Chapter Fifteen Tula
Chapter Fifteen
Tula
I spent several hours at the Brooks house cleaning out the closets.
All were organized but full of blankets, sheets, and more boxes of paper.
The man hadn’t met a clipping, document, or bill he hadn’t loved and saved.
I began organizing all the items in piles in the living room.
Bedding in one heap. Paper in another. And books in another.
As the washing machine chugged with the first load, I shifted my attention to the boxes of paper.
They were heavy, each packed to maximum capacity, and they weighed at least thirty pounds each.
These items would also need to be sorted.
Shredding and disposal would be the main objective.
I knew enough about Dr. Brooks to know he wouldn’t want his papers shared. And then the books. So many books.
There were as many novels as there were nonfiction books, and the copyright dates spanned decades.
A quick look, and I saw that some had copyright dates from the 1920s.
I wasn’t sure who would want these books.
Donation centers and libraries preferred novels, not discussions on geopolitics and war.
Still, just tossing them didn’t feel right either.
A tag sale would be the most profitable way to dispense of all these items, but I couldn’t imagine Dr. Brooks wanting people milling around in his house.
I called Morrison’s Auction House. I got a voicemail recording, and I left a message for Sharon to contact me.
My phone dinged with a text from Kaitlin. What are you doing?
Sorting. I scanned the piles around me. Less is definitely more in life.
Kaitlin: I hear ya. Want to meet for dinner? Surf camp ends at seven.
It was past six, and a peanut butter sandwich didn’t feel so appealing. Sure.
Kaitlin: Arthur’s. See you right after seven.
Me: Will do.
I walked to the bathroom, stripped, showered, and brushed my hair.
And then, for whatever reason, I grabbed my mascara and lipstick and applied both.
It wasn’t like Kaitlin had said Nathan was going to be at dinner.
And I sure wasn’t expecting him, exactly.
Still, it didn’t hurt to look presentable.
By the time I arrived at Arthur’s, it was buzzing with customers. I saw contractors I’d noticed last night and now a few sunburned tourists.
I was ready to be around people. My back ached and my fingers felt swollen as I settled on the same barstool at the same round cocktail table, next to Kaitlin.
“Is this going to be our table?” I asked.
“Routine is your thing, right?”
I traced the laminated top. My stool wobbled a little, but I liked the familiarity.
“I remember how you lined up your hairbrushes, combs, and clips on your dresser,” Kaitlin said.
“You kept rearranging them.”
She smiled. “It was kind of mean. If I’d thought about it, I would have left your stuff alone.”
The waitress we’d met last night brought us both a beer. “Burgers?” she asked.
“Yes,” I said. “Just like yesterday.”
The waitress winked. “I like a customer who doesn’t hem and haw.”
I took a long sip of my beer. As the cool beverage slid through my body, the front door opened, and Nathan entered the bar. Like me, he was a creature of habit. One of us might need to find a new routine.
He waved to us, grabbed a beer at the bar, and moved straight toward the seat beside me. “I knew you’d be here.”
“I’m that predictable?” Seven years ago, we’d talked about having normal lives. Neither of us wanted one, but we both needed to manage the chaos. I’d created my own little bubble of certainty.
“You are. But so am I.”
That coaxed a smile. His daily routine had been as quirky as mine.
“Tula had an interesting find,” Kaitlin said. “Her boss gave her a partial manuscript about the Oceanus. She’s cleaning out a house this summer, and the guy who once owned it might be the author.”
“Really?” Nathan shifted his attention to me.
I could’ve reached across the table and strangled Kaitlin, but that wouldn’t have ended well for any of us. I wasn’t ready to go public with a story that felt so connected to me. “All true.”
Kaitlin kindly updated Nathan on what we knew about Dr. Atticus Brooks.
“The name Atticus Brooks is familiar.” He leaned forward a fraction, and I caught the scents of sunshine, seawater, and sweat.
“When I was diving with your mother, I remember him. He was the oldest guy I’d ever met.
He was often waiting by the dive boat each time we pulled into the dock.
He always had questions for your mother and me about the dive. ”
I’d been in school most diving days. And neither Mom nor Nathan had mentioned Dr. Brooks’s visits.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked.
“Didn’t think about it,” he said.
“What was he like?”
“Much older, but always pulled together and very sharp. He knew more about the Oceanus than either of us,” Nathan said. “He and your mom had coffee several times.”
“He was on the wreck when it sank,” I said.
“Seriously? He never mentioned it. But he had a way of deflecting the conversation away from himself and back to us.”
The waitress brought three burger plates. I didn’t have to look to know Nathan’s burger had extra onions and double fries.
“You going to share this manuscript with me?” Nathan’s voice dropped a notch, as if we were now co-conspirators.
But when it came to the Oceanus, I was territorial.
The wreck had claimed nineteen people in 1942 and my mother in 2019.
“There’s not much to it. The rest of the manuscript might not exist.”
“But even having a partial is exciting,” Nathan said.
“It’s just random insights into a few of the passengers.”
He pretended to pout. “Tula. You don’t believe that, do you?”
“Maybe.”
