Page 72 of Ensnaring the Siren

Over and over, he wondered whether he should tell her the truth, but if his mom had already linked Nireed-his-maybe-girlfriend to the mermaid studies and science journal articles, then why wasn’t she asking the obvious? It was alarming to think that this might be the sort of something not even his mother could bear.

When lunch was done and the bill paid, Reid asked, “Would you like to meet for dinner?”

Distractedly, his mom waved a hand before typing something into her phone. Odd. She was normally more attentive. Either work was particularly strenuous or something else was going on here. “I would, if I didn’t already have plans,” she said in a clipped, brusque tone. “Breakfast tomorrow?”

“Sure. Seven early enough?”

She nodded curtly, finishing a text before locking her screen and shoving her phone in her purse. “Give me a hug.”

He did, but it was awkward.

Why was his mother acting all squirrelly?

Tailing his own mother like a goddamn private investigator was not how he’d wanted to spend his afternoon, but with how weird she was acting, he had to make sure she was all right. If she’d connected the dots about Nireed, maybe this odd behavior was some kind of manifestation of her thalassophobia, and if it was, he wanted to be there if things took a turn for the worst.

From afar, he watched her stop at an ATM, then duck into a coffee shop, where a person sitting at a window seat inside stood up and hugged her. He couldn’t see what the person looked like through the sun’s glare on the shopfront window, but it couldn’t be the business acquaintance she was here to see, could it? He certainly didn’t hug anyone at work. But maybe in the civilian world hugging clients and colleagues wasn’t weird.

She was probably fine, but curiosity got the best of him, and he plopped down on a park bench that gave him direct line of sight to the front door while also remaining tucked out of view from the folks inside. The tree and trash can next to him helped.

When an hour passed, he started feeling like an idiot. What the hell was he doing stalking his mother and staking out her business meeting? She was a capable, responsible adult who could call her therapist if she had an episode. She didn’t need her son lurking around, checking up on her.

Reid was just about to get up and walk away when his mom stood, exiting the coffee shop with her acquaintance in tow.

He immediately sat his ass back down, floored by what he saw.

The younger woman she was with had dark auburn hair just like his. It wasn’t a rare color, but it wasn’t common either, and more to the point, this woman was the spitting image of his mom when she was in her early thirties, minus the perm and flashy eighties clothing.

Who was she? And why did she look like they could be related?

He only had an uncle on his dad’s side, no kids. His mom didn’t have any siblings and neither did his late maternal grandmother, so cousin was out of the question.

“Would you like to stop by the house for dinner tomorrow?” His mother’s lookalike asked. “Killian’s making lobster mac ‘n’ cheese.”

“I’d love to. When should I come by?”

“Any time after six is fine.” The woman shifted awkwardly, looking mildly uncomfortable. “So, um, have you told Reid about me yet?”

He leaned forward, pretending to play a game on his phone, all while straining to hear.

His mom sighed. “Not yet.”

“Mom, you really need to.”

Mom? His vision narrowed down to a single point, at some weed sprouting up from a crack in the sidewalk, his surroundings blurring at the edges. He gripped the edge of the bench for support, feeling wobbly even as he was sitting.

Did this strange woman just call his mother mom?

“It’s not fair to him or to me,” the woman continued. “And I really hate keeping this secret from Nireed. It feels like lying. She’s seeing him, you know, and I think she really likes him. That makes it harder.”

Wait, this woman knew Nireed? And his mom had a secret child? What the fuck was going on here? An affair? Was his mom living a double life?

“I want to meet my brother,” the woman added gently.

“I know, I know. But the truth is so difficult. You know that.”

The woman rubbed his—their—mother’s arm. “I do, but he deserves to know he has a sister. And really, that’s all. I don’t see why you’d have to tell him the how of it—not unless you wanted to. The sooner you get it off your chest, the sooner you’ll be able to move on.”

The how of it?

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