Authors: Elizabeth A Reeves
“And you ended up here.” His voice was flat, his expression stony. It wasn’t a question, so I didn’t feel like I needed to answer it.
The boat skimmed lightly over the water. The steady rhythm of the oars in the water lulled me to sleep. I had not slept in so long… if my jump into the ocean wasn’t, indeed, a dream, then it likely was a hallucination brought on from not sleeping enough since I lost my father.
I woke to the scraping sound of wood on wood and the jingle of dog tags as Kip leapt from the boat onto a dock.
I rubbed my eyes, staring around me. I could feel my mouth drop open in surprise. A sudden wisp of chill slid across my skin. I couldn’t help feeling like I was stepping into a fairy tale.
The docks led up to a lovely blue and grey cottage. It was small and quaint, lined with stones, all neatly and perfectly arranged. The house was surrounded by red and white flowers and the dripping beauty of a large willow tree. Window boxes, at every side, were overflowing with an abundance of green. I wondered what magazine I had stepped into.
Fairytale Lodgings
, perhaps?
“This is your home?” I heard myself asking, as Devin reached out a hand to pull me up onto the dock. I tried to ignore the way he wiped off his hand, after touching me. I could feel my cheeks flaming. How had I managed to offend him in such a short amount of time?
Devin looked up at the cottage, as if seeing it for the first time. “It’s home,” he affirmed.
Home. The word hit me in the pit of my stomach. It was such a simple word, but it stood for everything I had lost. I no longer had a home to return to, a family to be with. I wondered if I would ever have a real home again. It didn’t seem possible, without my father.
I swallowed a lump in my throat that I hadn’t even realized had been there. I tucked a non-existent strand of hair behind my ear, hoping that there was no tell-tale brightness in my eyes. I had a horrible suspicion that my nose had just turned scarlet, as it always did when I was about to cry.
The back door of the cottage opened towards us and a woman with dark hair, streaked with a thick stripe of white over her brow, came out to meet us, Kip running around her legs and wagging his tail happily. She, like her house, looked like she was out of an old magazine, with her simple dress and quaint white apron, drawn up around her as she wiped her hands clean on the edge.
She shaded her eyes against the glare of the light on the water. She waved eagerly at Devin, then seemed to spot me. Her face grew puzzled. She hesitated for a moment, though she smiled and started forward again after merely a moment.
“Did you find a selkie-maid in the surf and steal her from the sea, then?” She called, laughter filling her beautiful and vivid dark blue eyes. Her voice was warm and lilting, almost Irish in its cadence. The warmth of her voice translated into the friendly and open expression of her face.
Devin wrinkled his snub-nose at her, his expression stern. “Ma, this is Meg Tanner. She’ll be staying here… helping you out, if you don’t mind. She has no money, and no place to go.”
“You don’t have to take me,” I said, feeling suddenly very shy and awkward at being thrown at her like this.
“Nonsense,” She said, briskly, “I’d love to have you. I don’t get many woman visitors and it will be a nice change from my churlish son here.”
I was surprised to see Devin’s face flush to match his bright hair.
“Meg’s father recently died,” Devin said, abruptly. “I found Meg near the old cottage.”
His mother stepped back a pace and seemed to study me with a closer look. She let out a bark of laughter. “Perhaps I wasn’t far off the mark, then?”
Devin shook his head, a tight, little movement, clearly trying to keep her from continuing on.
“Oh, where are my manners?” She exclaimed, tossing back her salt and pepper hair like a young girl. “I’m Maureen… please call my Maura. Everyone does, even my son. It’s close enough to ‘Mama’ as never mind, and I do prefer it.”
“Ok… Maura,” I said, shyly. “Thank you… I don’t know where I would go if your son hadn’t said I could stay here. I suppose… I left my car somewhere…”
“Devin will help you get settled,” Maura said, brightly. “Just be back for dinner. I’m making crab that came home on the boat this very evening.”
Devin jerked his head towards the house for me to follow, the sunlight touching on the freckles that crowded across his nose. He strode forward quickly, and I, again, had to hurry to keep up with his long strides.
He opened the door for me, ushering me ahead of him, his hand pushing impatiently at the small of my back, as if he couldn’t be through with this unwelcome chore quickly enough.
“You’ll stay here,” he said, gruffly, opening a door for me to catch a glimpse of a bed with a homemade spread.
“Um, the bathroom?” I ventured, embarrassed. I didn’t know how long I had been in the cottage, but I needed to take care of some pressing business.
Devin stabbed a finger towards a door across the hallway from my room and I made my escape with relief.
In the bathroom, I emptied my all too full bladder and splashed water on my face. My heart pounded in me chest. I felt lost and overwhelmed.
“What are you doing here?” I asked my reflection in the mirror.
My reflection just shrugged.
Chapter Three
Devin was waiting for me, impatiently, in the hallway. “I guess we’d better see to your car,” he said.
His voice was full of exasperation. If I had had any idea where I was, and where my car might be, I would have just taken care of it myself, without his reluctant help.
Outside, I was again forced to trot to keep up with Devin’s determined march. The long skirts of my dress tangled clumsily in my legs, slowing me down even further. He stopped, sighing, to let me catch up.
“My Da’s dead, too,” he said, abruptly. “He died when I was ten—it was a shock—changed my world. I’m sorry for your loss.” He looked away from me, his eyes off towards the horizon. “You don’t have a mother, do you?”
I shook my head, unable to speak around the stone in my throat. I rubbed at it, trying to ease the ache. It hurt so much, I had to stop and bend over, trying to breathe. When I could, I raised myself up again, pretending that nothing had happened. I could see the concern on Devin’s face, but that just made me feel like crying even more, even if it was probably more out of worry that he would have a crying girl on his hands, rather than that he felt sympathy for me. I somehow doubted that he was a very sympathetic person in general.
