Something to Treasure

by Virginia McCullough

  “Yes, she is. This is Ms. Dawn Larsen. Like I told you, she’s what people call a public relations consultant.” Carrie had no idea how much he needed Ms. Dawn Larsen, the pro.

  “It’s fine if she calls me Dawn.” She peered down at Carrie and said. “I bet you’re about five years old. Am I right?”

  Carrie nodded.

  Jerrod looked on as his daughter told her new friend about the other kids at her morning preschool. Carrie didn’t know Dawn helped him find it. Thanks to her, two houses would also be available the next week, so his stay at The Sleepy Moon Inn would be short. Nice as it was in his spacious room, he was looking forward to feeling at least a little like he actually lived somewhere.

  Waving goodbye, Nelson said, “Well, Jerrod, I leave you in good hands. Dawn can show you every inch of this town.”

  After Nelson left, Wyatt and Rob joined them on the deck and Jerrod made the introductions. For him, it was like bringing Dawn into his family. Besides Carrie, Melody, Wyatt and Rob were the most important people in his life.

  “Let me give you a quick overview of the immediate area,” she said to the assembled group. She started by explaining that the town’s waterfront was divided into two main parts. “We’re in the heart of the working waterfront now.” She waved toward a multi-floor storefront building set in a cluster of trees farther down the shore. “That’s Donovan’s Marine, the closest marine supply store. They either stock everything you’ll need or they’ll special order it.” She grinned at Jerrod. “The other day, I stopped in to see Art and Zeke Donovan, the father and son who own the business. I told them all about you.”

  Dawn pointed to an area beyond the boatyard. “The yacht club is down that way, and you’ll also find a food market, a couple of restaurants and the Silver Moon Winery over there. There’s a playground in the big lakeshore park that connects to our downtown. People gather in the center of town all summer for various things. Most important of all, it’s where you’ll find the Bean Grinder, the busiest coffeehouse for miles. You can’t miss it—it’s in an old but refurbished octagonal building painted red.”

  “I don’t think we’ll get lost,” Wyatt said with a grin. “I like that we can walk to most everything we need.”

  “A trolley comes around, too, and stops at all the major landmarks and will let riders off in front of stores on Bay Street.”

  Speaking directly to Carrie, she said, “I have to be going now, but I’m sure I’ll see you again soon. It was so nice to meet you—all of you.” She nodded at Melody and then at his crew. “Let me know if you need anything. If I can’t answer the question, I can find someone who can.”

  Whoosh...that’s what he thought of when he realized she was hurrying off in the same energetic manner in which she’d come down the dock. Before she had a chance to rush off, Jerrod moved to her side and walked with her to the marina parking lot. “Uh, I need to talk with you about the diving excursions and what I’d like highlighted in the brochures to add to their appeal. Make them sound exciting. I’m wondering if we can meet soon. Maybe grab some coffee?”

  He was about to suggest getting together later that day, but she pointed out that Ian was due the next morning to take preliminary photos of the boats. “That’s fine. I wanted to go over brochure ideas with both of you and direct some shots, anyway,” she said. “So, maybe we can find time after Ian has finished.” She knit her brows in thought. “I don’t have other appointments scheduled for tomorrow afternoon.”

  Her expression communicated that she’d already jumped ahead to her next stop of the day, probably another client meeting.

  “That would be fine,” he said, resigned to wait.

  “So, until tomorrow morning,” she said. “It’s sure to be a big day for your business.”

  “Yes, thanks to you.”

  “We’re a team,” she said, patting his upper arm, her face reddening a little. Her eyes softened when she added, “Before I forget to say this, Carrie is adorable—breathtaking, really.”

  Thrown by her wistful tone, he muttered a quick thank you. But he doubted she’d heard him. She’d fixed her gaze on her car and was fidgeting with her keys. He stepped aside to give her space to get behind the wheel and start the engine. She quickly drove out of the spot without so much as a backward glance.

