The Summer of Chasing Mermaids (11 page)

Chapter 14

Nothing shone through the
blue-gray morning mist but a crooked silver crown.

Standing on the shore where the ocean lathered the sand, Christian waved his trident, a cardboard wrapping-paper tube spiked at the end with three toilet-paper tubes. He was bare chested and barefoot, wearing only a pair of dark gray sweatpants and that crown.

“Fear me, sea-ling!” he roared, pointing the trident at Sebastian.

Dressed in Bermuda shorts and a plastic-coconut bra, the younger Kane squealed and dove behind the nearest dune.

Neither had seen me, and I sat atop the dune at the edge of Lemon's property to spy. Christian was relaxed and happy. Every time Sebastian laughed, Christian lit up too.

It was the first I'd seen him shirtless, confirming my suspicions that his shoulder and upper arm were fully tattooed. It was some sort of
nautical design: a ship and compass, maybe a map. It was all blacks and grays, no garish colors or cartoonish lines. It seemed like such a part of him, almost like he'd come out that way, marked by his love for the sea.

Before I could finish cataloging it for private, late-night recollection, he was gone, zipping around the dunes in search of his brother.

“Looks like you've got a rescuer, little mermaid,” he called to Sebastian, pointing his trident my way.

Heat rushed to my face, but I held my head high, rose from the dune, and approached them as though I'd been on my way all along. In truth I'd been en route to the Kane house, excited to catch Christian early. I'd wanted to tell him about Kirby's state park marina idea.

“Elyse!” Sebastian stretched out his bare arms, two pale fins. The plastic coconuts of his costume squished together. “Get to the sea stack! If Neptune touches you with his trident, you'll turn into sea-foam!”

He took off running toward the rock formations, waving for me to follow. It was low tide, and the beach was littered with sand toys and smooth rocks, orange and lavender starfish lounging in the Oregon haze.

Christian waved the trident threateningly as I passed. “I am Neptune, king of the sea! All shall bow to me!”

Sebastian and I huddled behind the largest sea stack, an ancient black column that rose above its neighbors like a giant crooked fang. Sebastian held my hand tightly, beaming. I'd seen him a few times since our failed mermaid hunt, but always it was on the boat, where I'd been too busy for mermaid sketches and talks of old legends.

He cupped his free hand around his mouth and shouted over the
sound of the waves. “There's only one thing that can stop the evil king of the sea. True love's first kiss.”

My throat went dry, but Sebastian was all giggles and innocence, thrilled with the new twist in the game, and before I could get myself out of that particular mess, Neptune—our tyrannical tattooed king—ducked out from behind an adjacent sea stack.

Sebastian sucked in a breath. “Oh no. He found us.”

Christian's eyes sparkled with mischief. “Did I hear something about a kiss?”

Sebastian sighed. “You can't kiss her until you're married.”

“In that case,” Christian said, laying down his trident and kneeling in the wet sand before me, “I do.”

“Hold on.” Sebastian darted out from the rocks, leaving me alone with my soon-to-be-husband. Overhead, the sun was enjoying a momentary cloudless stretch, bathing us in a swath of golden light.

“If I'd known today would be my wedding day,” Christian said, looking down at his bare chest, “I would've worn something a little more . . . well, more. Alas, if only you'd called first.” His eyes drifted to my hands, lingered on the faintly visible writing he'd left on my palm last night.

Sweet dreams

I folded my fingers into a fist, but before I could think of a response, Sebastian was back with a red bucket full of water.

“Sorry,” he said, breathless. “I had to get some holy water.”

He told me to kneel in the sand next to Christian, and then he dipped his fingers into the water and drew wet, drippy hearts on our foreheads. Then he placed his hands on top of our heads and said, “By the power invested in me, with all the starfish before us, I now announce you god and goddess, king and queen of the sea. Christian—I mean Neptune—you may kiss the mer-bride.”

