A CRY FROM THE DEEP (8 page)

Daniel wondered why it was taking her so long. Was there something to be concerned about or was this all a part of her act? His frustration mounted when a few more guests crowded around. Whatever she had to say, he wished it could be done in private. He didn’t want his fortune, fake or not, relayed throughout the party.

“You will be taking a long journey.”

“Could be. I’ve been thinking of one.” So far, so good. Nothing unusual there. Pretty predictable, in fact. Who doesn’t go on long trips?

“I see lots of water.”

He turned to Brian and smiled. “Sean must have told her I was a nautical archaeologist.”

Brian chuckled. “Right.”

The psychic showed no emotion, seemingly unruffled by Daniel’s skepticism. “It will be a spiritual journey. One that will change the course of your life. There is also a great love waiting for you. Someone searching for you. She has been for a long time.”

“He’s engaged,” said Marjorie. “I think she’s found him.”

The fortune-teller narrowed her eyes and then closed them. “It is not her.”

Marjorie wrinkled her brow. “Better not tell Sean that.”

“Tell me what?” asked Sean, as she joined the growing crowd.

Daniel rose from the chair. “That was interesting. Profound.”

“Meester, I’m not finished.”

“It’s okay. I am.” He grabbed Sean’s arm and pulled her away.

The psychic motioned him back. “There is more,” she said loudly.

“You don’t want to know the rest?” called Marjorie after him.

Eyeing the onlookers, Daniel said to Marjorie, “They’re anxious to learn their destiny.” He winked at her. “You don’t want to keep them waiting. It’s not good for the cause.”

“At least you tried, buddy,” said Brian with a grin.

As Sean and Daniel walked off, she looked back at the fortune-teller. “What wasn’t I supposed to know?”

“Nothing. It was a silly reading.”

“Daniel, please tell me. Those people have some kind of gift.”

“Yeah, the gift of sucking in gullible people.” He put his arm around her shoulders. “Are you finished in the kissing booth?”

“Yes, my lips are bruised.” She licked her lips in emphasis.

“Ah, but you did good,” he said, barely looking at her. They reached the manor’s grand patio with a view of the grounds and the ocean. There were people everywhere—some playing croquet, others throwing horseshoes, and a large number at the bar in one of the white tents. He’d had enough. He wasn’t interested in small talk, especially with this crowd. If they weren’t bragging about their latest vacation, or how much they’d made on their newest venture, they were talking politics, and that meant the Grand Old Party. Brian was one person he could talk to, but at the moment, Daniel was annoyed with him for bringing up that whole Catholic business. He hated being reminded of the church, which he regarded as a brainwashing institution.

He turned to Sean. “Listen, I should go.”

She looked disappointed. “I thought you were staying overnight.”

“Sorry. I have to be up early to help someone get their nerve back in the water. You don’t mind if I leave, do you? This is more your kind of party, anyway.” He couldn’t tell her the person he was going to help was a beautiful woman, someone he wouldn’t mind getting to know a little better.

“Did you get a chance to talk to Mom and Dad?”

“No. They were with some of their friends, and I didn’t want to interrupt.”

Sean sighed and kissed him lightly on the lips. “Give me a call later.”

As he drove through the gates, he felt a pang of guilt for having lied. The truth was he hadn’t even tried to talk with her parents, as he didn’t much care for them. Harold and Maude Billings were old money and their Georgian home—where this fund-raiser was taking place— sat on some of the finest twenty-five acres on the Atlantic shore. Maude’s ancestors had come to America on the Mayflower and had made their money in the fur trade. Harold’s family tree went back even further to some English duke from the thirteenth century, a royal connection that was frequently touted. It was this latter part that bugged Daniel. Daniel’s blue-collar father would’ve said,
What are they putting on airs for? Their shit smells the same as yours and mine.
He had to smile at that. His dad had colorful ways of setting the record straight. Though Daniel agreed with his father, he also appreciated the doors that wealth opened. Since he’d hooked up with Sean, he’d had access to the finest country clubs, played golf on the best courses, and eaten in gourmet restaurants. Around money, it was hard to keep track of what was important in life.

