Turtle Soup Page 11

  "That explains a lot about Jack. He must have felt responsible."

  "We all did, but him especially. He carries the weight of the world."

  "But it was an accident."

  "A preventable one. The hardest part for him was dealing with not being able to say goodbye."

  "Guffin," Sara asked carefully, "what happened in Australia?"

  He blinked and looked as if he suddenly felt like a gossip. "You know how it is," he said. "Things don't feel right, you need space to think it over."

  "She broke it off?"

  "Jack thought he'd wait it out and she'd change her mind."

  "Maybe they were too much alike."

  Guffin made a motion to help her out of the pool. "Bow to stern."

  ****

  Sara wrapped her mind around Guffin's story and took it home with her to bed. She couldn't imagine what it would have been like to be with her parents the day they died. It was no fault of their own, just an accident, but hundreds of times she had tortured herself with the what-if's; if her father had kept a tool under the seat for breaking glass, if the car hadn't had automatic windows, if he had been paying more attention, if the construction workers had put up a better barricade...but that was shifting blame when there wasn't any.

  Her parents wanted her to be successful and enjoy life. Just because they couldn't be there with her wasn't a reason to do that. A tear worked its way out of the corner of her eye and melted into the pillow. They wouldn't want her to be afraid of water, or afraid to live.

  Sara sighed and rolled onto her back. Her heart told her it was right for Turtle Soup to become a soup kitchen. It was a noble cause. She didn't need to be a celebrated chef to feel complete. What completed her was love. She'd always been loved and this way she could give it back.

  Jack and his insecurities made so much sense now. If Jessica was the kind of woman he always found himself with, it was no wonder he had a cynical view of the world. It couldn't be easy selling yourself to fund a cause you believed in; or feeling like you had to.

  The Brandon Foundation had made incredible progress in educating the world. The plight of sea turtles and coral reefs were on the top of environmental concerns. Maybe Jack was so involved with causes and fundraising he'd forgotten there were people who cared about each other, not just themselves.

  The temptation to pick up the phone settled in her mind. She should call and apologize for not confiding about Turtle Soup. She hadn't wanted to admit the store wasn't going to make it. She couldn't bear failure in his eyes. A man like him would never have given up, not if he had to sell doughnuts on the sidewalk.

  That thought left a smile on her face in the dark. She did need his help after all, she realized, but not with the deli. There was something about having him beside her in the water that made her feel brave.

  When sunlight shot golden arrows through the window's blinds at dawn, Sara dragged herself out of bed and into the shower. After she put in a few hours at the deli, she would close up early and go see Jack. It was time they settled things once and for all.

  Only three customers came in before lunch, so after the noon whistle she began shutting down. She left out a bag of cookies and a sandwich for Polk and put a flyer in the window announcing future changes. Ellen called and she told her she'd be home early so there'd be no reason for Carly to drop by.

  It was late in the afternoon before a woman in the aquarium ticket window picked up the phone in annoyance and made the call. Sara shuffled her feet and stood aside for the next family in line. After several long minutes, the lady stuck her head out.

  "He's not in," she said.

  Sara blinked. "Is he sick?"

  The attendant shook her head. "Out of town," she mumbled then turned to help the next customer. Sara pressed forward. "Are you sure?" The lady pressed her lips together and avoided eye contact.

  Sara pulled her phone from her purse. If she called the office she could talk to Trudy and she'd be honest with her. Trudy picked up immediately.

  "Is Jack in? This is Sara Hart."

  "Hello, Sara Hart." Trudy's southern honey made her feel as warm as ever. "Jack left town. He's gone home."

  "Home?" For a moment, Sara struggled to accept that home for Jack was another place far away.

  "He's been out of sorts all week. Missing the meeting last Friday was the last straw."

  "Meeting?"

  "He had a proposal," Trudy explained. "We were going to move our exhibit to the new space."

  "That's right." Sara remembered Conner telling her about it. "Why did he miss it?"

