The Bottom of the Sea: Book One

Part 15: Indecision

How to explain?

After the way I behaved the last time I saw Jake, screaming and yelling at him to leave me alone, I thought he'd be furious with me. But the look on his face was confusion mixed with relief. He didn't say anything, just pulled out his phone.

"She's here at the Light office. Looks like she's been camped out for a few days. She's fine." He turned and held out the phone to me. "Missy," he said, but I'd already guessed. I shook my head.

He frowned and put the phone back to his ear. "I'll tell her. OK, you too. Bye." He clicked it off. "Missy says to call her immediately. Do you know how many people worried themselves sick over you the past few days?"

"Let me guess: One?" I pulled on a sweatshirt over my tank top and twisted my hair into a messy bun.

"Three," he said, grabbing the paper bag off the floor and sitting on the end of the couch. "Me, Margaret and Missy. How long have you been here?"

"A few nights," I said, sitting on the opposite end of the couch. He held out the paper bag to me. "Here. Eat something." My pride said to refuse, but my grumbling tummy was calling the shots. "Thank you," I mumbled, opening the bag and quickly unwrapping a crumbly croissant breakfast sandwich with cheese and ham. Salt and butter, is there anything better? "What about your breakfast?"

"I'll eat later," he said. "What happened to you? That day you went to the hospital, I've never been so scared in my life."

"Really?" I said, my mouth full of sandwich. Why would this guy care about me? He barely knew me.

"Of course," he said, looking shocked. "You went down hard, and then your eyes rolled back in your head and you were muttering to yourself and making guttural noises. I thought you were dying!"

"I'm not dying. I'm just pregnant," I said, polishing off the sandwich. "Can I have this?" I fished a hash brown patty out of the bag.

"Go ahead," he said, his brows furrowed. "Sorry, what?"

I bit into the crispy, greasy potato bomb. It was heaven. "Yep. Came as a shock to me too. I was also a bit dehydrated and embarrassed, but other than that, fine," I said, finishing the hash brown and searching the bag for more food. Delighted, I saw a donut at the very bottom and grabbed it. Mm, honey glaze. 

Jake nodded slowly, letting out a slow breath. "Well that wasn't on my bingo card for today." He sat back on the couch for a moment as if taking the news in. "Don't worry about being embarrassed to be sleeping on my couch. Once you puke on your boss' desk, it's all uphill from there."

"I'm not embarrassed, I'm resourceful," I said, brushing croissant crumbs from my chest. "You going to drink that?" He glanced at the coffee in his hand before passing it to me. I sipped the lukewarm cappuccino and stole a glance at my mysterious former boss.

My eyes lingered on his face, the sharp cheekbones, scruff of a beard and hair so black it shone blue in certain light. He had long, full eyelashes any girl would envy. There were times his eyes were as dark as sea glass, and times like now when they were a light apple green that flashed gold in the sun. Tiger eyes. I was so distracted by my problems, I never registered how handsome he was. He startled me by turning to me sharply and examining my face with those light, inquisitive eyes.

"I'm sorry if I was an asshole to you. Actually, there's no 'if' about it. I've been a total jerk to you since day one," he said. "I was going through some stuff and not fit to be around people. It won't happen again." He looked at his hands.

I appreciated the effort, but I was so tired of men apologizing for taking their shit out on me. I set the empty coffee cup with a bang and burped. My bus was leaving in an hour and I had to get ready.

"Not with me, because I'm leaving town on the next bus. Thank you for the job and everything. And breakfast."

He shot me a disappointed look. "Now that I've found you here, I was going to make the case for you to come back to the paper." He shook his head. "You've completely turned the paper around, putting it online and on social media. Our subscriptions are up and so is our advertising. For the first time, people are stopping me on the street and talking about your stories. Lately, they've been complaining about the shit photos and asking when we're going to publish another of your weekly citizen profiles."

That surprised me. I worked hard while I was there and was gratified to learn I'd made a difference. "Yeah?"

"Look, you're not just a photographer, you're a damn good reporter and you care. People in town are excited about the paper again, and that's down to you. I understand if you have to go. But there's a job here if you want it. Not just part time, I need a full time assistant editor. I want you to run the paper with me. The pay is better, and the job comes with full benefits. Now that I've seen what you can do, I need a second-in-command. What do you say?"

"Are you serious?"

"Very. I've had an employment agreement drawn up in case you ever agreed to speak to me again." He ran a hand through his hair. "I'm trying to do things right for once. Before you came, I was phoning it in, but I really want to make this paper a success. I'd hoped you'd take on the challenge with me." He held out his hand to shake mine. "What do you say, pardner?"

"What about this?" I ran a hand over my rounded belly.

"What kind of  a jackass would I be if I withheld a job offer to a pregnant woman? Plus, I'm sure you'd have grounds to sue. Work until you're ready to go off and then you'll have the standard benefits, mat leave, et cetera. We can work something out where you do all the administrative work from home, or work part time or whatever."

It was too good to be true. I shook my head. 

"Why would you do all that for me?"

He blinked in surprise. "Because you're good at what you do and I need the help. I need you," he said a bit more quietly. There was something in his eyes she couldn't quite decipher. "I have the money, I want to do it, I need someone permanent and you look like you could use a break."

"All good reasons," I murmured, wondering if I could trust him. 

I glanced at my suitcases in the corner, packed and ready to go and then back to his extended hand. He was offering me everything I wanted, on a platter. Money, stability, even benefits. But men said nice things when they wanted you around, made lots of promises. They could make you believe they'd changed; they were on their best behaviour. Until something else set them off and then they were back to using you for a punching bag. No one was ever going to beat up on me again, with words or fists.

There was an hour left until my bus left town.

What did I want? The question rattled around in my mind. There was no time to think and no way for me to decide. I needed a sign.

My eyes settled on a calendar on the wall, unchanged for months. It was a beach scene of Locke's Harbour, with the tide out. The sand was lit pink with the setting of the sun, and I remembered the times I walked the bottom of the ocean floor across the street from the house that was so menacing, and yet a safe haven for me. 

Suddenly, I knew what had to be done.