Page 29 of Diving In

Ian, you are absolutely NOT coming down here. I was pretty fucking clear during our last conversation… Our relationship is over, and it has been for a while now. I have nothing left to say to you at this point. I’m sorry you don’t feel the same, but the last thing I’d want you to do is come down here when I know for a fact I’m not going to change my mind.

I pressed send as soon as my fingers finished typing. I almost put my phone away, but then I saw text bubbles pop up on the screen.

Ian:

G, just give me a chance.

Me:

No, Ian. I’m done.

Laying my phone face down, I slumped down in my seat. As I laid there, stretched out on undoubtedly the most comfortable lounge chair ever, staring straight ahead into the abyss, all I could think about was Jack.

I imagined he’d probably sat in this same exact chair and looked at the beach from this exact point of view a thousand times. My mind began spiraling thinking about him. Was someone with him when he passed? Was he in pain? Did he regret how he left things with Mom and me? Did he think about coming after us?

My therapist once told me that taking care of other people healed the part of you that wished someone would’ve taken care of you. Sitting here now, I had to admit that woman was brilliant.

As I thought about him, I was hurting everywhere. I didn’t know if it was the six miles that I had biked earlier, but I ached from my head all the way down to my toes. I made my way back into the house and up to the room I was staying in. I didn’t think I could seriously saymyroom, even though it was clear that was Jack’s intention.

I dug through my purse until I identified the Tylenol bottle that I never traveled without. I tipped two white rectangular pills into my palm and snatched the water bottle from last night off the nightstand, swallowing both tablets at once. Looking down as I screwed the lid tightly back into place, the letter that I’d thrown on the floor glared up at me, almost burning a hole right through me.

Picking it up, I ran my finger along the indentions of the letter. It felt surreal. I didn’t know when Jack wrote these letters, but at some point, he was holding onto this exact piece of paper. He was writing thesefor me.Despite all the negative things about him, Jack had always had a big heart, but that piece of him was in a losing battle against all the damaging images that filtered my memories.

I kept reading and rereading the last sentence of the letter. “I know you blame me for your brother’s death, and to be honest, I still blame myself.”

There were so many things I wished I could say to Jack. I wished I could scream at him for taking Fletcher on that diving trip. I wished I could show him the pain Mom and I endured when he never came after us. Most importantly, I wished I could tell him that despite all the bullshit, I missed him. Like the soul-crushing type of missing someone that hurt so deeply you thought it was going to be the death of you.

I missed our talks, the ones that had always allowed me to open up more than I intended to. I missed the fact that we could walk the beach for hours, saying absolutely nothing to each other. I just missedJack, at least who he used to be when he was still my dad.

When I couldn’t look at the letter any longer, I placed it back on the table next to the picture of Jack and me. It was that moment when my eyes found his within the photo that I knew I was going to go through with his first request.

The first one.That was it.

As I worked on drafting up some sort of apology text in my head, I was surprised when I grabbed my phone and saw Cal’s name already displayed.

Cal:

I’m sorry about earlier. I know I’m probably the last person you want to hear from, but I was worried you’d be heading back to New York City before I could catch you. I just wanted to say that even if it was short, it was so good to finally to see you again. You were everything I remembered and more. I hope our paths eventually cross again.

Cal:

Jack and Fletcher would be so proud of the woman you’ve become. Keep that with you forever.

I threw a few things in my cross-body bag and headed off to the aquarium. It was funny how your memory picked up right where it’d left off, recovering important details without any guidance, no matter how much time had passed.

Before I knew it, I was strolling up to the glass aquarium doors. I tugged on them, but to my dismay, they were locked.

Puzzled, I double-checked the time, seeing that it was only 3:45 p.m. Based on the sign on the door, the aquarium was open daily from 9:00 a.m. – 6:00 p.m., aside from a few holidays.

I had been so flustered by Cal’s texts that I didn’t even think about calling before I showed up. I just assumed he’d be here, which is entirely unlike me. I had finally dredged up the nerve to attempt this little self-discovery journey of Jack’s, and now I couldn’t even get into the aquarium. This was what I got for not having a plan.

See, therewasa method behind my madness.

I tried his cell, and after several long rings, I got his voicemail. “It’s Cal. I’m probably doing something better than looking at my phone. If you need me, try all the normal spots. I’m sure I’ll turn up.”

I found myself smiling as I listened. I knew my feelings for him were ridiculous. Cal hardly fit the polished city-guy mold of someone I’d normally spend time with, but there was something about him that had undeniably drawn me in, both then and now.

With no answer and no way into the aquarium, I turned around with every intention of heading back to Jack’s house.

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