Page 11 of Beyond the Stroke

“Damn it.” Her breath comes out in a frustrated puff.

“You need help?” I ask, turning my head slightly, but still giving her the privacy she asked for.

She’s quiet again, like she’s contemplating her options.

Then, finally, “Yes.” But I can hear the reluctance in her voice.

I get it. We’re strangers and she’s in a vulnerable position, but there’s no way I’d take advantage.

With her request for help, I turn around to face her.

“I’m Rory.”

“Yeah, I caught that back at the party.”

“And you are?” I ask.

“Ariel,” she says, smirking. “Don’t you remember?”

“You’re really not going to tell me your name?”

She squirms on the bench. “Maybe after you help me out of this tail.”

“Okay.” I nod, then kneel to examine the problem.

A quick tug of the material at her hips tells me this tail isn’t going anywhere without a fight. After having made similar mistakes wearing gear into the ocean that was form fitting, I know exactly what the issue is.

“This material wasn’t designed for salt water. The salt increased the friction when it dried, and created a suction effect.”

“Are you an expert in this kind of thing?” she asks, her blue eyes challenging me.

“Hydrodynamics. It’s kind of my specialty.”

Her eyes widen. “What do I do?”

I give her a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry. I’ve got you.”

“Okay, so do it,” she requests, motioning toward the tail.

I move in closer.

“Wait! Don’t rip it. I have to return it.”

“I won’t rip it. But I need to break the suction.”

“Break the suction? How are you going to do that?” she asks.

I lift my hands out in front of me.

“With your freakishly large hands?” Her eyes bulge. “How are you going to get those inside?” She motions toward her hips. “They’re not going to fit. It’s too tight.”

At that exact moment, an older woman walking her dog appears along the path next to us. She looks taken aback at our conversation and hurriedly steers her dog down toward the beach.

“Oh my god. Did she think…”

I laugh. “Yep.”

“Get your head out of the gutter!” she yells after the woman. “I’m a mermaid in distress!”

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