Chapter 16
The Widow
“Crystal, any guesses about what the hell that is?” Scott’s voice rings out over the marina noise as he points across the water.
He’s standing beside Adeline’s slip. The vessel he’s pointing to has a simple number painted on the hull, but no name and no NOAA insignia.
Anchored about a quarter mile offshore, it’s an eyesore against the tranquil setting of the island’s coast.
I don’t know what it is—but I know who’s responsible.
He’s getting out of his car right now, carrying armloads of stuff and wearing another fancy suit.
Even though I’m still a little mad at him about going over my head, I have to laugh.
Some people have quirks that tell you more about them than their words.
“No idea,” I say.
The salty air now tastes sour.
Nothing screams emergency like a huge vessel planted on your doorstep.
The locals are going to have a field day.
Scott and I are waiting at the docks for Nathan. Today’s his first dive to see the blue hole. We’re not going in, of course.
The blue hole. Carter’s Drop.
Nathan knew it was there long before there was any physical proof. Everyone who’s heard of him knows of his genius. But what most people aren’t aware of is his faith. Faith in his ideas. In himself. In the truth of something that can be studied and understood before it’s ever seen.
He’d spent his entire life poring over scholarly and field material on the myth of Atlantis. Once, I’d asked him what made him latch on to that story at such a young age and then stick with it throughout his academic career.
His answer wasn’t what I expected.
“I’m not particularly interested in Atlantis,” he’d said.
“Uh?” I looked at him like he’d turned into an elephant.
“Do you remember who’s credited for the scientific method?”
I’d thought about it for a moment. “Sir Francis Bacon? I think?”
“Yes.” He leaned in and kissed me quickly. “But so much of the groundwork was laid by Aristotle’s formalization of logic.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Does this have anything to do with your fondness for poetry? I feel like you’re about to recite me something.”
He’d laughed. “No. When I was a boy, I wanted the legend to be true. Badly. As I learned more, I wanted to understand what the legend was based on. Because it was based on something.”
“The hubris of man?” I asked.
Surprise flashed across his face, and he nodded. He was always so proud when I solved one of his puzzles.
“When technological power exceeds moral restraint, collapse follows.”
“That’s a bit grim. What does this have to do with your research, sailor?” Sometimes he could get lost in his head.
“By sticking to logic and not myth, I’m on the brink of finding the truth that inspired the myth. Right here in Maverick Key.”
I didn’t doubt him.
A few months after he told me he would, he discovered the blue hole. Then, seven months later, he was gone.
Now here we are, years later, still looking for answers.
“What the hell, Finn?” Scott asks as Finn reaches us.
“It’s my research lab,” Finn answers as he walks up the pier, carrying a huge metal box and his briefcase. “Want to come on board? I’m heading over there right now.”
“Who’s paying for that monstrosity?”
“There are private investors.”
“Has the Coast Guard cleared it?” Scott asks.
“Not quite yet. It just arrived.”
“Good luck hiding that thing. They’ll be boarding it within the hour.”
“Right.” Finn throws his stuff into the RIB vessel, unties it, and boards.
“I’m getting these specimens to the lab.
Based on the condition of the metals and ceramics, they must be tens of thousands of years old.
I’m particularly intrigued by the one with the beautiful patina.
” Waving goodbye, he sails toward the ship.
Finn got all his goodies from the team’s first technical dive.
Nathan and I were there for the post-dive debriefing.
The team successfully reached the Megaron and collected the artifacts they were after.
Controlled chaos was the best way to describe what they encountered.
Halfway down, temperatures approached the upper limits of what could be safely tolerated.
And some rocks soared to over four hundred degrees in small clusters throughout the walls of the room.
The water was so hot in those spots that it shimmered.
Everyone had to stay meters away from the walls.
Presumably, this means that the water in some portions of the caves won’t be accessible.
Scott turns back to me. “Where’s Nathan?”
“Taking Natalie to school. He’ll be here soon.”
“How are you holding up?”
“Good,” I say quickly. As much as I love my brother-in-law, I don’t want to get into the mess that is my emotions with him. “I’m excited to see him get back into the water today.”
