Derrolyn Anderson - [Marinas Tales #1] - Between The Land And The Sea (22 page)

You can thank me later.”

“Oh stop it,” I said, blushing.

Ethan was the only person who knew the whole truth about me, and I was relieved that he seemed to take it so well. I don’t know what kind of reaction I expected, but he was so kind and sweet about everything that I felt like I could breathe for the first time in weeks. I didn’t realize how crushing the weight of secrets could be; I’d never had anything to hide before.

I apologized profusely to Megan and Cruz, feeling terribly guilty about putting them through so much and forcing them to cover for me. They had become the best possible friends and confidantes; I smiled darkly to myself, thinking about how this was exactly what my father had wanted for me. I made a vow to never again involve anyone else in my quest for answers. This was my problem and I’d have to find a way to deal with it by myself.

The desire to know more about my mother was not going away, and now I had an entirely new set of questions. As much as I knew that I should let it go, I also knew that there was probably no way I could. Lorelei felt like my only link to the past.

Things at school changed dramatically. Shayla and her crew left us all alone, and the atmosphere was no longer hostile. The surfer crowd was even guardedly friendly, and I was treated with respect. They all believed that I had single-handedly rescued Shayla. I could only imagine what they’d think if they knew the truth.

Ethan kept my secret, and I was a little surprised that he didn’t seem put off by it. We always sat together in art class, and I looked forward to it more than I wanted to admit. I was so physically aware of him that every time we brushed up against each other I caught my breath. It seemed to me like he took every little opportunity to touch me, but I doubted he had any idea at all of how much he affected me.

Spending time with Ethan was a welcome distraction, but it still wasn’t enough to keep me from obsessing about my mother. I needed to understand how I came to be. How could she have possibly met my father, much less communicated with him? All the questions I’d ever had about my mother came rushing back to me, dredged up from the murky depths of my mind, trailed by bitter memories of being shut down by my father for even daring to ask.

I had someone else to ask now. As frustrating as talking to Lorelei was, I sensed she had no reason to keep anything from me. Unfortunately, the other mermaid made it even more dangerous for me to try and find her again. Clearly, meeting with me had gotten Lorelei into trouble with the mystifying sisterhood of mermaids.

I fretted about what might have happened to her, remembering the angry mermaid’s words.

“Forbidden”, she had said, and I guessed that maybe Lorelei had broken some kind of mermaid rule about not contacting humans. There had to be a way to meet with her secretly and safely, for now that I’d had a small taste of the truth I needed more.

It started to prey on my mind again, making me edgy and restless.

I worried about Ethan too. What if he came across the other, angry mermaid? He spent a lot of time in the water. Would she do anything to him? She hadn’t harmed me, but then again, she’d been busy attacking Lorelei. I kept going over all the stories of evil murderous mermaids–

the ones that Megan was so focused on. The thought of them hurting Ethan filled me with a strange mix of intense anger and icy cold fear that tightened my throat.

I imagined calling my father and demanding the truth, and it made me sick to my stomach. I knew I needed to talk to him, to hear his voice, to find the nerve to ask him about my mother. I kept putting it off and coming up with excuses to procrastinate. I knew it was crazy, but I was more afraid to confront my father than I was to head out to sea with a mermaid that had nearly done me in. I was a total basket case, I thought, contemplating my next move.

What I couldn’t manage to avoid was the beach. I stayed off the pier, but I found myself spending hours walking barefoot along the sandy shore, haunted by unresolved questions. Maybe it was my way to feel connected to my mother, but walking through the foamy surf was soothing, and I was better able to relax after my walks. I wanted answers, but all I had was a huge collection of beach glass. As I stared out over the horizon I had a strong urge to go surfing again.

One blustery fall day I rambled home after a long walk, surprised to find Abby sitting at the kitchen table with her head in her hands, sobbing. I paused for a moment, shocked at such an incongruous sight. Sweet, gentle Abby, who had a seemingly infinite capacity for happiness and patience... crying?

“Aunt Abby, what happened?” I blurted out, startling her. She wiped her eyes, struggling for composure.

