Real Mermaids Don't Sell Seashells (2 page)

BOOK: Real Mermaids Don't Sell Seashells
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I don't think I ever appreciated the feeling of solid ground quite as much as when we finally landed in the Bahamas and I felt the steadiness of the Nassau airport's tiled floor beneath my feet.

I could feel the blood returning to my extremities as we made our way through the terminal, enjoying fruity-tasting complimentary beverages and soothing steel-drum music. We collected our suitcases from the baggage carousel, got a few maps from the tourism counter, and found the spot outside the terminal where our hotel's shuttle van was supposed to pick us up.

“How long until the shuttle?” I asked Dad as I felt the warm Caribbean sun against my cheeks.

“The what?” Dad squinted at me through his standard-issue geek glasses and worked his jaw like he was trying to get his ears to pop after the flight.

“The shuttle, honey!” Mom yelled so Dad could hear then turned to me and smiled. “The doctor said he'd be okay to fly, but I'm afraid his swimmer's ear is acting up again. He hasn't been able to understand two words since our descent. Anyway, the shuttle should be here any minute now.”

“In it how? In what?” Dad yelled. Leave it to Dad to get swimmer's ear after one pool party at the Blakes' despite the fact his own wife and daughter had just spent
months
underwater as mermaids. Dad had been through so much, though, and really deserved this vacation. I reached an arm around him and gave him a hug.

“Stick with me, Dad. We can get matching lounge chairs by the hotel pool.” Because there was no way I was actually going
in
the pool. Swimmer's ear or not, I planned to stay high and dry for the next six days. “Me and you, okay? Side by side.”

“Ride? Is our ride here?” Dad asked, looking down the Arrivals platform.

“Not yet, honey.” Mom patted Dad's arm and shrugged at me with a smile.

Families milled around the taxi stands and shuttle stops with their rolling suitcases, pointing at local landmarks on half unfolded maps, and I could feel a weird sense of calm as the air crackled with the excitement and optimism Cori had promised back on the plane.

“Okay, I'm starting to tune into the island vibe now,” I said to Cori as the palm trees swayed around us.

The warm Caribbean air was a welcome change compared to our chilly October days back in Port Toulouse. I could imagine myself lying on the beach and catching up on the latest celebrity gossip magazines, now that I had escaped the flying death trap.

“I know, right?” Cori agreed. “And it's still early, so we have the rest of the day ahead of us. Wait until you get to the Eutopia resort. My mom and dad went there for their tenth anniversary and showed me pictures. The beach has amazingly soft, white sand, and the buffets have the biggest shrimp you've ever seen.” She considered this for a second. “Well, the biggest shrimp
I've
ever seen, anyway.”

“I think I could get used to this,” I said, closing my eyes to fully enjoy the moment.

This is what
normal
people did—go on vacations, buy lame souvenirs, and read trashy magazines under a hot blazing sun.

Ahh, so relaxing…

Until, that was, we put our lives into the hands of the crazy lady with a death wish behind the wheel of our hotel's shuttle van.

•••

“Whoa!” Cori and I squeezed ourselves between two sticky boys with lollipops at the back of the shuttle van and had to keep dodging their death wands as they waved the lollipops in the air and shot
Avada
Kedavra
curses at each other. I was beginning to understand why the boys' parents had ditched them in the back of the van with us and nabbed seats behind the driver.

“Hello, everyone! My name is Faye and I'll be your driver today.” Faye's mirrored sunglasses flashed up at us in her rearview mirror and her cheery smile gleamed white against her dark brown skin. The van was jam-packed with passengers and luggage, and it even looked like the front passenger seat was occupied.

Whiffs of breath mints and stale coffee filled the air, but at least Faye didn't smoke. Otherwise, with her wicked race-car-driver-like reflexes and the fact we were packed in there like sardines, I'd be adding another aroma to the van of the “upchuckity” kind that no amount of minty freshness could mask.

