Read Silver Tides (Silver Tides Series) Online
Authors: Susan Fodor
Daniel huffed over. "My mum is so spoiled," he complained like a parent frustrated with his teenager.
Mum laughed. "Are you appreciating the amnesia yet?"
Daniel became still. "You know, I never thought about that. If I hadn't been poor for those few months, I still wouldn't value money...”
Mum smiled sagely. "The amnesia was a terrible thing to endure, but you let it make you better and not bitter."
I shook my head, smiling. "Did you just think of that yourself?"
"I saw it on Facebook," Mum confided with a comical smile.
Daniel and I laughed at Mum; she joined in.
"You're all very happy, for people who aren't spending money," Sophia observed, still put out by Daniel's new thrifty approach to shopping.
Daniel rolled his eyes in frustration. Before we arrived I'd worried that Daniel would love Sydney so much he wouldn't want to return home. The opposite was true; he was counting down the hours to get back to Geelong.
As the sun set on our last night in Sydney, Daniel was increasingly frustrated. Even Dad noticed, who was having the time of his life with George. They had become like teenage boys romping around Sydney, playing golf and eating exotic food; they tried to one-up each other in cuisine; seeing who could ingest the most weird items on the menu. I didn’t want to imagine what they’d been putting in their bodies all day. Our families sat on the spacious deck watching the sun kiss the bay goodnight.
"It's really spectacular here." Mum sighed, looking like a lady of leisure as she reclined on her deck chair.
"We'll have a beachfront view from our new house," Sophia consoled herself. "It'll be just as beautiful."
Despite George and Sophia’s willingness to move to Geelong, they were going to miss their old lives. Sydney was so much faster than Geelong, and I hoped they would acclimatize quickly.
"I'm going to bed," Daniel announced abruptly, standing to leave.
"Are you unwell?" Sophia asked concerned, rising beside him to touch his forehead.
"No," he mumbled darkly. "I miss the sea."
Sophia pulled her hand back as though it had been burnt. She examined Daniel as though he were a creature nearing extinction. If anyone noticed the strange exchange, no one said anything.
"The bay's not good enough?" Dad joked in disbelief.
Dad had grown up very poor, and the luxury that knowing the Essos had afforded him was better than he ever imagined life could offer.
"The bay is filled with memories I'd rather forget," Daniel replied, monotone.
The doorbell resonated through the house. George answered the door to fend off journalists and returned a few minutes later with a girl our age. She launched herself into Daniel’s arms and kissed him soundly before he could pull away.
"I missed you so much, Danny," she gushed.
"Lindsay, I forgot all about you till this moment," Daniel responded, dryly. I could tell he was lying for my sake; she was the girl who wore Ralph Lauren’s Romance perfume. They were perfect together, Daniel with his chiseled features and Lindsay with her long auburn hair, cream skin, and big doe eyes.
Lindsay giggled expertly. "You're so funny; let's get reacquainted." The last word meant more than, ‘let’s just talk’; I felt dinner shoot into the back of my throat.
Daniel shrugged her off and stood behind my seat. "This is my girlfriend, Mya."
Anger flashed in Lindsay's eyes, but she covered it expertly. "So, there's a lot you need to tell me," she bubbled.
Daniel seemed to see right through Lindsay, which was surprising, since Tim couldn't see past a push-up bra; I assumed all guys were like him.
"It's been two years, Lindz; how many boys have been through your window?" Daniel asked, unabashed.
"Daniel!" George reprimanded, a stern warning in his tone. "You may not remember, but Lindsay's dad and I work together."
"Sorry," Daniel relented. "Take a seat."
Lindsay was stung and would not let the insult go. "You know, Daniel, you have no right to talk to me about being faithful. You had a constant stream of girls through your window when we were together. You'd do well to remember that, Mya," she addressed me. "Daniel is a spoiled, entitled brat who wouldn't know how to be faithful to one girl if his life depended on it!"
Lindsay spun on her heel and huffed out of the room, with George following behind her like a puppy-dog, apologizing profusely all the way to her car.
My family decided to walk to the bay in the backyard to let the Essos "talk", which was code for "discipline Daniel."
Inky darkness had covered the bay, causing the lights to glow on the water’s surface, like sea stars. The chill in the air made me shiver as much as the image of Daniel’s lips pressed against Lindsay's. The scene swam through my mind along with her accusations of his cheating.
He's a different person now,
I reasoned, but how much did I really know about Daniel? His parents were one of the richest families in the country. They had different values, they had moved across the country without a second thought, maybe they replaced relationships as easily. Daniel had held his own against Lindsay, but what about the other girls who’d been climbing through his window? Could I trust Daniel or my feelings for him? Was I dazzled like Miranda? I felt like I was drowning in the turmoil building inside me.
"Let's go for a jog," I told Mum, needing a release.
I was not a jogger; I was as athletic as a jellybean and about the same shape.
To her credit, Mum didn't contradict me; she just got our sneakers.
It was getting dark as we jogged along the swanky street that led to a seaside path. The manicured gardens and high fences kept my attention for two hundred meters before I was reduced to walking, which was better than crawling, since that was what I felt like doing. The sea opened out to my right, with the white railing glowing in the moonlight; a thin barrier between us and the cliff drop into the sea.
"I prefer to walk," Mum accommodated, allowing me space to wrestle with my thoughts.
I felt weighed down by my conflicting emotions. I tried to stay positive about my relationship with Daniel, but everything was changing so quickly. There were times that I doubted the relationship would last, mostly because I didn’t feel good enough for him, but tonight I questioned Daniel’s motives and thoughts.