  "I guess something more important came up, though I can't imagine what. He decided to leave early."

  The information stung. He had met Mr. Dobb's and brought him over to Turtle Soup. "I hope it wasn't because of me."

  "He's been homesick, sweetheart. We're worried about him."

  Guilt pinched Sara in the chest. "Maybe home is what he needed."

  "Going home doesn't always make things better, especially if there's no one there waiting for you."

  "He has friends there."

  "Employees, but no family. His parents are gone."

  "What about aunts and uncles?" Sara insisted.

  "That's true," Trudy conceded, "but no one to really watch over him to make sure he eats."

  A dead silence fell between them as Sara pondered Trudy's reflections. She seemed to be hinting at something impossible. "Sara," she declared at last, "he needs you."

  ****

  "What are you going to do with your two weeks off?" Ellen spooned salsa over her scrambled eggs and waited for Sara to offer up something reasonable.

  "I'm not sure. I have the strangest temptation to take a Caribbean holiday."

  "Really?" Ellen widened her eyes over her mug. "What about the certification dive?"

  Sara shook her head. "It's no good. I'm not ready, Ellen. Just a little more practice, some experience, and then I know I can."

  "Would you like some help?"

  "Yes, that's why I'm thinking about heading to the islands."

  "To Jack?"

  Sara had told Ellen and Carly everything the night before about the kiss, the planner, and Roy Dobbs. Then the tears had followed in a deluge. She felt like her heart would explode if she didn't see him again. To think that he had taken off without a word crushed her.

  "He's the only thing that makes me feel safe under the water. I won't be afraid with him beside me."

  "I'm sure he'd be flattered."

  "Not if I don't tell him."

  "Did you try his cell?"

  "Not yet. He didn't call me back last night and he hasn't called this morning. I don't want to bug him."

  "I'm proud of you," her sister smiled. "You haven't just forgiven him, you're taking the initiative."

  Sara rolled her eyes. "I can't stand the thought that he's angry with me. And I know he'd help if I asked him to."

  "So you're going to skip down to the islands and have a little talk?"

  "Something like that. The deli's closed for now."

  Carly plopped down in a chair. Ellen mulled a few minutes more before saying, "I think you're in love."

  "Me?" Carly looked at her mother then back at her aunt. "Or her?" She pointed to Sara, whose face went red. There was no denying anymore.

  "Your aunt is going to chase Jack Brandon to the Caribbean."

  "I want to go!" Carly's excitement was uncontainable. She began to bounce up and down in the chair.

  "You really shouldn't go alone," Ellen admonished, "and I could help you pay for it."

  "Is that why you got quiet? I thought you were going to try to talk me out of it."

  Ellen looked past her out the window into a void of memory no one else was privy to. "He gave up promoting his work to help you with yours."

  "And it didn't end well."

  "Maybe you should have been more open with him."

  "I didn't want him to feel sorry for me."

  "You're a prideful thi
ng, Sara."

  "There were things he could have told me, too. I told him about mom and dad. He could have mentioned he'd lost the love of his life the same way."

  "Who said she was the love of his life?"

  Sara held her palms out. "He loved her."

  "It must have been terrible." Ellen got up to take her dishes to the sink. "I'm not surprised he was hurt you didn't want his help."

  "He wasn't hurt, he was furious."

  "I would think by now you would have him figured out."

  Sara almost asked what she meant but instead nodded slowly as the truth dawned on her. "You're right. For a man like him, it's one and the same."

  Carly shoved an entire slice of bacon into her mouth before she interjected, "He probably has a new name for you in his little book." She looked slyly across the table. "We better head down there and find out what."

  Chapter Eighteen

  Home was a welcome sight. Gone were the skyscraping towers, the smog, the insane hurry of people living too fast. Within hours, Jack had dropped his bags off at the house and headed to the marina. Conner and Scott were waiting for him aboard Calliope. He jumped over the bow and threw himself at Conner, thumping him on the back with his fist.