We zipped through the island streets, past a mix of newer hotels and pockets of rundown-looking houses and buildings, while Faye rattled off the sightseeing highlights between jokes and local gossip.

“…and off in the distance you can see the twin towers of the Eutopia Resort, which was made famous by movies like
To
Catch
a
Spy
and
The
Forgiveness
Diaries
starring Sean Diggory,” Faye said.

I could barely keep up with what she was saying in her mile-a-minute Caribbean accent. Plus, the only things I saw were blurred buildings and snatches of the ocean whizzing by my window. I wouldn't be surprised if our shuttle van driver was related to our airplane pilot.

“That's where we'll be staying.” Mom pointed to the Eutopia Resort and grinned. I gripped the metal bar across the back of her seat and tried to keep from sliding into one of the Sticky Boys as Faye took a corner at warp speed.

“And to the left is the island's famous Straw Market where local artisans sell their wares,” Faye continued. “The new Straw Market building had some flooding problems in last week's storm, so the booths are temporarily relocated at the waterfront near Señor Frog's, but the market is a must for visitors to the island, so make sure you take that in during your stay.”

This was definitely the touristy part of town. The tumbledown shacks and narrow alleys were gone, replaced by high-end shops selling jewelry, perfume, and clothes.

“Oh,” Cori exclaimed between waving lollipops, “Lainey said we should totally go to the Straw Market. She got this really cool conch ring from one of the booths when she was here with her parents last year but lost it, so I promised I'd try to find her another one.”

Lainey Chamberlain and I had never been the best of friends, but we'd struck a truce at the Fall Folly dance after she'd discovered her own father's mer secret. While Lainey might never become my best bud, it was nice to see Cori talking to her again since they both loved fashion and Cori had long since given up on improving my “shabby chic” style.

I leaned over the seat in front of me and whispered to Dad. “Does this lady's pay get docked for every minute she's late dropping us off?”

“What did you drop? Want me to get it for you?” Dad yelled and hunted under his seat.

“No, it's okay, Dalrymple. And no need to yell…” Mom patted Dad on the back and he bumped his head on the seat's crossbar as he sat back up. Mom cringed. “It's just over that bridge, Jade. Not long now.”

We crossed the long bridge separating Nassau and Paradise Island, and I got my first good look at the blue Caribbean waters. I could see three huge cruise ships docked along the piers, all gleaming white and cheery.

“I wonder—” I caught Cori's eye and waved a hand in front of me in a fishy, mermaid-tail motion.

“Jade, we talked about this, remember? Dry, on land,” she said then mouthed
and
human
so the others wouldn't hear.

“Yeah, yeah. I remember.” But with all the beautiful, crystal blue waters surrounding us, I had a feeling I'd need more than a three-line mantra to switch from mermaid mode to vacation mode.

Once we got to the other side of the bridge, the shuttle van wove its way through the smooth streets and manicured grounds of Paradise Island and Faye dropped the first couple at their hotel. I thought the hotel was called “the Asylum,” though as we got closer to the sign, I could tell someone had rearranged the letters and it was actually the Alyssum. It looked nice enough, though the balconies all looked out onto the parking lot and I thought I saw a group of college-aged frat boys going through the lobby with blow-up dinosaurs around their waists.

After traveling a few more streets by pristine grounds, manicured lawns, and perfectly shaped shrubs, we arrived at the Eutopia Resort. Faye pulled the van up to the glittering lobby doors, stopping next to a super-long stretch Hummer limousine.

“Isn't that Taylor 'n Tyler?” Cori jumped up and down in her seat and pointed to an extremely tanned, bleached, and sunglassed young man and woman all dressed in white.

“As in the singers Taylor 'n Tyler?” I asked. Taylor Ariella and Tyler Green had been the “It” couple of the pop music scene for the past year. They'd recently collaborated on an album that had hit platinum in its first week of being released. But what were the odds that we'd be booked in the same hotel as the famous duo that had been on every cover of every entertainment magazine in the past six months? “Nah…what are the chances?”

