Real Mermaids 2 - Don't Hold Their Breath (9 page)

Cori was snoring by the time Dad came by to check on me. A quick glance at my alarm clock told me it was nearly 1 a.m.

“Sleeping?” Dad asked quietly. He collapsed into the wicker chair beside my bed and rubbed his hands over his face.

“Not really.” I turned over, yanking the blankets back from Cori since she'd wrapped herself up like a mummy. Total blanket hog. Cori grunted something about razor clams and circus clowns and went back to her snoring. “What did you find out?”

“Thankfully, civic bylaws don't allow construction in public places on the weekends, so your mom should be safe until Monday, at least. Maybe we can figure out how to get in there in the meantime.”

“Good luck with that,” I said, rubbing my eyes. “Did you know there's a ten-foot barbed-wire fence surrounding the tidal pool? Luke thinks they're hiding something.”

“Yeah, about Luke.” Dad paused for a second. “He is, um, just a friend, right?”

“Well.” I wasn't sure what to say. Was Luke more than just a friend? He was my first kiss but that was over three weeks ago. He'd held my hand today but said what he really needed was a friend who understood him.

“Because I'm not sure if I'm okay with my little girl dating.” Dad stood and paced a bit but bumped into my dresser in the dark and stubbed his toe. “Oh, ouch.”

“Wha…?” Cori sat up in bed and waved her head back and forth, her eyes still closed. “Is the clam in the bucket? Did the clown put the clam in the bucket?” she babbled.

“Go back to sleep, Cori,” I said quietly.

She lay back down and kept snoring.

“I'm not exactly a little girl anymore, Dad. Lots of girls date at fourteen.”

“What are you saying? When did you go on a date with this boy? Why don't I know anything about this?” Dad asked.

“It wasn't a date, exactly. We just—well, we kissed that one time, but that doesn't mean—”

“You kissed?” Dad's “whisper” was loud enough to wake the neighbors, but Cori slept on, oblivious. He paced back and forth at the end of my bed, rubbing his head as he walked. “No, no, no. I am not comfortable with this. There's lots of time for that.
Lots
of time.”

That's when I started getting mad. Here I was pretty much taking care of myself ever since Mom disappeared the summer before. I was a model student (except for last term), a model daughter (if you didn't look at the mess under my bed), and pretty much cooked every meal we ate in this house (my Hot Pockets were especially delicious). Where did Dad get off saying I wasn't mature enough to date? That was what he was saying, wasn't it?

“Are you telling me I
can't
date?” I asked.

Dad sat back down and shook his head hopelessly. “I'd just rather you wait. Yes. Just wait until your mom gets home.”

“But—”

Dad stood and made his getaway before I could say anything. Last time I saw him move that fast, he was being chased by a cloud of wasps.

•••

Cori sat at a stool at the kitchen island the next morning, sprawled across the countertop. I poured her a glass of orange juice and placed it in front of her. She flashed me a peace sign without looking up.

I grabbed a bag of peas from the freezer and held it out for her. “Here, put this on your knee.”

“I'll be fine,” Cori mumbled, but her knee was swollen to the size of a small watermelon from jumping off the construction truck and she could barely walk. I dropped the bag of frozen peas in her lap anyway. “Oh geesh! That's cold!” she cried.

“That's the point,” I teased and pointed to her leg. “Twenty minutes!”

“All right, all right!” Cori placed the peas on her knee. “When did you get so bossy?”

“Just giving you a taste of your own medicine.” I poured some Sugar-Os in a couple bowls and got the milk from the fridge.

Just then, Dad came into the kitchen to refill his cup of coffee. “Good morning, ladies.”

“Good morning, Mr. B.,” Cori said.

“What's with the peas?” he asked.

“My knee's just a little stiff. It'll be fine once I get to work,” Cori said.

Dad looked from Cori to me. “Oh, no. You shouldn't go to work with an injury like that. Jade would be happy to do your shift today since you filled in for her yesterday afternoon, wouldn't you, Jade?”

