A CRY FROM THE DEEP Read online

  “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.

  “You’re deep in thought.” Daniel’s warm hazel eyes were inquiring.

  “Was it that obvious?” She sighed. “I’m going through culture shock. The city seems more intense than what I remember.”

  “You must miss Provence.”

  “This time of year, the fields are turning green almost overnight. And the air is so fresh, it’s almost magical.”

  “One of these days, I’ll get over there.” He looked straight ahead as they passed a semi on the right.

  She pulled the visor down to block the sun. “I think what I miss most is the quiet. It’s only broken by birds singing, and when they do, it’s like they’re serenading you.”

  “Sounds peaceful. Like the ocean.”

  “Yeah. Quiet like that.”

  They drove without talking for a few minutes and then Daniel said, “Frank told me a little about your background, and from what he’s said, we’re not too far apart in our philosophies, when it comes to diving.”

  “Checking up on me, huh?”

  He laughed. “And you didn’t do the same?” His eyes sparkled as if they’d shared a secret.

  “Busted,” she said, smiling. “I did look you up.” She closed her eyes, allowing her mind to drift for a few minutes. She wondered what his fiancée was like, as he was quite the catch. She also wondered if he was happy with her. Opening her eyes, she read the Pennsylvania Welcomes You sign on I-78 West.

  She cleared her throat. “Thanks again for doing this. Frank told me you had to bow out of a meeting at the museum in order to accommodate me. I didn’t expect you to disrupt your schedule.”

  “Don’t worry about it. The chair of the group said she’d fill me in later.”

  “Well, it’s very sweet of you.” Sweet. That sounded inane, something someone less confident might say. She’d need to find her footing if she was going to hold her own with Daniel and Hennesey. She’d been in situations before where she’d given up control to men on her team, and during one of those times, she’d almost lost her life. Maybe if she’d had the courage to insist on another safety check, she wouldn’t have had the accident or left her career. Maybe her marriage would still be intact. Those were the things she hated: all those regrets, all those maybes.

  ~~~

  The former limestone quarry had been converted into one of the largest fresh-water scuba diving facilities in the country. With twenty to thirty feet of visibility—and an abundance of fish and sunken attractions, like replica airplanes, a fire truck, a school bus, and even a pier—Dutch Springs was an ideal place for Catherine to test her nerves and her gear. It was one thing to play around the pool, in ten feet of water; it was another to dive so deep she could get disoriented and lose her way back.

  The artificial dive site wasn’t crowded, despite the clear skies and warm temperature. That was a bonus. Catherine didn’t have to worry about dodging a bunch of novice divers while she struggled to regain her form. But that worry was minor compared to how much her nerves were affected when she put on her scuba gear and faced the lake. She stood on the beach vacillating, unable to go any further. Even a family frolicking in the water nearby did nothing to ease her mind.

  Daniel must have sensed her turmoil, because he came over and patted her on the shoulder. “Ready?”

  She couldn’t help but knit her brow.

  “You’ll be fine. Let’s check the seals on your suit first.”

  She’d bought a new dry suit, one she’d use for her assignment. It was the latest in dry-core technology and loose enough for more layers underneath to wa
rd off the cold. She wouldn’t need that assurance now, but in the north Atlantic, it could keep her from getting hypothermia.

  “You want to make sure it’s tight enough at the neck and wrists and ankles to keep out the water but not too tight for circulation.”

  “Daniel,” she snapped. “I’m not a beginner. I’ve worn dry suits before.”

  “Hey!” His nose wrinkled as if he was the injured party. “You did say you wanted a review.”

  She was immediately sorry. “You’re right. I’m just jumpy.”

  “Fair enough.”

  She fastened her camera and checked her buoyancy control device and rebreather. Daniel walked backward into the water with his flippers. She followed him slowly. The cool water lapped against her legs, and when it embraced her chest, she took long, slow breaths, the kind she’d learned in yoga. She fought the instinct to turn back, and told herself to just take a deep breath, in and out, in and out. It was working. In and out. In and out. When she turned to face the deeper waters, she gave Daniel a thumbs up, and dove.

  Although her heart pounded as if it was about to burst, she swam behind Daniel towards a suspended helicopter fifty feet deep. The aircraft was open along its sides, allowing her to dive into its belly and see how well she could glide through a tight space. It was a test for claustrophobia. Would her fright win out? Would the time she almost died come flooding back? She could feel herself starting to panic, so she took a few deep breaths before following him through the hole. As she did, she kept reciting, just focus on my breathing, as if it was a mantra that would carry her onward, no matter what. She kept telling herself she was a competent scuba diver in a family park and that if anything went seriously wrong, there was help available. She checked her pressure gauge to reassure herself. She knew she had to ration her air—one-third for the descent, one-third for the exploration, and one-third for the ascent. At the moment, she had more than enough left to complete her dive. Her self-talk kept her going and she could feel her heart rate return to normal.