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should’ve been up on deck. Her wet white dress clung to her skin, and her boots slipped on the waterlogged boards as she tried in vain to battle the wind that hurled her against the rails. Maybe he’d gone below to look for her. Then a rat ran by. A big, ugly grey rat. What was a rat doing here when all hell was breaking loose?
    Shivering, she turned back. She was almost at the top of the galley stairs when someone hollered through the din of the tempest. She looked back to see an old man slide towards her. His soaked white beard and hair framed a face lined with fear, and he held on to some rigging to steady himself. Their fingers touched and he tried to grab her, but she slipped away before he could get a good hold.
    He extended his hand again. “Come, lass,” he yelled.“Ye cannot stay here.”
    His weathered hand grasped her wrist and pulled. The seas continued to rage. A giant bird flew in and out of the dark clouds, trying to find an opening. A massive wave rose over the ship, crashed down, and sent her and the old man flying to the other side of the vessel. When she raised herself, the old man was gone. He had disappeared in the torrent.
    She wailed, “Oh, God! No!”
    “Mama, Mama. Wake up. Wake up.”
    She held the rope tightly, while the rolling ship threw her in all directions.
    Someone was shaking her. Was it the old man, or was it the wind? No, it couldn’t be him. He’d vanished in the storm.
    “Mama, wake up. You’re having a nightmare.”
    The sea departed quickly as if someone was chasing it.
    “Mama, are you okay?”
    Catherine opened her eyes. Alex was sitting beside her, her blue eyes rimmed with concern. It took a moment for Catherine to realize she was in Richard’s guest room. Her sheets were twisted around her thighs, and she kicked her legs to untangle herself. She had survived.
     
    ~~~
     
    Catherine was setting the table in Richard’s breakfast nook when she stopped to marvel at the rock formations and peach trees in bloom in Central Park.
    “I’ve always loved this view,” she said to Richard, who was masterfully flipping pancakes at the stove. “Anything else I can do?”
    “There’s some maple syrup in the fridge. Do you want me to sprinkle some blueberries on yours?”
    “Sure, sounds good.” As she watched him at the griddle, she had to admit she missed his cooking. He was damn good at it. She took the syrup off the refrigerator shelf and upon closing the door, she noticed a photo on it of Alex at two, just before everything went haywire. Richard was grinning from ear to ear as he held his daughter on a swing.
    “Are you going to do it?” said Richard, transferring the pancakes to a warming plate.
    “What?”
    “The dive for National Geographic .”
    “I haven’t decided yet, but I’m leaning that way.”
    Richard poured more batter on the griddle. “Before you do, maybe you should see someone. I promise not to interfere this time.”
    Surprised, she looked at him. He was admitting he’d been out of line.
    Richard turned to her. “Well, what do you think?”
    “Richard, I don’t need a shrink for this.”
    “I understand, but…” He hesitated. “You had a hell of a time last night.”
    “Did Alex tell you?”
    He shook his head. “You were pretty loud. It reminded me of what you went through after your last dive.”
    Catherine’s jaw tightened. “This was different.”
    He ladled more batter on the grill. “It makes sense you’d dream something unsettling, considering what you’re thinking of doing.”
    “I appreciate that you want to help but I don’t want to talk about it.”
    “If you change your mind, I could recommend someone.”
    “I know.” Maybe Richard was right. Maybe her nightmare had to do with her fears of something bad happening again on a dive. She couldn’t discount that. In her dream, she was fighting for her life, or was she trying to save someone else’s? But whose? It seemed like someone she loved. She was usually good at