Christian raised an eyebrow, sea-eyes glittering in the light. “How does the mer-bride feel about this?”

My lips curved into a smile, an old familiar smirk that matched my groom's, and we both knew what it was. A dare. Despite the rapid pounding of my heart, the chill in my legs from the encroaching tide, outside I was still and serene, and I let that smile float between us.

A baited hook, a blessing.

An offering.

A request.

Kiss me, Christian Kane.

The clouds above shifted, dimming the light as Christian leaned forward, bringing with him that freshly showered, mangoes-and-sea scent. His lips brushed so close-but-not-quite-touching, soft and tender as an island breeze. The moment was over quickly; chaste play to Sebastian, but a dangerous tease between me and Christian.

But as he pulled away, looking dazed, I realized I'd been waiting for Sebastian's telltale giggles.

They'd never come.

He was gone.

Caught by a wave, the red bucket tumbled endlessly in the surf.

I shot to my feet, dragging Christian up with me. Without waiting, I took off toward the great cold maw of the sea, eyes scanning frantically. I cupped my hands around my mouth, screamed his name instinctively, but of course no sound came. Only pain, only the reminder.

My heart slammed against my bones, everything in me alight with fear. The bucket lolled in the water, and I told my legs to move. To carry me there. To launch me into the surf so I could swim, dive under, look for him.

But I was frozen on the shore, the water no higher than my knees. Like my voice, my body had abandoned me.

The water had reached the base of the sea stacks, swirling and churning, and from the top of the tallest stack, our crooked fang, the mermaid Atargatis looked on, indifferent. Blue hair swirled around her in the breeze, hiding her face. Her fish tail, silver and aquamarine in the mist, curled out before her.

Help us!
I cried. Behind me the twisted white ribbon of sea-foam hissed, creeping ever colder up the shore.
Why won't you help us?

Atargatis only laughed. Cruel, icy. She shook her head, wild hair parting to reveal bloodred lips.

Hush, hush, little one,
she warned.

Everything you wish for

I will take.

Everything you've ever dared to love

is already mine.

My legs gave out, and I dropped to the water, waiting for the chill that never came.

“Easy, Elyse. Breathe. Just breathe.” Christian's voice was gentle in my ear, his bare chest warm behind me as his strong arms encircled me. He held me like that, whispering against the back of my neck until I calmed down, then he led me out of the shallow water, back to the shore where the tide hadn't yet reached.

When I looked up at the sea stack, Atargatis was gone.

“Okay?” Christian said, scanning my face. Tentatively he reached up, stroked my cheek with his thumb.

I nodded.

“It's just a bucket,” Sebastian said, reaching for my hand. “I've got lots of them. Well, that was my only red one. But I have a blue one and a green one, too.”

Sebastian was here, right here. He'd been here all along. I closed my eyes, inhaled the dense morning air. My body was functioning again, shivering from head to toe. Christian put his arm around me, rubbed my shoulder.

I felt like a freak.

As ever, the ocean laughed behind me. My first great love. My endless torment. How could something I knew so well, something that had been such a part of me, betray me like that? How could such golden, shimmering things so quickly turn black?

But no one could hear the questions in my heart, so I swallowed them down. Tried to smile. To reassure Christian and Sebastian I was fine—just a momentary lapse.

“Boys?” Mr. Kane's deep voice broke through the haze as he crested the nearest dune. I wondered how long he'd been watching us. “Breakfast is almost on the table. Christian, shirt. Let's go.”

“Daddy,” Sebastian said, releasing my hand and running toward his father. “They're married. They kissed and everything.”

With his eyes fixed on Sebastian, Mr. Kane interrupted the story. “Okay, kiddo. Time to put away the toys and wash up for breakfast.” When he looked at me, his smile changed, stretched unnaturally at the corners. “Elyse. Nice to see you again. I assume you'll be joining us?”