“But—” I began. The last thing I wanted to do was spend the day scooping ice cream when Mom was floating in a tidal pool behind Port Toulouse Mall, but the look on Dad's face suggested I didn't have much of a choice in the matter. “Of course. I'll take your shift, Cori.”

“You sure?” Cori raised her head from the counter.

“I'm sure. It's the
mature
thing to do.” I eyed Dad, making sure he caught my drift from the conversation we'd had the night before.

“Cool.” Cori flopped back onto the counter and closed her eyes.

“Jade.” Dad sighed as he poured a bit of milk in his coffee. “I know you're not happy with how we left things last night.”

“You mean the part about how I'm not allowed to date?” I grabbed a couple spoons from the cutlery drawer and jabbed them into each bowl, spilling a bit of the milk in the process.

“I'd just feel better if you waited until your mom was here to walk you through this dating thing, that's all. Besides, you seem to forget how I made a total fool of myself with that other thing.” He said “thing” between clenched teeth like he'd rather forget our feminine hygiene–product shopping trip from back in June.

“You weren't that bad,” I said but cringed at the memory.

“Still, I'm sure your mom would be much better qualified to deal with this.” He stirred his coffee then tapped the spoon on the side of his mug. “You get it, don't you?”

“Sure,” I said vaguely. “I get it.”

“Thanks, honey.” He smiled as he picked up his coffee mug and headed back up to the office upstairs.

“I get that I'm going to grow up to be an old maid living alone with twenty-nine cats if my dad has anything to do with it,” I muttered as I heard Dad's footsteps on the stairs.

“Cats? Wha…what cats?” Cori sat up, confused.

“Never mind, just eat up.” I placed a bowl of cereal in front of her and popped a spoonful of Sugar-Os in my mouth.

Someone knocked on the kitchen door.

“Hi, Mrs. Blake,” I said as I opened the door. Cori's mom had come to pick her up.

“Hello, sweetness.” Mrs. Blake gave me a hug and a peck on the cheek. She handed me a still-warm, home-baked lasagna and a basketful of peaches. “Did you girls have fun?”

“Yes, but wow.” I peeked under the aluminum foil and snuck a piece of cheesy pasta. “You didn't have to do this.”

“Don't be silly.” Mrs. Blake waved my comment away. “It's just as easy to make two lasagnas as it is to make one, and they were practically giving the peaches away at the farmer's market.”

I polished off the rest of my Sugar-Os and rinsed out my bowl before serving myself a piece of lasagna as big as my head.

“Ohmygarmmm. This is so goorf,” I said as I chewed, imagining the day when my own mom would be standing in the kitchen making me food.

“Glad you like it.” Mrs. Blake squeezed my arm and smiled. “Cori, honey. Are you almost ready to go? What happened to your knee?”

“I twisted it.” Cori winced as she propped her leg up on the stool next to her. “Which totally stinks. How am I supposed to go to the movie tonight like this?”

“And with whom were you planning to go to the movie?” Mrs. Blake raised her eyebrows.

“With Trey,” Cori began, then she saw the skeptical look on her mother's face, “and Jade, and maybe Luke? There's a big group of us, I think.”

Dad had left things a bit fuzzy. Was going to the movies in a group okay, or was my social life doomed for the foreseeable future?

Mrs. Blake pursed her lips and looked back and forth between the two of us.

“Can't wait!” I exclaimed, maybe a bit too cheerily but I couldn't leave Cori hanging.

“As long as there's a group,” Mrs. Blake said. “You know how I feel about you dating. Trey Martin seems like a nice boy but he
is
almost sixteen.”

An icy silence filled the room. Cori shifted the bag of peas on her knee.

“Well, look at the time!” I glanced at the clock on the microwave. “If I'm going to take over your scooping duties today, we all better get going.”

“I'll give you a ride over.” Mrs. Blake popped the rest of the lasagna in the fridge and picked up her purse. “Grab your things and meet me in the car when you're ready?”

“Sure. Thanks!”

Mrs. Blake left through the kitchen door while Cori dug around her cereal.