The Taylor 'n Tyler look-alikes and their entourage were escorted into the lobby by two hotel staff members who came out to greet them.

Dad and Mom and the other adults got out of the shuttle van first, while Cori and I managed to clamber out from the backseat, but not before one of the Sticky Boys' lollipops got stuck in my hair and I was left with a gooey grape glob hanging from my ponytail.

“You guys wait here while I go check on our reservation!” Dad yelled to us as he went into the lobby while Mom helped unglue the lollipop from my hair and Sticky Boy #1 screamed his head off because I “stoled” his treat.

“Well, if he hadn't tried to
Wingardium
Leviosa
his brother out of the van, his lollipop wand might not have gotten stuck in my hair,” I muttered to Mom as she tried to untangle the goopy mess.

“Not to worry. I think that's all of it,” Mom said as she wiped her hands with a wet wipe from the plane.

“Thanks, Mom.”

Faye was just finishing unloading all the bags from the back of the van. She plunked my Dalmatian-print rolling suitcase next to me. “No way you're gonna lose that one, are you, honey?” she asked kindly.

“It was a gift from my grandmother,” I replied with a smile, remembering how Gran had gone to three different stores with me to help pick out a suitcase. She'd felt bad she couldn't come but wanted to send me off to the Bahamas in style.

“You have a Dalmatian?” Faye asked. “My granddaughter Rayelle has always wanted one. Ever since she was a little girl and saw that Dalmatian movie. Not so little anymore.” She chuckled. “Rayelle, dear. Come out and say hi, sweetie.”

That's when I noticed that the passenger in the front seat still hadn't gotten out of the van. The door opened and Rayelle unfolded herself from the front seat. She looked like she was a year or so older than Cori and me, and had tight dark curls and long brown legs.
Really
long legs.

“Hi!” Cori was the first to stick out her hand to introduce herself. “I'm Cori and this is Jade.”

“Hi,” the girl said quickly.

“Rayelle's just hitching a ride from school to her mama's work at the Straw Market. She doesn't have a school break in the fall like you lucky girls,” Faye said. “You all like shopping?”

Cori's ears perked up like a puppy's do when you ask if it wants to go for a walk. “I
love
shopping.”

“Well, if you can be ready, my next stop here is in an hour. I'll be swinging back by the Straw Market and can drop you off on the way back to the airport,” Faye said as she shut her van's back door.

“Oh, could we?” Cori turned to my mom.

I eyed Cori's celebrity magazines. Honestly, the only thing I wanted to do for the rest of the afternoon was find a lounge chair next to the pool and park myself there until I was all caught up on the Brangelinas and Taylor 'n Tylers of the celebrity world. I could only hope that the lollipop boys were not going to be anywhere near our room because their Sticky Boy antics were starting to make my head ache.

“I don't see why not,” Mom replied with a smile.

Foiled.

“Perfect then. And call me anytime you need a ride anywhere on the island.” Faye fished a few business cards from her pocket and gave them to each of us. I stuffed mine in my bag.

“I'll be at my mom's booth,” Rayelle said. “Come find me and I can give you a tour.” “Excellent!” Cori said, rolling her hot pink suitcase onto the sidewalk beside me.

By then, a group of hotel guests going back to the airport had accumulated, and Faye and Rayelle busied themselves reloading the back of the van with luggage. Soon, they were all packed up and Faye tooted her horn as they drove away.

“I wonder what's keeping your dad.” Mom looked over her shoulder at the reception area. “Are you guys okay here if I go check on him?”

“Sure,” I replied, sitting on my Dalmatian-print suitcase.

“Once we get all settled in our rooms, we can catch the shuttle back to the Straw Market. Maybe we can find some cute sarongs for the wedding and a beachy tropical shirt for your dad. All he brought are T-shirts,” Mom said as she pushed through the lobby doors and disappeared inside.

BOOK: Real Mermaids Don't Sell Seashells
13.41Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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