“No… I don’t have a mother. She drowned when I was a baby. I don’t remember her. It was just me and Dad, and now…”
I couldn’t finish the sentence. Now I was completely alone. We had been so happy together, just the two of us. Losing Dad had been like losing half of myself—my father, my best friend, my whole world—just stripped from me as bark from a young birch-tree. My heart was exposed, completely raw, and I was afraid that at the slightest thing it would break completely.
“I’m sorry,” Devin said, his voice surprisingly soft.
I glanced up at him, startled at the change in his tone, but his face was turned away from me and I couldn’t see his expression.
“Can we talk about something else?” My voice sounded ridiculously high, even to myself. “Anything else? I don’t think I can… do this right now.”
Devin turned his head and stared at me.
I felt hysteria bubble up in a flood of words. “Um, I guess I should tell you about me, if I’m going to be living with your mother. I ride… used to ride… a lot. I had my own pony for about thirteen years. We used to go everywhere together. I never really got along with the kids at school, so it was pretty much me and him all the time. His name was Coal.” I closed my eyes, smiling as the memories brought back the rough feel of his shaggy mane under my fingers and the sweet scent of pony.
“I had a pony too,” Devin said, surprisingly. “My Da wanted to make sure I could ride. We still have him in the back pasture, though he mostly just bosses the horses around these days.”
“You have horses?” I felt a leap of hope in my chest. Perhaps I really was supposed to be around here.
Devin raised an eyebrow at my enthusiasm and I felt a blush creep up across my face. “Yes, we have three of them, other than my old pony, Dragon. Once you get settled I’ll take you out with me. They could use the exercise. Maura doesn’t ride much these days… my Da died on horseback.” He said it with a matter of fact tone. I wondered if I would ever be able to say that my father was dead so casually.
Our walking had brought us closer to town and I actually was beginning to recognize the sights—the wharf where the ferry had come in was right in front of me. Tourists milled around the harbor, the air full of their voices and the cry of gulls, soaring over our heads. The wind was brisk and I crossed my arms over my chest, feeling the bite of chill in the air through the soft fabric of my mysterious dress.
I quickly found my old car, crouching near the corner of the nearest street as if it were ashamed of itself. I was surprised by how good it felt to find it—some piece of something I knew, there in front of me—part of the old life that seemed so very far away from here. Even the rust stains and chipped paint made me feel warm inside. My sad little car was my last little piece of home.
My car’s interior condition caused me to blush again.
The floor was littered with wrappers from all the fish sandwiches I had consumed on my drive. My few possessions—clothes, a few books and photographs, were flung helter-skelter across the back seat. I shoved a pair of my underwear under the seat, hoping that Devin didn’t see.
I had left the door unlocked and the keys in the ignition, but no one had disturbed the vehicle at all. I grinned wryly. Grace was on my side in this, at least.
Devin surveyed my mess and cleared himself a seat, dumping fast food containers on the floor, leaning back, perfectly at ease.
“I like it,” he said.
“You’ve got to be joking!” I blurted. I had been teased at school for my rusty old heap of junk.
“I like old things,” Devin said, seriously. “This car has character. It has personality.”
“It doesn’t have shocks,” I warned. “So, be forewarned.” I shifted into gear and eased onto the road.
Dinner was delicious.
Dad had always talked about how fresh seafood was the best way to eat it, but I had never even imagined the velvety-sweet flavor of the crab that Maura had prepared for dinner. It was a simple meal—crab, brown rice, and asparagus, grown only feet from the back door. Everything was flavored with the salty air of the ocean and I could hear the breath and sigh of the tide so nearby. It made me feel relaxed, whole, for the first time in so long.
Conversation was awkward, I was too tired and overwhelmed to speak brilliantly about anything, and Devin seemed completely preoccupied by his dinner.
Maura sat comfortably, her long-fingered hands curled around a mug of what smelled like chamomile tea, with something else. She didn’t press any questions on me, didn’t ask for an excuse for my poverty, she just filled my plate and smiled beneficently from her side of the table.
Despite the loveliness of the food, I was scarcely halfway into my meal before my eyelids started to droop on their own. Other than a brief nap on Devin’s boat, I had no idea how long it had been since I had actually slept.
“I should put my things away,” I murmured, hiding a yawn behind my hand.
Maura reached across the table to pat my hand. “Go to sleep,” she told me, warmly. “It’s good to have you here.”
I managed to nod to her in thanks and stumble to the room that she had given me. Exhaustion flooded through me. I couldn’t even pull back the homemade quilt that draped across the bed. I threw myself down, just grateful for a flat surface to sleep on, and I was out.
I dreamt I was swimming.
I danced and twirled through the silvery water, as if I had been born to be one with the element. My skin was strange and new to me, smooth and dark, sleek in the water. I swirled around, surrounded by silver moonlit bubbles.
I laughed, surfacing, and turned my face to the sky. The moon smiled down at me, its pure light kissing the waves around me until they were all burnished with white flame.
I spotted a small figure on the shore and swam closer to investigate.
The young girl from the cottage was sitting on the shore, smiling enigmatically as she spun her dark cords. Her hands were moving swiftly, twisting the strange fibers together before rolling them onto a growing ball. She hardly glanced at me, so engrossed in her work was she.
I waved happily to her, begging her to join me in the water, to luxuriate in it as I was, but she kept spinning, not even pausing in her work.
Heavy with disappointment, I turned back to the water. Gold and silver light flowed through the sea, beacons of color that called out to me. I could not resist the siren call. I dove deeper, trying to see where the golden light came from.