“Can you believe that?” Cori picked up her bowl and limped over to the sink. “It's SO unfair.”

I thought back to the conversation I'd just had with my dad.

“I feel your pain, my friend. I really do,” I mumbled as I finished up my last bite of lasagna. “Add scales and a tail and we're practically the same person.”

“Chelse?” I called. Melting ice cream dripped down my hand as I handed a triple order of chocolate dipped soft-serve over the counter to the waiting customers. They waved their money for me to take, but I was way too sticky.

“Chelse, honey.” Bridget nudged her as she headed out into the diner with a club sandwich platter and a plate of calamari.

Finally, Chelse pulled out her earbuds and glanced up from her cell phone.

I turned back and smiled at the customer. “Chelse can help you at the end of the counter.”

“Oh, sorry.” Chelse blinked and took the money from the customer and actually made the right amount of change as far as I could tell.

Once the customers were gone, I turned to wash my hands in the sink, then leaned back against the counter to dry them with a paper towel. Chelse looked so sad. Sure, I was peeved because I pretty much had to carry the shift on my own whenever I worked with her (plus all of my earnings were still getting socked away until I could figure out how to pay for the canoe of hers I'd lost), but I couldn't help feel bad for her. And guilty.

“Hey, Chelse?” I asked. “You okay?”

Chelse looked up at me. Her face drooped in its usual cheerless expression, but then she forced a smile. “Yeah. I'm fine.”

“Anything you want to talk about?” I asked. “I'm a good listener.”

Chelse glanced out our awning-covered window to check for customers, then sat back on her stool in front of the till.

“So, I guess you heard about the Facebook thing?”

I nodded and gave an embarrassed smile.

“I'm sure that can't be fun for you. I'm sorry.” I suddenly felt
really
bad for watching the video in the first place. How embarrassing would it be to have something like that splashed all over the Internet?

And there I was, watching the video just like the other 374 dopes who'd thought it would be funny to make stupid jokes in the comments. Did those people even know Chelse? Did they even care? And what did that make
me
if I couldn't resist the temptation to have a look too?

“Yeah, well. First of all, my boyfriend promised me he'd deleted that video like I'd asked.” Chelse squinted, as if remembering something, and shook her head. “But after we broke up, he thought he'd have fun with it and post it all over Facebook. A couple hundred mouse clicks later, here we are.” She stuffed her phone into her purse and folded her hands in her lap.

“Your ex-boyfriend did this to you?” I stared at her in surprise. “What an idiot.”

“Wow.” Chelse laughed. “Thanks. You're the first person to actually talk to me about it.”

“No problem,” I said.

“The video
was
kind of funny, though,” Chelse said quietly. A smile crept over her lips.

“And I see Buster is just as hyper as ever,” I joked, thinking back to all the fun we used to have when I visited my Gran's cottage across the water from the Beckers'. “Remember when we tried to teach him how to water-ski that time?”

Chelse laughed. “And he kept licking the water, then he puked all over your Gran's dock.”

“Yeah and then my mom stepped in it before we could clean it up?”

Chelse was giggling like crazy by then.

“Sorry!” She held a hand to her mouth. “I shouldn't be laughing.”

“Why not?” I smiled. “It
was
pretty hilarious.”

Chelse wiped the laughter tears from her eyes. “Your mom was so much fun. It's been weird not seeing her this summer.”

“Yeah, she was,” I agreed, remembering our summers in Dundee. “Anyway, about the video? Forget about it and that loser ex-boyfriend of yours. I can't believe anyone would want to hurt you like that.”

Chelse looked down at her hands like she was missing something now that her cell was stowed away in the bag under her stool.

“Thanks, Jade. The problem is…I'm not the only one who could get hurt by this,” she said quietly.

I wasn't sure I'd heard her correctly, but just then Bridget came by to fill in for my break.

“Made you some fries. Extra salty.” She motioned to the counter where a huge plate of waffle fries sat waiting.