Christian looked at me, leaned in close again. His breath fluttered against my ear. “Stay with me.”

The Kane house was laid out like Lemon's, only their main living area was on the ground floor with more rooms upstairs, while Lemon's had the shop and office downstairs. The whole house smelled like maple syrup and coffee. My stomach rumbled as they passed the dishes around the dining table.

“I'm glad you're here, Elyse,” Mr. Kane said. He sat at the head, across from his wife, and each of them had a pile of mobile devices at their fingertips. “I've been thinking about this whole regatta business, and—”

“Here we go,” Christian said. His father flashed him a warning look, but Christian was undeterred. “Dad, unless you're calling off the bet, Elyse and I don't care.”

“Well, that depends on you, Christian,” he said.

Mrs. Kane set her fork down. “Andy, honestly. This is not the time to discuss it.” She tossed a smile in my direction, a reminder of my outsider status. It was the first I'd seen her up close since the Solstice party, and she hadn't warmed a single degree.

I wasn't sure how she and Lemon could be friends, but all Lemon ever said about it was that Meredith's soul had gone faint—that she'd spent so much time cultivating an image, the real her was pushed down, locked away deep inside. Still there, though, Lemon believed, aching to rise.

Next to her, one of the devices buzzed. She reached over and silenced it.

“Thith ith not the time to dithcuth it,” Sebastian lisped. He'd capped his front teeth with a giant strawberry, and I winked at him across the table. Christian laughed.

“Cut it out, guys,” Mr. Kane said. “Anyway, hon, I've been thinking about what Wes told us. About P and D's offers? Neil got twenty ­percent above his appraisal. Maybe we should just sell, skip the whole race.”

“I told you, I don't want to sell.” Mrs. Kane silenced another buzz rattling through her phone. “We've always summered here. The kids—”

“One of the kids is an adult now,” he said. “We have other things to focus on. Christian has a future to think about. I've got a new software release to contend with this fall.” He pointed his fork at his wife. “You're taking on more clients than you can handle as it is. That doesn't leave much time for lazy summer fun.”

Christian shoved in a bite of waffle. With a full mouth he said, “We're doing the regatta, Dad. So this conversation is irrelevant.”

After a beat Mr. Kane nodded. “Assuming you can win. Pass the maple syrup there?”

I reached next to Christian and grabbed it, handed it over.

“I'd stand a better chance if Team Katz hadn't dock-blocked us.” Christian told his parents about yesterday's hardware store adventures.

“Slick bastard,” Mr. Kane said. “Funding his kid's win.” His tone held a note of approval, one that wasn't lost on Christian.

“You put him up to it?” Christian asked his father.

“Simmer down, boys,” Mrs. Kane said. “Elyse, how's Ursula? Will you let her know I'll be there for dinner on the fifth? I haven't had a chance to call her back yet.”

I reached for my notebook so I could jot down a response for her, but remembered that I'd left it at Lemon's. I nodded mutely, took another sip of coffee.

There were so many things I wanted to say. To the parents. The boys. All of them.

“Sounds like you need to step up your game, son,” Mr. Kane said. Next to him, a tablet beeped. He tapped something into the
screen, then turned his attention back to Christian. “Right?”

“Team Katz isn't playing fair,” Christian said. “About what I'd expect from the old man.”

“A lot riding on this race,” Mr. Kane said, going back to his tablet. Mrs. Kane followed suit, checking her phone.

As the parents focused on their digital communications, there was a break in the conversation, an undercurrent of electricity as forks and knives clanked against plates and lips slurped hot coffee. Outside the big floor-to-ceiling windows, the sea was quiet again.

“Enough with the devices,” Christian said. “I see the wheels turning, Dad, so just say it.”

Mr. Kane removed the cloth napkin from his lap and blotted his mouth. To Christian, he said, “I'm thinking about what you just said—that Team Katz isn't playing fair. But you've got a gold card funded by your parents. How is that any different?”