m off tonight.”

  I surveyed my friends’ faces for their opinions, and they seemed amenable to losing me for the evening. I asked Sophia, “You sure, cara? I hate to desert you with these lovebirds.”

  “I’ll be fine, caro. You go ahead with your amichetto.”

  Marco laughed, so I knew she was teasing me in Italian, that vixen.

  “My ami-what? Anyway, I’d feel better if you’d pick someone up to have a fling with. Male or female… the world of Key West’s your oyster.”

  “I’m not worrying about it. Have fun. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

  I kissed her on the forehead. “Thanks for the blank check, doll.” Ducking her swat, I smiled over at Jonny and Marco. They were holding each other close, no doubt murmuring dirty sweet nothings. “Bye, guys!”

  They broke away enough to wave at me as I crossed the street to Miles, who was still leaning against the car, arms folded, the picture of sexy grace. As I came close, he opened his arms and held them out. I grabbed them, then leaned in so our chests touched.

  “Well, hey,” he murmured, gazing up into my face—I didn’t tower over him, but I did have several inches on him. God, he was so pretty. And he smelled great. And he wasn’t glowering at me. He linked his arms around my neck. “How was class?”

  “Fantastic. So fantastic, I’m in dire need of a drink. Where are you taking me?”

  “Oh, I have a place in mind. A private cove. Are you hungry? I’ve got a bottle of wine, and I thought we could pick up some Cuban sandwiches and fries from a local place I know.”

  “Ah, you’re a lifesaver. Sounds divine.”

  Just then, the now-familiar voice of doom rang out. “Miles!”

  Miles pulled away from me and scowled in the direction of the building. “Jesus, Walter! What now? It’s my night off.”

  I turned to see Walter looking supremely uncomfortable, shifting from foot to foot. He seemed so miserable, my foolish heart turned over and I had this urge to soothe him. Why, I didn’t know, since he’d been beastly to me all day. I again wondered what his and Miles’s connection was. Was I breaking into something that had been going on between them? But Miles didn’t give any indication that he and Walter were together, or that he cared about Walter’s feelings.

  “Uh. Be careful with the car. That’s all.” Walter tightened his lips into a grim line and crossed his arms over his chest.

  “Of course. Anything else?” Miles snaked his arm around my waist and held me close as he stared Walter down.

  “It’s predicted to rain later on.” Walter frowned at the skeptical glances Miles and I cast at the mostly clear sky. “So put the top up before it does.”

  “Yeah, ’kay.”

  “Good night, Anthony. See you tomorrow.”

  Startled to be addressed, I gave a weak smile. “Okay. I’ll try to get a better handle on everything tomorrow. Sorry I was such a bad student.”

  “You weren’t bad. I just… I just want everything to go smoothly for you.” Walter’s cheeks reddened.

  Flustered now, I spazzed out with my hands flying around. “Oh, thanks, doll!”

  Miles snorted and reached around me to open the car door. “Shall we?”

  “Sure!” I concentrated on getting into the car without tripping. When I was settled, I looked back at Walter, but he wasn’t there.

  Miles got in on the other side and pulled out his phone. “I’m going to order now because this place—Sandy’s—gets crowded. They have these killer Cuban sandwiches with a bunch of meat, and they come with fries.”

  My mouth watered. “Yes, please!”

  He grinned and tapped out the order on his phone. But when he pulled out onto the street—having done nothing to put the top up, I noted—his glance was quizzical. “What’s the deal with you and Walter again?”

  “The deal?” I affected a puzzled expression.

  “He hasn’t been himself ever since you showed up.”

  “He hasn’t?” As if I didn’t know. I stroked his arm, trying to distract him. “I haven’t noticed.”

  Traffic was light, and the warm ocean air felt wonderful. A hint of salt and gorgeous floral smells filled my senses as the sun slipped below the horizon. God. I could live here. And I had grave doubts it was going to rain. Hoping Miles would drop the subject of me and Walter, I fiddled with the radio until I found some salsa music.

&n
bsp; No luck. “Yeah. Like him being your dive instructor when he hasn’t done that in over a year. I think he’s seriously into you.”

  A laugh burst out of me. “That’s ridiculous! He just doesn’t want me dying on him. I almost did that before, and it freaked him out.”

  “What?” Miles turned onto a busier street. “What are you talking about?”

  Oh. I hated to talk about my near-drowning, but for some reason telling Miles seemed easy. “You know we knew each other in high school?”

  “He mentioned that.”

  “Did he? Yes. We were… we were friends. Well, it happened the summer after high school. We went swimming in this river, and I got my foot caught on a root and almost drowned. Walter didn’t handle it too well.”

  “Wow, really? That’s rough. But what d’you mean about Walter? How did he handle it?”

  “He took off. I mean, he didn’t even come to see me in the hospital, and after I got out, I never saw him again, except for once.”

  Miles glanced over at me, eyebrows drawn together. “That’s cold.”

  “I guess. For whatever reason, he couldn’t deal with it. I guess he felt guilty, which he so totally wasn’t. Not about the drowning thing, I mean. But yeah—the never seeing me again was pretty cold.” I shrugged against the pang of pain, which still felt surprisingly fresh, then tried to bring myself back to the present. In a sports car with Botticelli Boy, his curls blowing in the wind, his perfect profile set off by those groovy sunglasses, his skin golden and sun kissed. Drool!

  “Huh. Walter’s always been an odd duck.”

  “You can say that again.”

  “It makes sense why he was freaking out about you scuba diving, though.” He frowned. “Oh, wow. I can see why you didn’t want to do it. Are you okay about going for it?”

  My face warmed at his concern. “I’m… I think so.” Miles was so easy to confide in. “Then again, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t just a wee bit terrified out of my fucking mind.” I smiled, and he laughed.

 

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