“Oh Marina,” she sniffed, “I’ve made a terrible mistake– and now...” She started crying again, “Cruz hates me.”

I sat down and took her hand, “That’s not possible, Aunt Abby,” I said sincerely. She gestured to a letter sitting on the table. It was addressed to Cruz, from a law firm in Argentina.

The letter stated that Cruz Vanderpool was one of the beneficiaries of the estate of Federico Acosta, who had passed away the prior month. It requested that Cruz contact the office to arrange for the disbursement of the funds.

“What is this?” I asked Abby, “What does it mean?”

Abby looked up at me with red rimmed eyes, “Federico, is... was… Cruz’s father.”

“But I thought he was... I mean, I thought he died before Cruz was born.”

“I lied about that,” she said, gulping down a sob, “And now Cruz is so upset...” I was stunned, and took a moment for it to sink in, “I don’t understand, what happened?” Abby took a shuddering breath and told me her story. She was eighteen, a college student at the university in Santa Cruz. She had fallen in love with Federico, a visiting professor of Latin American literature. He was much older and more sophisticated than her, and before she knew it she was in way over her head. Abby found herself pregnant with Cruz when she discovered that he was married with a family in Argentina.

“He tried to give me money,” she said, “He didn’t want me to keep the baby. When he left I didn’t know what to do. Martin came to the rescue.”

“What did dad do?” I asked.

Abby smiled through her tears, “He bought me this place, and helped me get back on my feet.” She sighed, “When Cruz was old enough to ask... I just thought it was for the best. I never expected to hear from him ever again.”

“How did Cruz take it?” I wondered, worrying about him. She looked at me in anguish.

“Would you go see how he is?” she asked, blinking at me with tortured eyes. I leaned over and gave her a hug.

“It’ll be alright,” I said.

I went down the hall and knocked gently on Cruz’s door.

“Go away!” he yelled.

“Cruz, it’s me, Marina.”

He opened the door a crack and I could tell that he’d been crying. “Did she tell you?” I nodded, and he let me in. The letter had come as a tremendous shock to him. He felt betrayed and confused.

“My father has been alive all this time and he never even wanted to see me...”

“You don’t know that,” I said gently, “Maybe he was afraid to hurt his family, or–” Cruz looked at me sarcastically, “He knew about me, he could have picked up a phone.”

“He remembered you in his will. He didn’t have to do that.”

“Guilty conscience,” he said dismissively.

“Cruz, your mom feels terrible. She was only a kid. She was our age...” He sighed, “I know, it just came as a total shock– to find out your whole life has been a lie.” I knew exactly how he felt.

“She was only trying to protect you,” I said, thinking about my dad.

“You’re lucky you’re dad never lied to you!” he cried.

I looked at him sadly, “You never know.”

He was starting to look more sad than mad, “I knew they never got married or anything, but she told me he died in a car crash!” Cruz emoted passionately, reminding me of Evie, “It’s just so completely out of the blue.”

“I know what you need! Come with me to visit my Aunt Evie. It’s impossible to feel bad around her, and we need to show her your clothes.” We hatched a plan to go to the city on Saturday, and he seemed to feel a little better. I turned to leave, “Cruz, you should talk to your mom.”

“I will,” he said.

I went back out to find Abby sitting in the garden. She looked up hopefully, “How is he?”

“He’ll be fine. He just needs some time.”

She smiled wanly, fidgeting with a string of beads around her neck.

I sat down and casually asked, “Abby, what was my father like back then? I mean, back before I was born.”

She looked thoughtful, “We lost our parents when we were very young. Martin was so strong– he always looked out for me. I don’t know where I’d be if it wasn’t for him.”

“Abby, what do you know about my mother?”

She saddened, paused and said, “I only met her once.” She looked at me solemnly, “The day you were born.”

I pressed her, “Tell me about that day.”

She sized me up, speculating as to whether I was ready to hear the story. She nodded.

“I got a call from Martin– he was beside himself. He was calling from a hospital in San Francisco. At first I thought he was hurt, but then he blurted out that his wife was in labor, and things were going badly. He was so upset... I never heard him sound so desperate.” She explained that dad had never told her about his whirlwind romance and marriage.

