Page 1 of Diving In

CHAPTER 1

Inever understood what it was about diving that Jack couldn’t get enough of. To be honest, I always felt aggressively uneasy as soon as my feet hit the water. Whether it was the unknown of what lingered below or just how suddenly things could go wrong—and trust me, they could almost always go wrong—I just didn’t share that same undeniable passion for the ocean.

Don’t get me wrong, I’d always admired the beauty the ocean had to offer. The perfect shade of blue water, the waves roaring into the shore with more force than any Kansas windstorm, and the absolutely breathtaking view when the sun dropped effortlessly below the horizon… For those few moments when the sea and the sky became one, that was something I hoped everyone had the chance to see. Because you had to see it to really,fullygrasp it. To grasp how the vastness made you feel so small, so insignificant; how the colors of the sky and sea blended so perfectly into one, taking your breath away with one glance; and how experiencing those few moments made anyone who witnessed them believe in magic.

Yet, even with all its beauty, I preferred to admire it with both feet planted firmly on solid ground. At least that way I knew I was the one in control.

But then again, that was the problem, wasn’t it? My perpetual, bone-deepneedto be the one in control.

Jack, on the other hand… He lived for diving. The man would have spent his whole life underwater if he could. In the end, he loved it so much he let it obliterate everything else around him: his marriage, his family, and ultimately, his life.

“Jack’s gone,” my mom muttered, sounding anxious and a little bit defeated even through the phone.

The chit-chat just beyond my office was too loud. I extended my leg, the heel of my black pump just barely reaching the door as I used it to shove it closed.

Now that silence filled the room, I questioned if I’d heard her correctly. I pressed my cell phone closer, the screen feeling cool against my cheek.

When I didn’t respond, she hesitantly said, “Georgia…”

“What do you mean he’s gone?” I demanded, sitting up straight in my desk chair.

I felt the color draining from my face as I tried to focus on something—anything—that would allow the beating in my chest to revert to its normal pace. With my office located on the 17thfloor of a generic New York City skyscraper, the view below was my best bet. I hoped the chaos of the city would do the trick.

It had been years since I’d spoken to Jack or been to Sullivan’s Island—fourteen, to be exact—and when my mom started today’s phone call with this news, a wave of uncertainty quickly flooded my entire body. Not the calm, peaceful waves, no. More like the waves you see in the movies right before the hurricane hits land—powerful, strong, and entirely unpredictable.

The way people talked about regretting not making things right with someone in their life before it was too late… Yeah, I was that person at this very moment. A sudden sense of regret came flooding through my body, threatening to drown me right there in my office chair.

Thankfully, Mom filled the silence. “A young man from the island called, Callum or Calvin or—oh, I don’t remember, and that’s not the point anyway. He told me that your dad passed away this morning after losing his battle with cancer.” She was trying her best not to break down, but I could hear the grief in her voice with each word she managed to get out.

Jack was sick? And how the hell did Mom and I know nothing about it?

To be fair to Jack, communication between us was… Well, let’s just say Jack and I hadn’t been on the best of terms for the past fourteen years. And by “the best of terms,” I meant that despite his monthly attempts to reach me, I hadn’t spoken to him since last July when he’d called to wish me a happy birthday. Still, I was able to look back to a much simpler time and remember the days when my dad was my best friend, my everything, my whole world.

But still, regardless of the state of our relationship, I wished he would’ve at least notified one of us that he’d been sick, especially with something life-threatening. The waves of nausea panging against my stomach were almost enough to make me grab the plastic trash can that was sitting next to my desk.

“Cancer?” I asked, half hoping she would have more information but knowing damn well she wouldn’t.

“I don’t know, G. I had no idea Jack was even sick,” she said, the sorrow in her voice tugging at my heartstrings. She took an audible deep breath before she continued, “The young man on the phone didn’t give me many details. He just requested that one of us come down there,” she said reluctantly.

“Come down there?” I repeated.

The bleak white walls of my office started closing in on me, suffocating me. My office chair screeched as I scooted closer to the tiny window, desperate for the outside world to provide me with some sense of relief.

“He made it sound like there were some loose ends that Jack needed tied up,” she answered.

“What the fuck does that even mean?” I scoffed. “How many loose ends can one single man have? He ran an aquarium in a town with a population of less than 2,000 people. His only real business came during the two or three summer months. He had all but ruined his relationships with each and every family member…” I trailed off, inhaling a deep breath and trying to calm down. I knew there was another way to look at this, but I was struggling to find a fresh perspective while swimming in a mixture of grief and anger.

“I’m sorry, Mom. The bottom line is that we don’t have to go anywhere,” I responded.

Her voice was soft and sympathetic as she started, “I know, G. I really do, but—”

“We owe Jack absolutely fucking nothing. Maybe he should’ve thought about who was going to handle his business before he let his daughter and wife walk out of his life fourteen years ago.” The words felt insensitive as soon as they left my mouth and I instantly regretted them, the silence on the other end of the phone deafening in their aftermath.

I tried not to dwell on what my mom must have felt when she received that phone call, but I imagined it was a version of heartbreak. Even though they’d been divorced for years, a small piece of me knew that they both still loved each other, and I think that made their love story just a little more tragic.

Feeling guilty about the words that had left my mouth, I quickly filled the silence. “Ugh. Listen, I’m sorryagain, Mom. I didn’t mean… I just bet everything could be figured out through email or over the phone.”

“For the most part, yes…” she started. “Everything besides goodbye.”

---