Moondance Beach (18 page)

Duncan had always found sarcasm a complete waste of time. On the other hand, he wasn’t used to putting it all out there with women. But as he looked at Lena standing in front of him, hurt and confusion on her lovely face, he figured he could at least try to give her what she needed.

“Honoring my commitment is not the only reason I’m here.” His eyes shot over to the pencil drawing across the room. “Seeing that picture hit me wrong yesterday. My brain doesn’t work that way—I don’t keep mementos and souvenirs, and I don’t treasure memories of things that happened a long time ago. Seriously, the only trinkets I own are the ones you’ve given me since I’ve been home.”

She tilted her head, listening.

“I think I forgot that day on purpose. I didn’t want any loose ends when I left Bayberry for the Academy. I told myself you were just a nerdy kid who used to visit me when I was sick.”

“I see.”

“But I’m seeing more of the picture now. I remember how good you were to me when I was angry at the world. And I definitely remember that kiss. There was something
unearthly
about it.”

“Unearthly.” Lena’s eyes widened.

“The kiss, not you.”

“I’d have to agree with that assessment.”

Duncan took yet another step toward her, easing her sticky hand into his. “I like you, Lena. I liked you then and I like you now. I can’t say I understand everything between us or what that kiss was all about. But I do know there’s no reason for us to make each other miserable just because we happen to be on Bayberry at the same time.”

Lena lowered her chin. Her dark eyes softened, and she gave him one of those half smiles. “I need fifteen minutes to clean up.” As she walked past him, she kissed his cheek.

It was only then, once Lena had left the room, that Duncan got a good look at the painting she’d been working on.

He took an instinctive step back, his heart suddenly thudding. It was an underwater scene, but this one wasn’t a sparkly fantasyland where mermaids frolicked and sunbeams filtered down from above. This shit was dark.

The world she’d created was black and ugly. Sharks swarmed. The water was streaked with blood. Any plant life looked burned or skeletal—and eight lifeless bodies floated off into the gloom. Though it was a huge leap to make, Duncan was sure this painting was about the ambush. The setting may not have been Afghanistan, but the essence of the image captured it perfectly.

If artists channeled emotions into their work, then there was only one way to interpret this painting. Lena was feeling the pain and horror of war—on Duncan’s behalf. She was grieving with him.

“I’ll be damned,” he mumbled to
himself.

“G
ive me that before you hurt yourself.” Rowan removed a large catering dish full of coleslaw from her mother’s grasp and slipped it into its designated spot on the buffet line. “The caterers are here to do that, Ma. All we have to do is smile and look pretty and throw it on plates as people walk by.”

“Well, they’re running behind schedule.” Mona frowned. “Everything was supposed to be ready by now. People have started to show up.”

“Ma.” Rowan rested her hands on her mother’s shoulders. “People started showing up at two in the afternoon. And they’ll be straggling in until ten. But the food will be served from seven to nine and that’s that. Don’t worry so much.”

Mona shook her head and sighed in frustration. “You know how I get.”

“I know.” Rowan pulled her mother close for a quick hug. It seemed that in the last year she’d aged more than in the previous five put together. Her arthritis flare-ups were more frequent and the unresolved mess with Rowan’s father had drained her. At least her mother had
finally hired a lawyer. It wasn’t what Rowan had hoped for, but at least it was forward movement of some kind.

Her dream was for her parents to be at peace with each other. How exactly they arrived at that peace—still married or finally divorced—was no longer the biggest concern.

Annie and Evelyn had been enlisted to work the buffet line this year and were already at work with Mellie and the caterers. The mermaids began arriving. Polly gave Rowan a big squeeze as soon as she saw her. “You know you’d look even more beautiful in a nice fantail skirt, honey.”

The woman never stopped her campaign to convince Rowan to join the Mermaid Society. She patted Polly’s cheek. “Let it go. I beg you.”

Polly answered with a typical bawdy laugh but hung on to one of Rowan’s hands. “Fine. But it is a sight for my old eyes to see you so happy these days. You have a beautiful family, Rowan Flynn-Wallace. You are blessed.”

Rowan pulled back to get a better look at one of her mother’s truest friends. Unless she was seeing things, Polly was near tears.

“What’s all this?”

Polly sniffed. “Ignore me. I get emotional for no reason nowadays. I wake up some mornings, feel my creaky bones, and just look at myself like
What the fuck?
I’m telling you, getting old is not for pansies.”

Rowan was relieved to hear Polly sounding more like herself. “Scared me there for a minute, Poll.”

Izzy McCracken arrived, along with Abigail Foster, Layla O’Brien, and Barbara Butcher, and all were decked out in their mermaid finery. Rowan had been observing the Bayberry Island Mermaid Society since she
was a toddler and was well acquainted with their costuming hierarchy. The merms had everyday-meeting wear, ritual wear, and festival-week wear. It was during festival week that they pulled out all the stops—longer and glossier wigs, fancier coconuts tied on with sequined ribbon, lots of sea glass and shell jewelry, and elaborately decorated mermaid skirts.