Nathan has moved in with us, and I’m relieved to have him back, but my dread about what will happen in Carter’s Drop and the diminishing returns my conservation team is experiencing is disheartening.
Our coral restoration dive activity may be doing more harm than good, and we’re about to decide whether to pause our work and instead focus on how we can support Dr. Clark and the dive team.
We see Nathan’s car pull into the marina lot. He steps out wearing sunglasses and a yellow rash guard. He looks exactly as he used to on boating days. Grabbing his dive bag, he slams the door and walks down the pier.
“There he is.”
“Ready to get wet?” Scott calls out as Nathan approaches.
“Ready to see the blue hole.”
“It’s waiting for you. Let’s go see it.”
When we board, Maddie’s standing there waiting for us on the deck. None of us knew she was coming.
“Maddie? Where’s Christopher?” Scott asks, eyeing her and the pink tanks stashed over in the deck’s corner suspiciously.
“Ms. Connor.”
“…and why are you here, sweetheart?”
“I couldn’t miss this.” She walks over to Nathan. “You took me on my first dive. So, I’m going to take you on this one,” she beams.
Nathan, looking a little worried, smiles back at her.
“Hell, Maddie. You’re not diving. You just gave birth a week ago.”
She shoots Scott an annoyed look. “I can handle it. I’m prepared, and I won’t go too deep. It’ll be fine.”
“No, ma’am.” Scott walks up to her and gives her a sweet kiss.
Maddie pouts. But she knows she can’t dive.
“I’ll be his buddy on this dive,” I tell her. “You can have him next time.”
“Dang it. I wanted to, Nathan. Give me a few more weeks, and we’ll go.”
“I can’t wait, Maddie.” He hugs her.
“Mads,” she whispers. “You always called me Mads.”
“Mads.”
Her gaze drops to his belt. She stills, then reaches for something. Pulling out one of his dive knives, she stares at it.
“I found it in the closet last night.”
“Dad gave this to you.”
“Son, be brave. Be free,” Nathan recites the inscription.
“He wanted that for you,” Maddie says. “You’ve always been those things. He wanted you to have a tangible reminder of who you are.”
Nathan’s a graceful diver. Not a word you’d use for most men, but it fits him.
His movements are fluid and controlled, seemingly effortless, and his body is perfectly streamlined for swimming.
We’re wearing thin wetsuits and carrying slates for communication.
Scott is with us but stays at a distance, doing his own thing as Nathan and I swim close together side by side.
As we near the blue hole, I wonder what he’ll feel when he sees it.
I expected to see more fish than there are today.
When we approach the coral encroachment, I freeze.
It’s worse than it was last week. Among the vivid golds, reds, and blues are batches of ghostly snow white.
Not dead yet—but dying. Tears run down my face, fogging my mask.
Nathan looks in my direction and gently touches my arm.
That’s when we see it. The entrance to the blue hole.
Still remarkable, but its oasis of life is drying up. Thinner schools of Chromis, deflated sponge, and milky white particles dancing in the air. Beautiful, but fraying at the edges.
Nathan freezes. His eyes are fixed on the dark mouth of the cavern. I touch his back and watch him. He eases closer to it. And closer. Oh no. I tap my tank to get his attention. When he turns, I point away from the hole. He raises his hand and signals to give him a minute. Then he moves forward.
He’s going in. Nathan!
Screaming at him isn’t an option, and I can’t dive caves. Desperately, I search for Scott and see he’s not far away, already seeing what Nathan’s up to. Is he smiling? Scott gives me a wait signal. Then he follows Nathan into the hole.
Forever seems to pass by before they both reemerge. Scott gives us the thumbs up, ending the dive.
Back on the deck, Scott walks over to Nathan and helps him out of his gear. “Not cool, man. Not cool.”
“I needed to see it.”
Scott tilts his head in my direction but says nothing.
Nathan presses his lips into a thin line, then looks down. “I was out of line.”
Scott smiles faintly. Nathan walks over to me. “That was shitty of me. I’ll stick to the plan next time. I’m sorry I scared you, Crystal.”
It’s impossible to be mad, and I believe him when he says he won’t do it again.
As we clean up, there’s a sudden shift in the wind.