  “See you tomorrow,” he murmured. He walked toward the office he’d rented in the square frame addition behind the marina. Her words about Carrie circled through his mind. Dawn wasn’t the first person to comment on his daughter’s charm, but usually the remarks were just part of casual social banter. Instead, real emotion had seeped into Dawn’s words about Carrie. In an instant, this woman he’d just met had touched his heart. Again. There was something wonderfully sunny about her. Even her hair, which brought to mind sunrises he’d seen all over the world, matched her personality.

  Shaking his head, he whispered, “Not good, not good.”

  * * *

  DAWN TURNED DOWN Night Beach Road and pulled into Lark’s driveway. Not so long ago, Lark had lived in this compact cottage on the shore with her son, Evan. Not anymore. After marrying Miles last fall, what had been a small home for two was transformed into a large office—and a guest house when needed. Lark and Miles had bought a large waterfront home down the block, which led Lark to joke about her short commute. So many changes in her best friend’s life, Dawn thought, and she’d been right there with Lark personally and professionally.

  She knocked on the cottage door before pushing it open and calling out, “Hey, Lark, I’m here.”

  “Come on in,” Lark said. “Give me a second. I’m finishing up one last paragraph.”

  Dawn spent much of her work life on the road seeing clients in their offices or shops or meeting with graphic artists, media professionals and visitors’ center staff throughout the region. On the other hand, Lark spent most of her days sitting at her computer writing articles on health care and parenting—and enjoying herself every bit as much as Dawn thrived on being on the go.

  Dawn dropped her shoulder bag on the couch and shrugged out of her coat. Instantly at home in Lark’s cottage, she sniffed the air and immediately recognized the scent. Hazelnut. Lark knew it was one of her favorite coffee flavors. The pot and mugs were already on the coffee table.

  “There,” Lark said. “The end... Well, not quite. It’s the end of the first draft, anyway.”

  “The wordsmith is done for the day?”

  “Not exactly. One interview to go. How about you?”

  Dawn frowned, needing a minute to think. “Two strategy sessions on the phone.” She glanced at her watch. “I almost forgot.”

  “Hmm... Is that because you’re preoccupied with your new client?” Lark asked in a light tone. “How did you describe him again? Good-looking, super fit, interesting, an adventurer. What more could a woman want?”

  “Let’s put available at the top of that wish list.” Dawn made an effort to keep her voice light. “I met Melody today, who could be his much younger partner, as well as the little girl’s nanny. Hard to tell. And then there’s Wyatt.”

  “Wyatt?”

  “She’s one of his crew, but maybe she’s his girlfriend.” She threw up her hands. “I know next to nothing about the man’s private life. Matter of fact, I don’t know all that much about his business yet, either. We’re meeting tomorrow, so I expect to pick up more of the flavor of what he does.”

  Lark came out from behind her desk, tablet in hand, and sat in one of the reading chairs in what had once been the living room.

  “There’s something closed off about him, though,” Dawn said, thinking about his somber expressions. “He mentioned losing his wife, and that’s as far as it went.”

  There was more to it than that, but she didn’t want to talk about it. Seeing Jerrod’s daughter only reminded Dawn of a recent painful memory. On Sunday, when she’d stopped to pick up
Gordon, Bill had opened the front door and stepped back so she could come inside the entryway. Snug in his arms, Zinnie was happily gnawing a teething ring. Bill had shared a light laugh with Dawn when the baby shyly hid her face in Bill’s shoulder in the presence of a stranger. Then Carla came to the foyer. She nodded tersely and lifted the baby out of Bill’s arms and walked away. Fortunately, Gordon had been ready to leave, so she could escape Carla’s icy way of ignoring her.

  Gordon had been unusually talkative on the drive home, telling her stories about bowling with his dad on Saturday. Just the two of them.

  “Earth to Dawn.” Lark waved her hand. “Where did you go?”

  “Sorry. I was thinking about the conference,” she lied. She quickly changed the subject to the appointment with Ian and the need for graphic design. All business, all the time. Much as she loved running her firm, she hadn’t planned to spend her thirties living quite like this.

  “I’m looking forward to meeting Jerrod and his crew,” Lark said. “Aren’t you glad you and Bill did some diving years ago? You start off with a good understanding of what he does.”

  Dawn nodded and fidgeted with the pages of her planner. “That was tropical diving.”

