Beneath the Surface

The jet engines roared into action, drowning out the whispers of the past. Jeremy Caldwell sat in plush leather, staring out into sprawl that was now greening up-the Italian countryside, slipping down below a smudge of cloud. The green hills dotted with quaint villages and winding roads felt like a lifetime ago-a dream he chased but could never catch. He squeezed his fists and felt the steel in his determination whet with each passing mile. He had not set a foot in San Diego for almost a decade. A full ten long years since that shipwreck had torn his world asunder and blown out the lives of his parents and friends. Swallowed by the sea, and with them, the ocean took a boy he once was, exchanging him for a hardened military veteran. The transition had been brutal, forged in the chaos of war with the weight of grief upon him. Now he was to go back and take over Caldwell Enterprises-a family legacy that, since then, had fallen silent. The company had survived, but it was struggling, and Jeremy felt the heavy mantle of responsibility settle upon his shoulders. He looked out of the window, watching the last glimmers of Italy fade into a sea of white clouds, wondering what awaited him back home. A flight attendant approached with a glass of champagne. "Mr Caldwell," she said with a practiced smile. "Welcome aboard. We'll be landing in San Diego shortly." "Thank you," he said. His voice was a deep rumble, much like the turmoil in his heart. He took the glass-the bubbles lightly fizzing against the crystal. Jeremy raised it slightly-a silent toast to the ghosts of his past-and threw it down, feeling the liquid warmth spread through him in one swift motion. He would need every last shred ofo such courage for what lay in store. As the plane began its descent, the images swirled in Jeremy's mind of laughter from his parents, their encouragement, and their dreams together about Caldwell Enterprises. Growing up in this world of business had taught him how to rule with integrity and compassion-values that, to his mind, seemed so much like ancient relics in view of the loss he suffered. The smooth aircraft touched down on the runway, jolting him out of his reverie. He felt the tug of gravity as the plane rolled to a stop, and with that realization that finally, he was back. Having gotten off the airplane, a couple of feelings began struggling inside him-opposite in their nature-the warm sun of California embracing him, it seemed, as an old friend would do. He cast his hand over his eyes and took his time to breathe it all in: flowers in bright colors leading up to the entrance of the airport, waves at the shore crashing in. It was all just so much like he remembered it, yet it was different, somehow. Tingled with a melancholy type of nostalgia now, it reminded him of a lost life. He stepped out onto the tarmac, the gravel crunching beneath his nicely polished black boots. Waiting for him was a sleek black SUV, and he strode toward it, his heartbeat quickening. He hauled himself into the back seat and drew in a deep breath, ready for the trip ahead. "Mr. Caldwell," said the driver-a middle-aged man with graying hair and a respectful demeanor. "Welcome back. The board's expecting you." "Thanks," Jeremy said, his voice low and gravelly. "Let's go." The vehicle pulled away from the airport, and Jeremy watched the landscape whizz by. The ocean glittered in the distance, its waves a reminder of the depths that had claimed his family. It was surreal-being back in the city where everything had changed, where his life fractured into pieces he was still struggling to put back together. The driver worked his way through busy streets until they pulled up in front of the Caldwell Enterprises headquarters. Jeremy felt a wave of apprehension mixed with determination. In front of him, the towering glass building gleamed as a testator to both inheritance and bereavement. He remembered playing in its corridors as a child, dreaming one day of managing the family business himself. But for now, that dream weighed heavy on him, loaded with expectations that had been placed upon him. The SUV came to rest, and Jeremy stepped out into what felt like the world's gaze. The murmurs died as staff, hanging about near the doorway, turned to stare, words darting between them like startled birds. He squared his shoulders, his mind back on the business at hand. A feeling of déjà vu washed over him as he stepped into the lobby. The high ceilings and waxed floors reflected the light from brilliant lamps; framed photos of his parents lined the walls-totally bittersweet reminders of happier times. Jeremy's heart clenched in his chest as he passed a picture of his mother, her warm smile lighting up the frame. It had been years since he'd last seen that smile in person, and suddenly it felt like a crushing wave, like the ache of her absence. "Jeremy," the now familiar voice cut through the murkiness of his memories. He turned to see Charlotte, his mother's long-time assistant, running toward him. Tears bright in her eyes, she flung her arms tightly around him. "Charlotte," he whispered, giving in to the urge to lean into her warmth for a second. "It is good to see you." "We have missed you," she said to him, drawing back far enough to look into his face, her eyes searching there. "It has been too long." "I'm back now," he replied to her, his voice firm and sure, though turmoil swirled in his belly. "I'm here to take over." "How proud your parents would have been," Charlotte said softly, choking on her words. "The board is waiting for you in the conference room." He nodded, the fire of determination running through his veins. "Let's get this over with." They walked down the hallways, so familiar to him, yet suddenly different now that Jeremy was walking towards them; his heart pounding in his chest with every step closer to the door leading into the conference room. He could hear the low murmur of voices from inside-the cacophony of opinions and expectations. It was now-what he had feared and was expecting in equal measure. The door opened, and the chatter stopped as they all turned to him. The room was filled with faces he knew: executives and board members he had grown up with. The air was thick with a mix of curiosity and apprehension. "Jeremy!" The chairman, a stout man with thinning hair, rose, extending his arms in greeting. "It is nice to see you again." "Thank you, Mr. Lawson," Jeremy said as he came into the room. He gave a bright, false smile, even while the weight of their expectations bore down on him. "Appreciate the warm welcome." "Please take a seat." Lawson made a pre-prepared gesture toward the head of the long conference table-the seat his parents sat in. Jeremy's heart quickened as he sat, the gazes of the board members piercing his skin. "Let's get down to business," he said, trying to mask a shaking voice with a film of confidence.