“I don’t know where he met her, but I guess it was love at first sight. They just eloped without telling anyone. I figured he didn’t want to hurt me, because of... well, you know. Cruz was six months old then. I loaded him in the car and hurried to the hospital.”

“And you met her,” I said.

“Yes. When I got there your dad was a wreck. I talked to the doctor and he said there were complications, and that she had refused to end the pregnancy despite the warnings. He said she wanted to see me...” her voice caught in her throat, “Your dad was in no shape to do anything, so I brought Cruz in with me to see her... Adria.” She paused, sighing sadly.

“Go on,” I urged.

“She was so beautiful… you look just like her. She was terribly pale, but her eyes– her eyes were happy, triumphant. When she saw Cruz, she just lit up. She touched her belly and told me that you were a girl, and that your name was Marina. She said I would need to help Martin. She wanted to hold Cruz, but the monitor went off...” her eyes filled with tears as her voice trailed off.

“Keep going,” I said, intense.

“They hustled me out of the room, and things just went wrong,” she looked at me sadly,

“And you were born. Your dad just fell apart. It was scary– I’d never seen him like that. I filled out the forms to give you the name she picked. Martin was totally numb with grief. He kept saying it was his fault, he should have left her alone...” It was hard for me to imagine my dad like that. He was always so even-keeled, steady and calm.

“He loved her so much he just kinda shut down. He was in no shape to take care of a baby. I stayed at the hospital that night and took you home with Cruz the next day.” She looked at me with a sad smile, “Your dad threw himself into his work, his traveling. I think he was afraid to see you, to be reminded of her. One day when you were about nine months old Martin showed up.”

“So I used to live here.” I wasn’t much surprised. I had been comfortable here from the first moment I arrived.

Abby went on, “He took one look at you and it was like the fog lifted. I could see his heart healing right before my eyes. The two of you bonded instantly. He moved in with us for a few weeks and when he left he took you with him.”

“Where did he take me?” I asked.

“He had just gotten an endowment at the university, and he moved you into the San Francisco apartment,” she smiled sadly at the memory, “It broke my heart to let you go, but I could see that you belonged together. Poor Cruz, he missed you so much.” I was quiet for a moment, “Thanks for telling me, Abby.” We hugged each other and I looked up to see Cruz standing there. I left them alone and went to my room.

I had figured that my mother wanted me, but now I knew she had knowingly sacrificed her life for mine. It was sad to hear how much her death had affected my dad. Hearing the story made it easier to forgive him for not telling me the truth, and the little flame of resentment I was harboring flickered out. Now I missed the mother I had never known even more, and understanding my father, felt closer to him.

I was a half-mermaid hybrid, but he was only human after all.

That Friday, Ethan walked me to the parking lot, asking me what I was doing on Saturday. I told him that Cruz and I had planned a trip to the city, wondering if he was thinking about going surfing again. I wanted to surf so badly I could taste it, but I’d already called Evie, and I knew she was busy planning our day together.

“Do you miss it?” he asked, “Living in the city?”

“There’s a lot to do there,” I said, thinking about the museums and theaters. “But I miss Evie, and that’s who we’re going to see.”

He looked thoughtful, “When are you moving back?” he asked.

“My dad gets home this summer,” I said, “But you never know with him, we usually go where his latest project takes him.”

“What about college?” he asked.

“I don’t know... Cruz is going to design school in San Francisco, and I want him to move in with us. Maybe I’ll stay in the city and go to school with him.” We walked slowly to the parking lot.

“Have you talked to your dad yet?” he asked, stopping me in my tracks. After my talk with Abby I was even more fearful of upsetting him. I was afraid he might send me away from Aptos to keep from having to deal with the truth– taking away any chance I had of finding out more.

The one thing I knew for sure was that he didn’t behave rationally when the subject of my mother came up.

“No,” I said looking down, forced to face my fears, “We write e-mails back and forth, but I–

I’ve been putting off calling. I think I should see him face to face to really... talk.”

“You must miss him,” Ethan said.

“Do you know what I miss?” I said, wanting to forget about my father, “Surfing!” He smiled at me.