“Does everyone have a food service hat?” Abigail waved a clear plastic elasticized cap over their heads. “We don’t want a repeat of last year, people! No long polyester hair in the pasta salad!”

The ladies continued on with the jobs at hand. Ma had been right—guests were swarming in. Rowan looked out on a sea of round banquet tables arranged on the beach to see that there were few seats left. At least there was very little wind coming off the ocean this year. Nothing was more aggravating than trying to keep sand out of the crab cakes and clams casino.

Suddenly, Rowan heard her mother gasp. Her first thought was that she’d fallen and she immediately went to find her. But no. Ma was upright, staring at the line of guests coming down the beach stairs, her mouth wide-open.

Polly wandered up to stand behind Mona. “Holy hopscotching Jesus,” she whispered.

A loud crashing sound caused Rowan to turn around—Mellie had just lost hold of a stainless-steel tub of condiments. It had clattered to the table and sent packets of ketchup, tartar sauce, and cocktail sauce shooting to the four corners of the food tent. She held her hand to her heart.
“Oh, meu Dues!”

Rowan spun around, looking for the source of all this shock and awe. She found it. Duncan looked positively
studly in a crisp white button-down shirt and a pair of dark jeans. On his arm was Lena, relaxed, smiling, and draped in a pale yellow sundress.

Rowan waved frantically for Annie and Evelyn to stand next to her.

Evelyn grabbed Rowan’s arm. “Am I hallucinating?”

“O to the MG.” Annie got out her smartphone and began taking pictures.

Rowan was horrified. “What are you doing?”

“Nat won’t believe me unless I have proof.”

By that time, the rest of the merms had abandoned their volunteer stations to cluster near Mona. There was a great deal of whispering and shushing going on.

Duncan gently cradled Lena’s arm in the crook of his elbow. Lena’s loose hair fell over her shoulders and brushed against Duncan’s shirt. The fact that Duncan didn’t immediately adjust for more personal space shocked Rowan.

“He’s so freakin’ handsome,” Annie said.

Everyone watched, their heads turning in silent admiration as Lena and Duncan headed out toward the tables. Duncan found two seats together and pulled out Lena’s chair, then tucked her in once seated.

Rowan began smacking Annie’s forearm. “Look at him! He’s a perfect gentleman! Did you just see that?”

The women watched Duncan lean down and whisper in Lena’s ear. It seemed as if he was asking her what she’d like to drink.

“Holy shit—he’s going to the bar! He’s getting her a cocktail!” Annie kept snapping away.

Rowan turned her attention to her mother. Right there, not ten feet away in the sand, she saw something she’d never seen in her life. Mona Flynn and Imelda
Silva stood with their arms around each other, their heads inclined and touching. It wasn’t that they didn’t like each other, because they had loved each other for a long time. But Mellie and Mona had never behaved like BFFs.

Though it was possible she would be intruding, Rowan came to stand with the two women.

“What do you make of that, Rowan?”

“I’m not sure, Ma.”

Mellie shook her head and mumbled to herself in Portuguese.

“C’mon, now, Mellie. You can’t keep your thoughts to yourself.” Mona wasn’t letting the moment slip by.

“I said . . .” she shook her head. “I never thought I would see my Lena . . . Her men friends have always just been stories to me, when she spoke of them at all. She certainly never brought anyone home to meet me.”

“Same for Duncan.” Mona chuckled. “Maybe they have always preferred the ones already
at
home.”

The women watched Duncan bring a glass of wine to Lena and sit down next to her. The pair talked and laughed. Duncan leaned forward and whispered something to her and Lena nodded. For the first time ever, Rowan saw her brother as just a guy—a normal guy.

She thought back to a conversation the three siblings had once had. It was at Clancy’s wedding to his bat-shit-crazy first wife. Rowan and her brothers were hanging out on the patio of the reception location, and Clancy must have been feeling lucky, because he decided to give Duncan a hard time.

“Do you think you’ll ever get married, bro?”

Duncan scanned the summertime surroundings with a stoic, manly expression, modeling his Navy dress
whites. Rowan figured he was doing his best impression of
An Officer and a Gentleman.
“The topic doesn’t even interest me,” he replied.

Duncan and Rowan laughed.

“I guess you’re just too type A for marriage,” Rowan suggested.

“Yeah,” Clancy said. “If ‘A’ is for asshole.”

As Rowan watched Duncan now, smiling and laughing with his body and face relaxed, she knew they had been hard on him. Clancy’s wedding day wasn’t long after Duncan had returned from his first tour in Afghanistan. They’d had no idea what was going on in his head or his heart, and Duncan clearly hadn’t been able to share it. They had been jerks to him.