He pointed a french fry at me. “I’ll trade. I’ll share the Oceanus footage if you show me your pages.”
“You were going to do that anyway,” I said.
He shrugged. “I can also guide you down there, if that’s what you want. Still going tomorrow.”
My stomach clenched. “I’m not diving.”
He shook his head as if I’d spouted nonsense. “When you build up your nerve, and you will, I’ll take you. You’ll be too curious to resist. In the meantime, you can let me read those pages.”
I imagined my mother in the murky waters, skimming her gloved hand along the barnacle-covered hull. “Not interested in diving.”
“I don’t believe you,” he said. “You wouldn’t have come back to the Outer Banks if you weren’t curious.”
“I’m curious about anything to do with my mom. Beyond that, I don’t care.”
I couldn’t tell if I saw annoyance, hurt, or curiosity.
“But she was really into this shipwreck. And forever linked to it. Don’t you want to know why she made the choices she did that day?”
“A dive won’t tell me that.”
“You never know.”
I bit into my burger, savoring the feeling of energy and the flavors hitting my body. After seven years of vending machine foods, I was so glad for the change. My therapist had told me the candy and chips were papering over sadness and boredom. Duh.
“Tomorrow is your day to find out,” Nathan said.
“Sounds like a great idea,” Kaitlin said. “I bet Tula would go in a nondiving capacity.”
“Friday is a big cleaning day,” I said.
“You can join me after the dive,” Kaitlin said.
Nathan shifted his gaze toward me, his brow raised. “She’s too scared.”
I was afraid. In fact, my palms were sweating now.
I stuffed two french fries into my mouth.
But if anyone other than Nathan had thrown down like this, I’d have laughed, skipped the trip, and stopped for ice cream on the way home.
But there was something about Nathan that had always been under my skin.
If I called my therapist, his answer would have been quick.
Of course you need to go. His words rang in my brain. Run toward fear.
But I’d done such a great job of running away from it for seven years.
“She’s not scared,” Kaitlin said. “If she were, she wouldn’t be on the Outer Banks now.”
I checked the dessert menu, ready to order chocolate cake. But the waitress was busy taking a large order at another table.
“We’re on land.” He grabbed a fry. “Not a drop of water in sight. She won’t take the risk of being on a boat.”
“There’s plenty of water around us,” I said. “I could see it from the second floor of this place.”
“How many times have you been to the beach since you arrived, Tula?” He drew out my name as if we were both middle schoolers.
“Once. No, twice.”
Everyone had cut me so much slack after Mom died.
I’d felt like crystal, knowing I might crack at the slightest hit.
At the time, I wasn’t worried about my lingering doubts.
I was certain I’d have shaken them by that first Christmas.
And then I was sure that I’d be myself by Easter and then the next summer break.
And then Dave. But the more time passed, and the longer I followed Dave across solid ground, the more ingrained my anxieties became.
And now here I was. Still afraid. “Okay, I’ll go on the dive boat. But I’m not diving.”
For a split second, I thought I hadn’t said the words out loud. But they both looked up at me, their faces mirroring their surprised pleasure.
“Really?” Nathan asked.
“Yeah. What time?” My stomach clenched, and I immediately regretted the words.
“Seven a.m. tomorrow. I can pick you up at Kaitlin’s.”
“I’m staying at the house in Southern Shores.” I threw out the bit of information as if adding ten miles to the distance between us would protect me. “I can meet you at the dock.”
“And give you the chance to chicken out?” Nathan asked. “No way. I’ll pick you up in Southern Shores. Text me the address.”
“I’m not backing out.” But I was already running scenarios that would provide reasons to cancel and still save face. There were none.
Kaitlin texted. “There’s the address.”
Nathan’s phone chimed, and he looked at the address. “Good. I’ll be at the Brooks house at six a.m. tomorrow.”
“Great,” I ground out. “Can’t wait.”
“You can tell me about the manuscript, and I’ll show you a few videos. You show me yours, and I’ll show you mine.”
Was that sexual innuendo, or did I just want it to be? I’d been thinking about sex ever since we’d cleaned the Love Shack. Color warmed my cheeks. I drank more beer, which made my head spin. “I’ll look, but I can’t promise there’s anything valuable.”
Kaitlin grinned. “This is going to be great. Nathan and Tula, the dynamic duo back in action again.”
“We aren’t a duo,” I said. “It’s a ride on a boat.”
“We made a good team back in the day,” Nathan said.
In Greece and that last spring, we’d both helped Mom and worked well together.
Both of us knew our way around the boat and scuba gear.
We were both fearless. And both of us were passionate about exploring the Oceanus.
Nathan had stayed an avid fan, but I wasn’t that intrepid girl anymore.
Somewhere along the way, I’d stopped chasing everything and had become consumed with holding on as tightly as I could.
The old me had lived a life that was completely free and unafraid. And all that bravado was now foreign to me. I needed an infusion of the old Tula’s naive fierceness. She might have been reckless, but she was so cool.
And I kind of missed old Tula. A lot. And I wanted her back. But standing between us were thousands of miles of choppy, shark-infested waters.