The whole time we had been in Sydney Daniel had been moody, which I’d chalked up to all the unsolved mysteries he was facing, but maybe it was more. He was pulling away from everyone. Maybe he was always moody and was getting back to his old self, or perhaps he wanted to be with someone else, someone like Lindsay or some other girl that he’d remembered.
"You know he's not the same person," Mum said after a long time.
"That's what I keep telling myself." I sighed, happy for the first time that I was so easy to read.
"But..." Mum fished.
"He’s been so moody this whole trip, and I don’t know, maybe he’s rethinking us, or there’s someone else...” I confessed, feeling better to have the words out of my head and open to objective scrutiny.
I watched the moon dance across the water’s surface, and it made me feel calmer, despite the continued confusion. The gentle lapping of the water on the rocks soothed me like a lullaby.
“He dotes on you,” Mum encouraged, giving me a sweaty side hug. “Being here must be unnerving for him, remembering being sick here, that awful Lindsay girl---It’s a lot to handle when you’re still a kid.”
“We’re not kids Mum.” I bristled.
“Do you have full time jobs and pay all the bills and have a minimum of thirty revolutions of the sun?” Mum asked pointedly, placing her hands on her hips and stopping.
I rolled my eyes, unwilling to agree that according to Mum’s criteria we were still kids. “Then to me, you’re both still kids, trying to work out where you fit in the world,” Mum concluded, slipping her arm through mine and initiating further movement.
Mum’s tone softened. “Daniel’s been through a lot. I know you care about him, let him have this time to be moody. It will pass.”
Mum maneuvered us to the railing, looking out at the sea an unreadable look on her face. A slight wind ruffled our hair, as we watched the ambient light glance off the water’s inky surface.
Mum inhaled deeply. “I love the smell of the sea.”
The effervescent spray tickled my nose. “It smells like the color green.”
“Excuse me?” Mum laughed.
“If you could smell color, the sea would smell green, you know, vibrant and fresh the way green energizes your eyes?” I tried to explain.
Mum nodded, a comical look on her face. “Well, you’re definitely my child; we’re as weird as each other.”
“Well, thanks, Ma,” I said, putting on a hillbilly accent and squinting.
Mum laughed, taking in another big gulp of sea air. “Don’t you just love the sea, Mya?” Her eyes searched mine, expectant and hopeful.
“Daniel sure does.” I chuckled.
Mum was looking hard at me. “And you?”
“It’s ok,” I shrugged. The sea was a beautiful ethereal thing, especially at night under the moonlight. It made me want to dip my toes in the waves and dance under the full moon, but I didn’t think that was any different to how other people felt about the sea.
Mum looked away, like my response had disappointed her. I was too preoccupied with Daniel’s curious behavior to worry about Mum’s characteristic fretting.
“Come on, kid,” she said, gathering herself. “Let’s get back.”
We wound our way back to the house along the seaside track in silence, each caught up in our individual pondering. My head felt clearer having had some time away from Daniel, and I hoped that he and his parents had come to some kind of resolution after Lindsay’s visit. I was anxious to see if Daniel would talk to me tonight or continue to brood.
When we returned, Dad and George were playing cards downstairs. Mum was desperate for a shower, so I let her go ahead as I wandered aimlessly through the mansion.
Expensive art delighted my eyes and fresh flowers tantalized my nose as I made my way down the luxurious hallway. The long well lit halls made the house feel like an art gallery. I could hear Daniel and his mum in the master bedroom, as I meandered to my room, but I didn’t want to intrude.
Daniel burst out of his parent’s room, looking bewildered.
“You’re back,” he declared, as Sophia followed him into the hall.
“Yeah,” I replied, startled by his anxiety.
He wrapped his arms around me, like I was a buoy keeping him from drowning. His sudden neediness made the hairs on my arms stand on end.
“You should come look at this too,” Sophia told me, seriously.
The feeling of discomfort between mother and son was palpable; I didn’t want to get involved, but I wasn’t given an option.
Daniel looked ready to object, but Sophia pulled me from his grasp and ushered me into the bedroom, where photos were laid out all over the bed. The golden comforter on the king-sized bed reflected the energy saving light’s glow. Matching gold-trimmed old-fashioned seats and a low coffee table looked out the wall-to-wall window at the bay. Daniel interrupted my bedroom envy.
“My mother is trying to convince me that I grew a tail and became a mermaid,” Daniel told me, deadpan.
I inspected one of the photos; the torso was most definitely Daniel, with his golden hair and startling blue eyes, but from the waist down, he was undeniably a fish. The hairs on my arm rose. Sophia’s declaration of a skin disease played through my mind, but the photos betrayed something much more involved; like reverse-evolution of man into fish.
“I know it’s difficult to believe,” Sophia exclaimed, her voice shaky. “Daniel woke up one morning screaming that he had a tail. We took him to every skin specialist, but no one had ever seen anything like it. The worst part was that after seeing Daniel they would forget having ever seen him.”
Daniel groaned in disbelief. “So there isn’t anyone to corroborate your story?”
“There’s the photos, and my word as your mother,” she replied honestly, her eyes begging Daniel to believe her.
I examined the photo, searching for any lines or discrepancies to suggest digital tampering, but the photos looked genuine. Daniel had a long muscular silver tail. My mind was taking in the picture, trying to find a rational explanation, running at a million miles per-second, but still moving too slowly.