The pot bubbles and steams as I stir the liquid, boiling the water hot. Tiny bubbles pop up and float, temping me to touch them with my finger. I clench my fist tight, holding back the urge.

With a sigh, I set the spoon down and rest my forehead on the hard cabinet, letting the sound of boiling water flush my worries away.

I can almost imagine waves creasing past my head and fish flouncing by. Coral and sea grass drifts in the wind and tiny sand particles are dragged deep throughout the ocean. I imagine the soft humming of the whales in the distance and splashes of fellow divers.

“Madeline?” Grandpa called. I snapped out of my daydream and leaned back from the counter.

“Yes, Grandpa?”

“Is the water coming?”

“Of course!”

Diving would have to wait.