  "What took you so long?"

  "I'm here and ready. Let's get out of here." While Scott pulled the satellite printouts for him, Jack and Conner went to the wheel.

  "Didn't think you'd make it until tomorrow."

  "I pulled out early."

  "You going to tell me how it went?"

  "The meeting?"

  "Yes, the meeting. We in, or not?"

  Jack wiped an invisible smudge on the glass. "I didn't make it."

  "It doesn't matter, right? We already decided that. We have a good space. It's not a big deal."

  "It was a big deal." Jack's careless tone underhanded his protest. "We might have gotten it, but I doubt it. Jessica's on the warpath since I broke it off."

  "Too bad you couldn't put that off a couple weeks."

  "It wouldn't have mattered. I didn't make the meeting is what I meant."

  "You didn't go?"

  "Something came up."

  "What, the plague?"

  "Sara."

  "She okay?"

  "She's closing Turtle Soup."

  Disappointment washed over Conner's face. "Why?"

  "She's not quitting exactly," Jack explained, "but she's giving it up. She couldn't turn a profit so they're shutting her down."

  "What's she going to do?"

  "Turn it into some kind of soup kitchen."

  "Maybe we can help her out."

  Jack blew out a disgusted noise. "Serve cookies to the homeless?"

  "Why not, at least we might get fed. You seen what's in the galley?"

  "I don't want to know."

  "If I have to open another can of sardines I'm going to shrivel up and die."

  "Start shriveling, all I brought was crackers."

  Calliope's crew took her out to Turtle Cove where she billowed prettily on the water. The calm current was just what they needed to explore the reef and survey the inhabitants. Sebastian was nowhere to be seen; his radio signal had not picked up. Jack came across a young leatherback and snapped a shot of him scurrying away.

  Despite the ominous sweep of death reported across the Caribbean, their reefs were holding strong. Many others were dying, turning skeletal white as sea temperatures climbed. Turtle Cove was still healthy. It gave Jack hope, something he hadn't had in a long time.

  They dried off in the sun and Scott beached himself on the deck like a young seal. "You better get in shape, college boy, if you want to keep up with the pros."

  "You mean the old men?"

  Jack pointed at him. "You just wait." He rummaged through the galley for something to eat and turned up some expired peaches. Conner made a face. "Food poisoning."

  "Good," Jack mumbled, "send my remains to Georgia."

  "She got to you."

  Jack squinted. Was he so transparent? "I tried."

  "You tried what?"

  "I left the meeting early to take a food critic from the Constitution to see her."

  "You skipped out?"

  "She hadn't told me she was throwing the towel in."

  Conner eyed Jack hesitatingly as if unsure of the wisdom of his choice. "I guess you had to follow your gut on that one."

  "I would have helped her out if she would have asked."

  "With money?" Conner shook his head. "You don't know her well enough to be handing out money."

  "I know her."

  "She's not the type to take a handout."

  Jack dropped his spoon into the bottom of the can. "That's because she's too busy doing the handing out."

  "And that's a bad thing?" Conner stood up and stretched. He reached for his shorty, drying in the sun. "Jack, you're guilty of the same thing. You're not the most humble guy in the world."

  "I don't have to be humble, I'm Jack Brandon."

  "And you're alone."

  "I don't see a girl hanging off your shoulders."

  Conner smirked. His dive into the water put a finish to the conversation.

  ****

  It was the end of the week before they picked up Sebastian's faint signal. He'd abandoned Turtle Cove for a small cay further west. Jack photographed the reef while Conner and Scott took measurements. There was a healthy population of anemone and damselfish, and Scott catalogued several gobies.

  To Jack's surprise, Sebastian had discovered a healthy community thirty feet beneath the surface. How long he decided to tarry would be a mystery worth watching. June through September was mating time. Would Sebastian be urged to return to the beach where he was once hatched, or would he make his way back to Turtle Cove?