SEVEN

Catherine woke up in a sweat, clutching the sheets as if her life depended upon them. Another nightmare. Relieved to find she’d been dreaming, she stretched her arms and considered what might have sparked another bad night. The old man was there as before, but who was he? This time, she’d been scuba diving.

She stared at the ceiling and tried to remember more of her dream. She hadn’t been able to see out of her mask. And when she tried to wipe the lens with her hand, a grey wall of water crashed down, throwing her body against the ship’s hull. She tried to call for help, but no sound came. The old man extended his hand, but he kept disappearing in a bubble. A huge bubble. When she looked again, he was far away, a speck of a man. It was then that the water—like a rushing river—poured into her throat. And just as she was about to take her last breath, she awoke, gasping. 

Daylight peeked through the window’s roller shades, lighting up patches of flowered wallpaper. Richard had kept it the way she’d decorated it. It made her feel as if she was the one who had gotten their marriage all wrong.

She looked at the clock on the bedside table. It was well after eight. The apartment was so quiet that for a moment she wondered where Richard and Alex could be, but then she remembered. They were still out at Sybil’s country home and wouldn’t be back for another day. She got out of bed and padded down the hallway to the bathroom.

Her face in the bathroom mirror showed nothing of the horror of her night. How did the mind work like that, taking her to another time, one she didn’t recognize? She splashed cold water on her face and told herself it was nothing but anxiety getting in her way. And for good reason. She was meeting Daniel in a few hours at Asphalt Green Aqua Center, located on Manhattan’s Upper East Side. He’d suggested the Olympic-sized swimming pool as a gentle way for her to ease back into diving. The way she was feeling, she hoped he was right.

Over breakfast, she booted up her laptop and Googled
Daniel Costello
. She was usually good at remembering people, but his face and name hadn’t rung any bells. Nothing she found explained why she was attracted to him. However, what she did find both surprised and disappointed her. He was engaged to a socialite from a prominent Hamptons family. Well, she thought, disappointed or not, that would make things simpler. She couldn’t afford any romantic complications, not when she was getting back into a dangerous field where there was no room for error.

