Page 13 of Diving In

“To be honest, our relationship was an obligation at most, primarily revolving around holiday and birthday phone calls of stinted conversation and looming awkwardness,” I blurted out.

Awkward about how much information had slipped out, I shifted my weight to my other foot and wrapped my arms around my body.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to unload that after being here for all of five seconds,” I said, trying for a small laugh.

“I’m okay with it.” He smiled, then added, “But I am sorry, Georgia,” he said, reaching out to me.

I practically jumped at the feeling of his fingertips dancing on my skin. We stared at each other, but neither of us said anything. Instead, we kept our eyes locked while his fingers lightly grazed my arm, offering comfort.

“I don’t know much about your and Jack’s relationship, but what I do know is that Jack was constantly worrying about making sure all of his ducks were in a row before he passed,” he stated, pulling his hand away.

The cold air that caressed my arm as soon as his warm fingers were gone made me unsteady, and I wanted to grab his hand and put it back where it was. I was never one to crave physical touch, but his felt different, safe. And while that sinking feeling of being the last to know everything felt really fucking awful, the way Cal had gently shared this with me felt a little less overwhelming.

“Count on Jack to rev up the dramatics even after he’s gone,” I said sarcastically, the wordgoneseeming a little too permanent even for me.

“He always did have an eye for it, didn’t he,” Cal joked, making it obvious he knew Jack well.

I was grateful Cal had lightened the mood a bit, if only for a few minutes, but the feeling of unease was ever-present in the pit of my belly.

As we stood there, both positioning our bodies to the front of the large aquarium tank, silence took over. As much as I valued the quiet on a personal level, it wasn’t something I was accustomed to. That was the thing about New York City… It was always so loud that you were forced to focus on the commotion around you, forgetting about whatever was going on inside your head. As someone who struggled to deal with things, I had gotten really good at pretending they didn’t exist. New York City was the best place to enable that bad habit, and it was one of the things I appreciated most about it.

Here and now, standing in the silence, I couldn’t ignore my intrusive thoughts.

Why didn’t Jack tell us he was sick? Was anyone with him when he died? Did Cal just say he was glad it was me who came back to the island? How much time does it take to clean this tank?

“Let me grab you the address,” Cal said, breaking my trance as he turned around and walked toward the front desk.

My gut reaction was to be upset about his insinuation that I didn’t know the address. Attempting to tamp down my anger, I used a bit of sass. “You seem to remember quite a lot, so I’m assuming you’re familiar with the fact that I lived on this island for nine years of my life. I think I’d remember the address to my childhood home.”

He grinned at me, and the smile on his face told me he was about to say something I might not like. “Things change, Georgia James. That’s what happens when you’re out there chasing your big-city dreams.” He winked before looking down again to refocus on the mess of shit lying in front of him.

I reeled backward at his use of Georgia James, surprised that I actually liked it but having no understanding as to why.

In a predicament of trying to stay unbothered but also coming to terms with the fact that I knew absolutely nothing about Jack, I replied, “Oh yeah, like what?”

“Well… for starters, Jack moved after he acquired the aquarium from the previous owner. His new house is right on the water. It’s probably the most beautiful house on the entire island,” he told me.

I stood, bewildered, almost to the point of actual laughter at the idea that Jack owned “the most beautiful house on the entire island.” My family did just fine when I was growing up, sure. Our perfect beach cottage definitely could’ve used a little TLC, but there was no lack of character in that house. The best part was that it was tucked away from the rest of the island—secretive, secluded, and downright picturesque.

Fletcher and I never wanted for anything because Mom and Jack always made sure we had everything we needed. Life was good for us. But still, I can promise you, there weren’t people dreaming about living the Windsor lifestyle, and we sure as hell didn’t have the most beautiful house here.

“Here you go. Jack had everything ready in hopes that you would show up after…” Cal paused. “Let’s just say he hoped you’d come.” Cal handed me a stack of folded papers with a yellow sticky note stuck on top.

My eyes flashed to the slanted chicken scratch. It would be unreadable to most, but I’d recognize it anywhere. It was Jack’s.

2789 Marshall Boulevard.

I recognized that street immediately, and I was sure there was some mistake. Marshall Boulevard was where all the summer vacationers lived. And by lived, I meant resided for the summer months before returning to their actual homes. The locals had always shaded the street.

They don’t know what it’s really like to be from Sullivan’s Island.Jack’s voice echoed between my ears like it was yesterday.

“Thanks,” I replied halfheartedly, hiding my confusion while ignoring his gaze as I took the paper from his hands. I was toying with the idea of apologizing for my less than polite behavior earlier, but I wasn’t able to muster up enough courage to do it.

My obnoxiously oversized purse draped over my shoulder as I reached in to grab my phone and stuff the papers from Jack inside, rapidly turning my back to Cal.

I’d been strong, even okay,until I saw Jack’s handwriting.

I’d always been an emotional person, sometimes to a fault, and I’d never been good at masking what I was feeling. I was either completely closed off or overflowing with them, I didn’t know how to be anything in between. Hence why I’d opted to stay reserved, deeming it easier than having to answer to anyone or deal with the overwhelming sense of anxiety that sometimes took over.

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