Page 18 of Bewitched By the Siren
We’ve had this conversation before. Many, many times. Mom loves me. Of course, she wants me to live my own life. But what’s the point of forming relationships if all you can do is lie to the people you care about? It’s not worth the risk. If I let anyone get too close and they discover what I am…
Life as we know it would be over. I’d lose Mom, completely, because I’d have to choose between escaping to the ocean and living as a mermaid full-time, going on the run and creating a new identity, or giving up and letting the government lock me up in some lab to be tested, poked, and prodded for the rest of my life.
I meet her eyes. “I’m happy with things just the way they are.”
She gives me a sad smile. “I know you are, sweetheart. But I fear you’re missing out on so much. I don’t want to be the reason you’re lonely. When I’m gone––”
“I don’t even want to think about that,” I cut in before she can finish the sentence.
“I know you don’t. But you have to, Hali. I don’t want you to be all alone when the time comes. You need to find someone you can trust with your secrets. Someone who’ll love you, fins and all, just like I do.”
My eyes burn as my lips curve up into a cheerless smile. “You’re one in a million, Mom. If anyone else had found me…”
I let the words trail off as a shudder runs through me. I don’t like to think about what might’ve happened all those years ago if someone else had found me and turned me over to family services. I’m sure I’d have lived my life as a lab experiment or as some kind of circus sideshow if that had happened.
“Ididfind you, and I love you and want you to be happy. You said Brendan is only in town for a short time while he tries to convince you to sign a deal, right?”
“Right,” I say, drawing out the word and filling it with suspicion.
“So he’s low-risk. Spend some time with him. Have fun while he’s here. Trusting people takes practice, and he’d be the perfect guinea pig. Trust him with small details about your life. Show him the things you love about this place. You’ll see how fulfilling it can be.”
“I’ll think about it,” I mumble after taking a moment to roll her words around in my head. She nods and takes another big bite of her burrito, and while she chews, I add, “I’m going for a swim tonight.”
She swallows and gives me solemn nod. “Be careful.”
She knows how dangerous it is, but she also understands the necessity. When I was little, she used to stand at the water’s edge with a giant bath sheet, ready to scoop me up and dry me off before anyone could see my tail. But once she got sick and couldn’t be there for me, I had to get creative. It’s not easy, getting out of the water when you have no legs.
“I’ll be careful,” I promise.
I know it terrifies her even more than it does me, that someone––either human or siren––will see me. But I’ve put it off for too long, the pain is becoming unbearable, and I don’t have a choice but to take the risk.
Leaving her to finish her breakfast and rest, I head back to the kitchen for a drink of water. Looking through the window, I see Brendan walking up the beach toward his rental next door.
Is Mom right? Can I practice becoming friends with him with minimal risk since he’s only here temporarily?
I heave a sigh as I make a decision. Heading into my bedroom, I find the business card he gave me stashed in my sock drawer where I put it instead of tossing it into the trash like I’d planned. It has his phone number on it. Pulling my phone from my back pocket, I take a deep breath and type in the number.
Here goes nothing.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Brendan
I can’t stop smiling.Hali and I may not be best friends, yet, or anything, but I feel like I made some serious inroads this morning.
Closing the door behind me, I walk into the kitchen and set the basket on the counter. Taking the single leftover burrito out, I stick it in the fridge before tossing the trash and dumping the remaining coffee into the sink.
My phone chimes as I rinse the thermos out, so I set it down and dry my hands before fishing the device out of my pocket. My brow furrows in confusion when I see an unknown number with a local area code.
912-555-4040:Do you still want a tour of the Sea Turtle Center?
Oh, shit. It’s Hali. How did she get my number?
I remember giving her my card the night we met, but I assumed she just threw it away. Obviously, she didn’t. My chestwarms as I read the text again. I consider teasing her by asking who’s texting, but quickly disregard the idea.
I have a feeling reaching out like this wasn’t easy for her, and I’m not about to make her even more uncomfortable by giving her a hard time. My thumbs fly over the screen as I type out a reply.
Me:Absolutely.I’d love to. When were you thinking?