  “I suppose you’ll go on a dive with him, so you can see the Franklin Stone and the other one. What is it again? The Alice Swann?”

  “Listen to you,” Dawn teased. “Already up on the shipwrecks.”

  “Just doing my job. I got the names from the notes you sent and I came up with a few ideas for the copy. How early do you think he’ll go for a trial run—trial dive, I should call it? In May?”

  Dawn glanced down and consciously stopped her fingers from continuing to nervously ruffle the page of the planner. She looked up only to see Lark peering into her face. “What?”

  “What, indeed,” Lark said. “What’s bothering you? I can see you’re not yourself.”

  She couldn’t deny she was troubled. “I guess I’ll tell you my secret. I have to tell someone.”

  Lark leaned forward in the chair. “You can trust me. You know that.”

  In the past few years Dawn had almost no occasion to think about her bad experience. Even hearing about Jerrod’s business hadn’t brought it back, other than in an abstract way. Now that a diving business was not only in town, but the owner was her client, her fears had returned in a bigger way than she’d expected.

  “Bill and I went to a diving class at the YMCA down in Bratton so we could have our certification when we visited St. Croix. Gordon was only three years old, and he stayed with Bill’s parents while we went away for a few days over Christmas break. Bill was still teaching math at the middle school then.” Was it really necessary to go into all that? Probably not, but she hadn’t known Lark then. “Anyway, we did some snorkeling and then we did two dives, which were okay.”

  “Just okay?”

  Dawn nodded. “Bill loved it, but I was a little afraid all along.” She pressed her fingertips to her temples as if she could massage away the memory of the rising fear. “On the third dive I panicked. I thought I didn’t have any air and couldn’t breathe. I lost sight of the guide, had no sense of where I was. We were well within the water depth that matched our certification, but I did everything wrong. I flailed around and held my breath. Bill saw what was happening and alerted the guide and the two of them surfaced with me.”

  “Oh, that sounds awful. And you didn’t dive again?”

  “Absolutely not, and I have no desire to. Zero. But I don’t like being afraid of anything. That’s what bothers me.” Even the aftermath hadn’t been pleasant. The panic hadn’t easily subsided once she knew she was safe. For weeks she’d had dreams of being suffocated. Irrational, crazy stuff. Bill would shake her awake, quick to reassure her she wasn’t drowning. It was all a bad dream, start to finish.

  Lark frowned. “But Dawn, we had that weekend trip in Florida with the boys just three years ago. We took them snorkeling. You were fine. At least you seemed okay.”

  “Oh, I was. Believe me, snorkeling is not diving. Big difference. With snorkeling you easily break the surface and tread water. But in my panic deep underwater, it felt like I had no control over anything, not even my breath.”

  Lark’s expression seemed thoughtful. “Nothing says you have to see those shipwrecks or experience an excursion with Jerrod. You simply say it’s not your thing. Or you could tell him what happened. Maybe he’d have ideas about getting past your fears.”

  Or, better yet, maybe she could sidestep the whole issue. “I’m a consultant, not his employee. I have nothing to do with the nuts and bolts.” She sat a little straighter in the chair. “Yeah, that’s right. Why am I even worrying about it?”

  “Good. That’s the spirit,” Lark agreed, matching Dawn’s tone.

  “Now that I’ve tabled that little problem, I suppose I should be on my way.” Dawn yawned and let her head fall back. “But it’s so comfortable here. I wish I didn’t have those phone meetings. I’d stretch out on this couch and take a nap.” She gave her thighs a light slap as she rose from the couch, feeling the shot of energy needed to keep her moving. “By the way,” she said, “I’m putting out some feelers for speaking gigs for Jerrod.”

  “You seem to be supplying the whole of Northeast Wisconsin with all the speakers we can handle,” Lark said.

  “I take him seriously. He’s so many things. Archeologist, environmentalist, historian and, of course, the big draw, international adventurer. I have a feeling he could make his mark here in Two Moon Bay—and the entire region—in any number of ways.”

  Lark cocked her head. “You’ve got my attention. Knowing you as I do, I’m eager to see what kind of a campaign you put together for him.” She opened her front door. “Do you want me to bring Gordon home after practice?”

