“Don’t you worry about that?”
“Not really. There’s not much to the place, and that’s the only reason I could afford it. I think the former owner finally got tired of all the stress every time a big storm started moving across the Atlantic.”
They reached the cracked front steps and walked inside. The first thing Theresa noticed upon entering was the view from the main room. The windows extended from the floor to the ceiling and ran along the entire back side of the house, overlooking the back deck and Carolina Beach.
“This view is incredible,” she said, surprised.
“It is, isn’t it? I’ve been here for a few years now, but I still don’t take it for granted.”
Off to one side was a fireplace, surrounded by a dozen underwater photographs. She moved toward them. “Do you mind if I look around?”
“No, go ahead. I have to get the grill out back ready anyway. It needs a bit of cleaning.”
Garrett left through the sliding glass door.
After he left, Theresa looked at the pictures for a while, then toured the rest of the house. Like many beach houses she had seen, there wasn’t room for more than one or two people to live here. There was only one bedroom, reached by a door off the living room. Like the main room, it also had floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the beach. The front portion of the house—the side closest to the street—contained a kitchen, a small dining area (not quite a room), and the bathroom. Though everything was tidy, the house looked as though it hadn’t been updated in years.
Returning to the main room, she stopped at his bedroom and glanced inside. Again she saw underwater photographs decorating the walls. In addition, there was a large map of the North Carolina coast that hung directly over his bed, documenting the location of almost five hundred shipwrecks. When she looked toward his nightstand, she saw a framed picture of a woman. Making sure that Garrett was still outside cleaning the grill, she stepped in to take a closer look.
Catherine must have been in her mid-twenties when it was taken. Like the photos on the walls, it looked as though Garrett had taken it himself, and she wondered whether it had been framed before or after the accident. Picking it up, she saw that Catherine was attractive—a little more petite than she was—with blond hair that hung to midshoulder. Even though the picture was slightly grainy and looked as if it had been reproduced from a smaller photo, she still noticed Catherine’s eyes. Deep green and almost catlike, they gave her an exotic look and almost seemed as if they were staring back at her. She put the photo down gently, making sure it was set in the same angle it was before. Turning around, she continued to feel as if Catherine were watching her every move.
Ignoring the sensation, she looked at the mirror attached to his chest of drawers. Surprisingly, there was only one more photo that included Catherine. It was a picture of Garrett and Catherine smiling broadly, standing on the deck of Happenstance . Because the boat looked as if it had already been restored, she assumed the picture must have been taken only a few months before she died.
knowing he could enter the house at any time, she left his bedroom, feeling a little guilty about poking around in the first place. She walked to the sliding glass doors that led from the main room onto the deck and opened them. Garrett was cleaning the grill top and smiled at her when he heard her come out. She strolled to the edge of the deck where he was working and leaned against one of the rails, one leg over the other.
“Did you take all the photos on the walls?” she asked.
He used the back of his hand to wipe the hair from his face. “Yeah. For a while there, I took my camera out on most of my dives. I hung most of them at the shop, but because I had so many, I thought I’d put some up here as well.”
“They look professional.”
“Thanks. But I think their quality had more to do with the sheer volume I took. You should have seen all the ones that didn’t come out.”
As he spoke, Garrett held up the grill top. Although it was charred black in places, it looked ready, and he set it off to one side. He reached for a bag of charcoal and dumped some into a grill that looked thirty years old, using his hand to make sure they were spread evenly. Then he added a bit of lighter fluid, soaking each briquette for just a moment.
She spoke in the same teasing voice she had used before. “You know, they have propane grills now.”
“I know, but I like to do it the way we did it growing up. Besides, it tastes better this way. Cooking with propane is just like cooking inside.”
She smiled. “And you did promise me the best steak I’ve ever had.”
“And you’ll get it. Trust me.”
he finished with the lighter fluid and set it by the bag of charcoal. “I’m going to let this soak for a couple of minutes. Do you want anything to drink?”
Theresa asked, “What do you have?”
Garrett cleared his throat. “Beer, soda, or the wine you brought.”
“A beer sounds good.”
Garrett picked up the charcoal and lighter fluid and put them in an old sea chest that sat next to the house. After dusting the sand off the bottoms of his shoes, he went inside, leaving the sliding glass door open.
While he was gone, Theresa turned and looked up and down the beach. Now that the sun was going down, most of the people were gone, and the few that were left were jogging or walking. Even though the beach wasn’t crowded, more than a dozen people went past the house in the short time he was gone.
“Do you ever get tired of having all these people around?” she asked when he returned.
He handed her the beer. “Not really. I’m not here all that much anyway. Usually by the time I get home, the beach is pretty much deserted. And in the winter, no one is out here at all.”
For just a moment, she imagined him sitting on his deck, watching the water, alone as always. Garrett reached into his pocket and took out a box of matches. He lit the charcoals, stepping back when the flames shot up. The light breeze made the fire dance in circles.
“Now that the coals are started, I’m going to get supper going.”
“Can I give you a hand with something?”
“there’s not much to do,” he answered. “But if you’re lucky, maybe I’ll share my secret recipe with you.”
She cocked her head and looked at him slyly. “You know you’re setting a pretty high standard for these steaks.”
“I know. But I have faith.”
He winked at her and she laughed before following him inside, to the kitchen. Garrett opened one of the cabinets and pulled out a couple of potatoes. Standing in front of the sink, he washed his hands first and then the potatoes. After turning on the oven, he wrapped the potatoes in foil and set them on the rack.
“What can I do?”
“Like I said, not much. I think I’ve got it pretty much in control. I bought one of those prepackaged salads, and there’s not anything else on the menu.”
Theresa stood off to one side as Garrett put the last of the potatoes in the oven and got the salad out of the refrigerator. From the corner of his eye, he glanced at her as he emptied the salad into a bowl. What was it about her that made him suddenly want to be as close to her as possible? Wondering, he opened the refrigerator and pulled out the steaks he’d had the store cut just for tonight. He opened the cabinet next to the refrigerator and found the rest of the items he needed. After collecting them, he set everything down next to Theresa.