“Bridget, did I ever tell you I love you more than puppies and rainbows? Because I do.” I hugged her and went around the counter, parking myself on the swivel stool in front of my plate of fries. My mouth watered in anticipation for the salty, starchy goodness, but I restrained myself and called Dad to get an update.

“Hey, Dad. How's it going?” I asked when he picked up the phone.

“Jade! I'm so glad you called. I made a few inquiries about the construction site and found out a few interesting things.”

“Like what?” I looked around to make sure no one was listening.

“Apparently, Chamberlain Construction has special permission from the Land Development Department to work over the weekends,” Dad said.

“You mean they're landfilling at the mall right now?” Panic rose in my chest. “How can they do that?”

Dad paused. “I get the feeling Mr. Chamberlain is a well-connected man.”

“We've got to do something.” I could feel the tears gathering up in the corners of my eyes. “What if—”

But I stopped myself when I saw Bridget look up from scooping up a banana split. She quickly turned away when her customer asked for extra peanuts.

“I'm working on something right now. We'll talk about it when you get home, okay?” Dad said.

“Okay,” I whispered before saying good-bye.

Bridget tended to the coffee pot while there was a lull at the ice cream counter. She stopped when she saw I hadn't touched my fries yet.

“Too salty?” she asked.

“Oh.” I looked down at my plate and popped a fry in my mouth. “No, no. They're perfect.”

Bridget paused. “I couldn't help but overhear. Are they expanding the mall? I haven't been shopping there since the spring.”

“Yeah. They're putting in a new wing and landfilling the back part by the shore.” I looked down at my plate imagining each load of dirt going into the tidal pool. What would happen to Mom if we didn't get to her on time?

Chelse called over from her perch. “Is that what all those trucks are for? I could barely find a parking spot last time I was there.”

“It's too bad they're filling all that in.” Bridget poured the old coffee in the sink and began to make a fresh pot. “It's really pretty back there with the pond and everything.”

“You know where I mean?” I asked. My eyes stung. I wiped a tear away.

“Yeah. Hey.” Bridget reached out and touched my arm. Chelse looked over from the ice cream counter. “What's the matter?”

“It's just…” How could I explain why I was so upset without revealing the fact that Mom was floating in the mall's tidal pool? “That place is—
was
—really special to my mom.”

“It
is
pretty special,” Bridget said thoughtfully. “Especially when the Monarch butterflies are migrating.”

“Oh, I have a picture of that.” I scrolled through the pictures on my phone to find the one of Cori from the day before. I held it up for her to see. Bridget smiled as if remembering a similar time.

“How can they just landfill a place like that?” Chelse took my phone in her hands and studied the picture.

“Well, they shouldn't
really
,” Bridget said slowly. “Considering.”

“Considering what?” A hopeful feeling rose in my chest.

“Monarchs are a ‘species of special concern.'” Bridget finger-quoted the last bit. “Kind of one step away from being endangered.”

“I didn't know you were such a nature lover,” Chelse said.

“Kind of a sucker for a good cause, more like.” Bridget pressed the button on the coffee maker and wiped down the counter with a cloth. “I actually tried to get that area protected by the town a few years ago.”

“What happened?” I tried to keep cool, but the possibility of protecting the tidal pool somehow was the first glimmer of hope I'd had all day.

“I couldn't get enough people behind it.” Bridget rinsed her cloth in the sink and hung it to dry over the faucet.

I sighed, unable to hide my disappointment.

Chelse looked from me to Bridget, a look of disgust on her face.

“Are you kidding me?” Chelse asked. “Over a thousand people will watch a stupid video on Facebook but you couldn't get enough people to speak up for an almost-endangered species? What is
wrong
with people?” Then a smile grew on her lips. “Or maybe…”

“What?” I looked from Bridget to Chelse. “Maybe what?”

Chelse pulled out her phone.

“I'm friending you on Facebook. Send me that picture?” She nodded to the picture of Cori with the butterflies.

“Sure, but what are you going to do with it?”

“I'm going to attempt to restore my faith in humanity.”