“Maddie, Crystal. Take cover,” Scott calls out. “This is going to be a nasty one.”
Dark, near-black clouds have swallowed the sky. Where in the world did they come from? Thunder slams in the distance while flashes of electricity scatter overhead. Scott and Nathan immediately start securing the Adeline. While Maddie and I find shelter in the cabin.
Storms have always marked turning points in our lives together. They don’t scare me anymore. Nathan told me I was the living personification of storm winds to him. Sudden, strong, impatient…
This one is violent, but oddly familiar.
So similar to the one Nathan and I encountered on one of our journeys to Belize.
After graduation, Nathan remained affiliated with the University of Miami and often worked on marine heritage programs with NOAA.
One of those projects was a joint expedition with the University of Belize.
For weeks at a time, he’d travel to complete fieldwork.
He took me with him a few times, the first shortly after we became a couple.
He’d usually fly to Belize, but for this one, he wanted to take me on the Natalie Dawn.
A weeklong sail. A week that flew by like a dream.
On the first night of the trip, we found ourselves in the middle of a raging storm.
Sailing in the big ocean—no land in sight.
Somewhere northeast of the Dry Tortugas, the pressure in the air dropped, and we could sense the storm coming.
Eerily calm, we prepped the boat as quickly as we could, taking shelter in the cabin as the rain started coming down in curtains.
In seconds, it erupted into violent gusts and choppy seas. I tried to act brave, but I was scared.
“Do you know the best thing to do when the waves are rocking your boat?”
“What?” I eyed him suspiciously. More nervous with each shake of the boat and crash of thunder.
“If you can’t beat them… join them.”
“That’s so lame.” I laughed at his silly joke anyway. Then I looked in his eyes, and it wasn’t so funny anymore.
He eased past the cramped furniture in the berth and stood in front of me.
His short gray cotton shirt was soaked, with every muscle I’d memorized visible through the cloth.
The urge to touch him was too strong to ignore, even with the fear that the boat was going to be torn apart around us.
I pushed my fingers through the belt loops on his shorts and pulled him closer.
Not touching me at all, he tilted his head slightly without easing the intensity of his gaze.
Did I do something wrong? His lips were still.
Pressed into a firm, straight line. So serious.
I’d never seen him like that. I caught my breath as warmth in my core spread through my body, followed by a pleasant tingle. I really hoped I was in trouble.
“You’re gonna make me melt,” I whispered. I could barely recognize my voice.
Running his tongue across his bottom lip, still not moving an inch, not touching me. “Well… if you’re about to melt.” Then his face broke into his signature lopsided grin. “I’d better eat you up fast.”
My cheeks flamed. Now my whole body was on fire.
Tossing me onto the bottom bunk, he gently pushed down on my chest until I lay flat on my back.
Slowly, he lifted my legs and bent my knees to make room for him to get in.
With his gaze still locked on my eyes, he crouched between my legs and slowly slid his fingers over my hips.
When he got to the waistband of my shorts, he jerked them down and off, slinging them to the floor.
“There’s not an inch of you I don’t love.
I could spend weeks out here on the water.
You. Me. This. If everything else in the whole world fell away—you’re all I need.
” He kissed my belly and started the slow trek down, tasting me as he went.
“There’s something I’ve been wanting to ask you,” he said breathlessly.
“Yes?” I asked, gasping at his light caresses.
Ignoring my question, he continued to trace his tongue along my skin, stopping only when he got to where I wanted him to go.
Distracted, I begged. “What is it you want to ask me? Tell me.”
“Mmm,” he murmured, blowing wicked puffs of air against me.
“Tell me right now. Nathan—I don’t like waiting,” I squirmed.
Lifting his head, he gripped my hips tightly. “Patience, you harpy. Lie still.” We stared at each other as he pulled me closer. Gently, he stroked my bottom, then squeezed, lowering his head back down, teasing me with one lick. “I’ll tell you when I’m done eating.”
I forgot all about the storm.
Later that night, after the rain stopped, and the ocean stilled, we held each other under the covers. When he fell asleep, I shook him awake.
“Are you ever going to tell me what you wanted to ask me?” I reminded him.
“Will you marry me?”