  The trio of divers surfaced for forty-five minutes. Sebastian was in the area but they couldn't locate him. Jack transferred a memory stick to his laptop and reloaded. He checked everyone's tanks and when satisfied with his safety check, hit the water first. He descended slowly, his camera ready, eyeing a gang of barracuda checking out the neighborhood. They weren't big boys but they were good-sized and like all barracuda, intensely interested in what the divers were about.

  Jacks drifted with the current fifty yards before turning back. He heard a bell jangle and looked for his buddies. Conner was up current pointing east of the reef. Scott had swum to the anchor line and was starting his ascent. Conner motioned again and Jack swam over to join him but not before seeing what had caught his attention.

  Hovering over a rocky alcove like the Death Star, a graceful mane of tawny and white stripes cast a shadow over the small inhabitants. The lionfish was a big specimen, at least twelve inches. He must have been new to the reef, probably fresh arrived after picking clean a previous one. Conner made the sign to spear it and with slow reluctance, Jack nodded.

  In that moment, he had to admit to himself that conservation didn't always mean everyone got a free pass. He couldn't bear to kill something he wasn't going to eat or study, but this one life could cost hundreds along the patch of coral. He nodded more resolutely at Conner who appeared to have already made up his mind. They surfaced together but Jack stayed aboard while a spear gun went down. They'd spear the lionfish and send the remains to REEF with a report. Hopefully, there hadn't been any breeding in the area.

  "I hear they taste like tilapia," Conner mused as the lionfish rolled back and forth in the stainless steel sink.

  "If you want to cut those spines off you're welcome to eat him."

  "I'd rather had tilapia."

  "We'll never be able to stop them," Jack said. He moved over to the sink and picked up the plastic bag with the deadly beauty in it.

  "I look at it this way," Conner argued. "If man can threaten thousands of species every day, we can control the lionfish population. We're just going to have to take it one reef at a time."

  Jack felt tired. He went afore to be alone and watch the sun nest over the horizon. Sunset was always a pe
rfect event, whether the day had been good or bad. He sighed, the peacefulness of it comforting him like soup, until he had to push Sara from his mind. The Caribbean had a much better view of heaven, he told himself, and the water in Sebastian's world was a minute bit safer with one less lionfish.

  Sara didn't need him, and obviously she didn't want him. He had tried over and over to make her see he cared. Perhaps he shouldn't have run, but he had. That's what sailors did when life caught up with them. They went to sea. Holly died and he went to work. Work got to be too much and he went to the office. The office got to be too much and he had come home. But it didn't feel quite like home because no one was waiting, except for Sebastian and an influx of unwelcome residents to the Atlantic.

  ****

  Jack watched the excess rigging slide through his calloused hands as he coiled it onto the dock. There wasn't much that could take the skin off his palms anymore. They were layered with scars.

  He signaled to Conner to cut the engine. The boat rumbled to a stillness broken only by birds loitering for scraps and the slap of waves on Calliope's sides. The fishermen had not come in. The sky was a brilliant, blinding blue, as blue as Sara's eyes. Jack shook his head, disgusted with himself.

  Conner jumped the rail and landed light as a cat beside him. "Bob Mackey radioed. I told him we'd meet him tomorrow and see about the specimen."

  Jack fished around in his pockets for a utility knife. "I'm going to splice the rest of this and call it a day."

  Conner nodded, concern for his captain showing. "You want to go to Macaw's later?"

  "Maybe tomorrow. There's a pile of paperwork sitting on my counter."

  "Don't forget to sign the checks."

  Jack gave him half a grin. "Don't worry, you'll eat."

  He lingered behind, taking a hose to the deck out of habit. He couldn't leave his vessel in anything less than pristine condition. It would get wet and dirty again within hours and just as he did every time he brought her in, he'd scrub her back into shape.

  The squeegee did not want to cooperate and he had a hard time getting the water over the side. Perhaps holystones and swabs were too soon forgotten, he mused, as he pondered the advances of civilization.