“Well, lookie here. Our last success story.” Polly slipped in next to Rowan. She sighed with deep satisfaction. “We should pat ourselves on the back for a job well done on this one, girls.”

“Polly!” Mona dropped from Mellie’s embrace and turned, her face bright pink with anger. “Shut up,” she hissed.

When was the last time anyone had ever heard Mona Flynn say those two words? Never.

Izzy stepped forward. “I don’t see the harm at this point, Mona. It’s not like we’re going to get any more opportunities to see the results of our work.”

“What are you talking about?” Mellie asked. She put her hands on her hips. “Did you mess with Adelena?”

“Oh, for God’s sake, everyone.” Polly shook her head. “We’ll be defunct by October anyway, so what does it matter?”

“Maybe this really is our last happy ending,” Layla said,
her lips trembling. “We’ve certainly had a good run—Annie and Nat, Rowan and Ash, Clancy and Evie . . .”

Mona hissed,
“Shut. Up.”

Rowan rubbed her forehead. Her brain hurt. What was going on here? Were the merms taking credit for her marriage? That of Annie and Nat? And her brother and Evie? Now? After they’d spent years vigorously denying any meddling? Rowan had to laugh—these women were ridiculous.

One of the caterers waved her arms to get Rowan’s attention. She began tapping at her wristwatch.

“Defunct?” Rowan scanned the faces of the mermaids. “What do you mean by
defunct
?”

Mona shook her head. Polly turned away.

“We’ve decided to shut down the Mermaid Society after all the loose ends are tied up from this festival week. We’re going to close the books, cancel our nonprofit status, and just put an end to it.”

A low humming went through Rowan’s body. The news shocked her.

“Say what?” Annie asked.

Polly shrugged. “You know, we’re going to pull the plug. Why should we hang around and die a little more every day?”

Rowan’s gaze flashed to her mother. “What is she talking about?”

Mona’s mouth was tight, and she had crossed her arms over her coconuts. She was angry, angry, angry.

Abigail spoke up. “Mona, don’t be mad at Polly for telling the truth.”

“Ma?”

“Fine!” Mona took a deep breath and addressed
Rowan. “By unanimous vote, we have decided we’re an anachronism—a throwback to another time—and we are no longer relevant in today’s society. We’ve decided it’s time for us to let it go.”

Annie, Evelyn, and Rowan shared a glance. Annie said, “But there’s been a Mermaid Society as long as there’s been a mermaid.”

“That is incorrect,” Izzy said. “The fountain was unveiled in 1885, and the Mermaid Society was not born until three years later.”

“Well, it still seems kind of drastic to end it now,” Evelyn said. “Don’t you all enjoy getting together? I always thought it was a kind of girls club.”

“Not quite,” Mona said.

“We’re getting old, Annie.” Abigail addressed the younger women. “And, Rowan, your mother deserves to relax at this point in her life. The truth is, now that Darinda went back to the mainland, we have no choice.”

“Nobody wants to be president,” Barbara said.

Layla concurred. “We are worn the hell
out.
By now every one of us has some kind of sensitivity.”

Rowan cupped her mother’s elbow in her palm. “I didn’t know you were planning to do this. It’s so . . . permanent.”

Mona’s eyes flashed with grief. “There is not a living soul to hand the society over to, let alone a woman who understands its history and respects its role in the culture of our island.”

Suddenly, it all made sense to Rowan. She looked over to see Annie gazing skyward and Evelyn shaking her head.

“I see. So this is a guilt trip. You’re trying to make the
three of us feel guilty because we’ve always said weren’t interested in joining.”

“No, my dear daughter.” Mona shook her head. “It’s not a guilt trip. It’s the truth. I’m sixty-nine. Polly will be turning sixty—”

“Hey, hey. Watch it.”

Mona continued. “And anyway, it’s not just that you haven’t shown interest, Rowan. You have repeatedly ridiculed our sacred mission and called us crazy for believing in the powers of the Goddess of the Sea.”

Rowan felt Annie move closer.

“You and Annie have considered yourselves above becoming members of the Mermaid Society. So, even if you suddenly decided you wanted to join us, we could not, in good conscience, leave the mystery of the mermaid in your hands.”

Izzy pursed her lips in the direction of Rowan, Annie, Evie, then said, “Oh, snap!”

*   *   *

“I’d ask you join me on a walk, but I think it’d be a little crowded.”

Lena glanced at their tirelessly attentive audience and chuckled. From the moment they’d arrived, Lena and Duncan had been inspected, evaluated, and speculated upon by nearly every woman serving at the food tent—Lena’s mother included.

Whatever thoughts were going on in Imelda Silva’s head, Lena was sure she’d hear all about them.