TWO

TWO

COME UP, DAVID. Come up for air.

Sirens screamed out from a distance. Hemingway Grove police and fire, responding quickly, but it wouldn't be quickly enough.

I'd kicked off my heels, ready to jump in, those lifeguard rules again stopping me. David was right. It was best that I stand by the shore, ready to haul people onto the bank if they could make it that far.

If.

"Come up, David."

The SUV had fallen in the dead center of the river, which was the width of around half a football field, or so it had been described to me when I was a child. David had swum the twenty, maybe thirty yards in no time. That wasn't the problem; he was a strong swimmer, a triathlete. The problem was how long he'd been under once he reached the spot where the SUV had sunk. I tried to keep track of the seconds but couldn't stay calm, couldn't trust my count. Forty-five seconds? A minute? Maybe it was more like thirty seconds. Maybe he still had time.

I started toward the water, nearly sliding down the incline. I couldn't fathom not going in to help David. But one thought kept me on solid ground, and it wasn't the lifeguard rules. It was an ugly but necessary thought.

Our kids, Grace and Lincoln. They couldn't lose two parents in one day.

I couldn't believe I was even thinking such a thing, that David could be gone. He'd come up for air, right? Even if he couldn't pry free the driver and any other passengers, his instincts would force him to the surface for air, right?

People were shouting from the bridge, people behind me, bikers and joggers, stopping and calling out, too. Some of the people on the bridge were taking videos with their phones. All eyes were fixed on the water, waiting helplessly.

The sirens grew closer.

I couldn't believe this was happening. Minutes ago, nuzzling by the place we first met, sharing a treasured memory, remembering how lucky I felt to have him, and suddenly, just like that, David was … no, I couldn't let myself believe it was possible.

It had been more than a minute since he'd been underwater. I was sure of it. My head woozy, I finally remembered to breathe, something my husband could not do.

Then all sound was lost as my vision grew fuzzy with tears. So many thoughts and emotions bombarding me …

— how will I tell the kids; how will it affect them?

— he'll come up for air, of course he will;

— how unfair that he did everything right in life, followed the rules, cared for and loved his family, and he has to be taken away by the actions of some reckless, probably drunk, driver;

— he'll survive, you know he will, you know David;

— why did today have to be his birthday, why did this have to be his birthday wish, why did we have to be at this spot, why couldn't we have been anywhere else, anywhere else in the world?

And I felt myself but couldn't hear myself screaming, shouting, pleading —

Then I sensed a whoosh overhead, a strong current of air passing over me. A helicopter, the words HEMINGWAY GROVE RESCUE on the side, racing through the air toward the crash site, as people on the bridge waved and pointed toward the spot in the water.

He'll come up for air, I told myself. He just will .

The helicopter hovered over the area, dangerously close to the bridge. A panel door slid open automatically; a ladder unfolded from a mechanical lever, lowering to the water's surface.

Jump in, I silently pleaded. Jump in and rescue him .

But I could see nobody in the helicopter save the pilot. The police hadn't had time to scramble a rescue team — just the copter itself, from wherever it had been nearby.

He'll grab the ladder, I told myself. They'll fly him to safety. He'll wave to the crowd a hero, and we will live happily ever after .

Believe it will happen. Believe it with all your will.

It will happen. Believe it will happen.

Grab the ladder, David. Please. Please, David, grab the ladder and come back to us. Don't leave us on your forty-second birthday, not when the kids are so young and need you, not when we have so much time left together.

Grab the ladder, David. Do it. Now.

A hand popped out of the water and grabbed a rung of the ladder.