  Dawn let her shoulders drop in relief. “That would be great.”

  “Better yet, he can go to Lou’s for pizza with Evan and me. Miles is in Boston for a couple of days, so Evan and I are on our own. You can meet us for dinner there when you’re done with your calls.”

  “Thanks so much. Now I don’t have to worry about fixing dinner.” She gave Lark a quick hug and hurried to her car.

  As she drove through town, Dawn’s thoughts turned to Lark and the enormous changes in her friend’s life. It made Dawn’s head spin to think Lark was reunited with Miles, the father of a baby girl they’d given up for adoption when they were college students. Eighteen years later, they’d discovered their daughter was the rising figure skating star Perrie Lynn Olson. Dawn still found it remarkable that in working together to learn about their daughter, Lark and Miles had fallen deeply in love. Perrie Lynn had even come to their wedding. It was a matter of addition, not subtraction, Lark had said about how their family formed. She had become stepmom to Miles’s nine-year-old daughter, Brooke, and Lark’s son, Evan, gained a stepdad.

  A miracle, Dawn thought, feeling the same surge of pleasure she always did when recalling Lark and Miles’s small but joyful wedding.

  Maybe it will happen for me one day, Dawn thought, pulling into her driveway. Maybe. Baby Zinnie had been on her mind, ever since she’d seen her happily snuggled in her daddy’s arms. Bill was a good dad, too. Dawn had never denied that fact, no matter how she’d claimed to hate him for what he’d done to their family. Did Jerrod know how lucky he was to have Carrie, a little sprite full of curiosity?

  What was she doing? She had no business asking questions like that.

  Chapter Four

  JERROD PREFERRED TO wait for Dawn to arrive, but Ian Shepherd showed up right on time at 10:00 a.m. Nothing laid-back about the photographer.

  Jerrod stood silent as he observed Ian examining the exterior of the two boats as they moved gently at the dock. He took a few shots that seemed random to Jerrod, but based on what he’d seen of Ian’s work on his website, he trusted the photographer had a sharp ey
e—and a plan. It was a good day for a photo shoot, starting with the calm waters. The scattered clouds in an otherwise blue sky provided a background more dramatic than a clear day.

  Ian wore an expression that went way beyond curious. Jerrod knew that look. He’d seen it plenty of times before when the sight of his dive boats sparked someone’s imagination. He’d bet Ian was hungry to experience at least a day trip, maybe some diving. No problem. The trial runs would begin soon.

  “From what Dawn told me,” Ian said, “we’ll get some shots today with the boats at the dock. Later, we’ll take more when you’re underway on the water. But she needs some visuals now to send to newspapers and feature writers.”

  Ian fixed his gaze on the Lucy Bee. Nodding toward her, he said, “I need a feel for what you’re selling. A sense of what the business is all about.”

  Jerrod shrugged. “That’s easy. I sell adventure. And while that tour boat looks tame to me, and maybe to you, everyone defines that a little differently.” That was his philosophy, anyway. For some, adventure was nothing more than a new experience—a short, safe jaunt on a tour boat. For others, his small company offered a chance to explore the mysteries of diving. “Divers are our most satisfied customers. Some people take to scuba like fish to water, and that’s not even a pun.”

  “I’ve always known there’s shipwreck diving going on up here,” Ian said pensively, “but I personally don’t know anyone who’s done it. It’s almost like a well-kept secret.”

  “Maybe I can change that,” Jerrod said. “As long as people are willing to suit up for cold water, there’s no reason not to enjoy it.” Jerrod was aware of several companies, but they offered less than he did. Fewer diving days and not as much structured training.

  Jerrod stared at the dock and kicked away stray clusters of gravel with the toe of his shoe. He was conscious of Ian waiting, not jumping in with a comment just to fill the silence. “My late wife liked to arrange dinner reservations as part of a two- or four-person package. She liked the idea of enhancing visitors’ vacations—she’d even make some calls to get a golf outing add-on and make it a two-day deal. Over the years, quite a few couples or groups took her up on it.” He stared at the ground again. “She was one of a kind, my wife.”