She went back into the bedroom and pulled on her jeans and T-shirt. What she needed was one successful dive in the deep to calm her jitters. Maybe then she’d sleep better and the old man—whoever he was—would leave her alone. 

~~~

As she watched Daniel walk towards her on the deck, she couldn’t help but admire his swimmer’s build—a broad chest, narrow hips and strong muscular legs. She imagined what it would be like to lie down beside him, their bodies touching, glistening with sweat, hungry for that orgasmic release. She stroked the hollow of her throat to subdue her lust. Sure, she pleasured herself, but what was that? Not like being with a man who caressed her and claimed her with a passion she could only dream of.

Daniel put his diving gear down on the bench beside her. He smiled and his eyes traveled over her wet suit. “Looks good.”

“Thanks.” She was glad she’d stayed fit and trim. Her suit showed off her figure well.

He handed her a high-end regulator. “I brought you one of my spares to try out. No point buying one yet.”

When he helped her put on her buoyancy compression vest, their hands touched briefly. Involuntarily, she trembled.

“Are you cold?” he asked.

“No. Just stage fright.”
Damn it
, she thought. She was acting like a schoolgirl.

“You’ll be fine. Once a diver, always a diver.”

Forcing herself to concentrate, she secured her mask and adjusted her fins. This first leg in a city pool wouldn’t be difficult, but the idea of where this was heading made her apprehensive. The deep end of a swimming pool was a far cry from the dark depths of the ocean, where anything could go wrong.

As if he’d read her mind, he said, “Don’t think ahead. It’ll mess you up.”

He positioned himself at the edge of the pool and went into the water before her. When she finally jumped in, she was surprised to find her fears quickly replaced by relief. She’d always been a strong swimmer, and her arms and legs responded as if nothing had ever happened to dampen her enthusiasm for the sport. It was odd, but then again, it was a swimming pool, not the sea with an inky bottom. It helped that Daniel stayed within close range. And then, to ease her mind even further, they practiced universal hand signals, shorthand signs of communication that could save both their lives.

Back on deck, Daniel said, “Like I said, once a diver, always a diver.”

She smiled. “Don’t compliment me too soon. There’s still the open water.”

“You know you did well today. We don’t need to do any more confined water dives. I think you’re more than ready for the next step.”

She should’ve been pleased, but it was all happening too fast. Like being on a roller coaster, once on, it was hard to get off even if you wanted to. An email she’d received earlier that day had unnerved her. The diving newsletter—she subscribed to—had reported a couple of tragic deaths. Two brothers had gotten lost in a wreck. They’d run out of air trying to find their way out. The rescue divers found them trapped in a chamber with their gear caught on some rusted iron.

Was that what she wanted for Alex—a mother who’d gone too far and couldn’t find her way out? It’d be irresponsible for her to risk her life, but wasn’t that what she was doing by taking the assignment? But if she didn’t, she’d always wonder what she would have missed. Frank was right; she had to face her fears. Alex needed a mother who was strong and confident.

In the locker room, she put on the Claddagh ring she’d left in her jeans pocket. She looked at the two hands holding the heart and wondered if the woman who’d worn this ring had found happiness. Not that Catherine was unhappy. But one day, Alex would leave and then what? The thought of not having anyone to talk to at the end of a day caused a lump to rise in her throat.

But would that be so bad? There were more singles now than ever, and from everything she’d read, most were having a good time. Why even Oprah, the richest woman in the world, had chosen to ride out her days alone.

~~~

The following morning, Daniel picked Catherine up in his Toyota Prius for the two-hour drive to Dutch Springs, a man-made dive site in Pennsylvania. She was hardly in the car when he leaned across her to get his sunglasses out of the glove compartment. His subtle lime aftershave aroused her, causing her to squirm in her seat. Hoping to suppress any erotic thoughts, she gazed out the side window. She wondered if he had any similar feelings. Thinking about how he’d kiss her on the neck and fondle her breasts, she squirmed again. She almost laughed out loud at her body’s reaction. Obviously, she’d been on her own too long. Thankfully, her wild imaginings were unexpectedly calmed when Daniel dialed the radio to a FM station playing Beethoven’s wind Quintet in E-flat Major.

With Beethoven’s composition a soothing counterpoint to the traffic bustling by, she thought once more about the serenity of her farm, and how quickly the tempo of her life had changed. It was as if she was being tugged along by invisible strings. How much of what was happening was free will and how much was pre-destined? At times like this, Catherine lamented straying from the church. She surmised that people with strong faith were less confused. They accepted whatever happened as part of God’s plan.

After more thought, she surmised she was muddled for a number of reasons—the whole business of diving again and being back in a city where so much had gone wrong. Maybe staying at Richard’s wasn’t such a good idea. He’d been so welcoming. So welcoming in fact, she began to wonder if she’d made a mistake leaving him in the first place.

Maybe it’d be better if she and Alex stayed at Lindsey’s place. Her best friend had a two- bedroom loft in Soho and was more than willing to put them up. When it came time for Catherine to fly to Ireland, Alex could stay with her father or grandmother. But if they moved to Lindsey’s now, how fair would that to be Alex? Lindsey’s apartment was a bit of a commute from Richard’s, which could be a problem, given everyone’s commitments. And then, there was the other problem. Lindsey’s musician boyfriend also stayed there, and who knew what kind of friends he had over. Catherine couldn’t count on that being a healthy environment for a child. Of course, Catherine could go herself and leave Alex with Richard, but with the Irish trip looming, it wasn’t an appealing option. She’d be leaving her daughter soon enough.