I felt him prepare to intervene.
“Yes.”
“We’re on the afternoon reef dive.”
She held up her certification card.
“My husband hasn’t been in the water for two years and is pretending he isn’t nervous.”
Her husband frowned.
“I’m not pretending.”
“You reorganized the gear bag three times.”
“It needed organization.”
I smiled.
“My father makes files when he’s nervous.”
The husband considered this.
“Does it help?”
“No.”
The woman laughed.
Neither mentioned Annie.
I checked their certification cards, asked about their last dives, and explained the afternoon conditions.
By the time they left for lunch, my shoulders had lowered.
Hank handed me a clipboard.
“You can work the afternoon boat.”
“I thought I was being prevented.”
“Limited activity was approved.”
“By whom?”
“Your mother.”
“I am thirty-two.”
“She was persuasive.”
“I’m blocking both of you.”
“You’ll need my number when the compressor fails.”
“The compressor is new.”
“Something else will fail.”
