“There’s a new smell on the water, Calder.”
“Oh yeah? What’s that?”
“Don’t be cute.”
“She was boating.”
Maris cursed my name. “Were you in the water with her again?”
“No, of course not.”
Maris’s arms flew up in exasperation. The wind agitated the lake into rough chops behind her. “Calder, you are ruining everything. What makes you think she won’t warn her father? If he’s on alert, our whole plan is shot. I never should have trusted you with something so important. You’ve never grown up. You’re for crap with responsibility. Do you have any idea how long I’ve been working toward this? Are you even on board?”
“Of course I am. The Hancock girl has no idea what we are. You’re overreacting.”
“Don’t tell me I’m overreacting. I raised you. Do you think that was easy? Do you think I needed another sibling to look after?” She was screeching now. “We could have just left you. Mother didn’t have to save you. But she did. So how do you think it feels to have you betray us now?”
“I haven’t—”
Pavati and Tallulah returned with armloads of driftwood, which they dumped into a pile with a clatter. Maris and I both looked over at them. Tallulah wouldn’t meet my eyes.
“Anyone hungry?” asked Pavati.
“What is your problem, Maris?” I fumed. “I thought that’s what you wanted. For me to get close to her. Isn’t that what you said?”
“Yes, but just how close are you getting?”
“Your smell is mixed with hers, Cal,” Tallulah said. Her voice was small and unfamiliar. “It’s all over Manitou Island.”
“She took a boat over.” I was making this up as I went. I prayed they didn’t consider the unlikelihood of a human taking anything as rickety as the Hancocks’ boat across open water. “I ran into her on the beach. I told her I’d done the same thing.”
“Don’t you think that was a little hard to believe, seeing as you didn’t have a boat? And what about clothes?”
“I had clothes. I told her my boat was down the beach, pulled up into the bushes. She didn’t ask many questions. She was glad to see me. That’s a good thing, right?”
Maris’s eyes narrowed. I looked over at Tallulah, but she still wouldn’t look at me.
Pavati smirked and built the kindling into a teepee over a pile of dry leaves. She rubbed her hands together until sparks flew out of her palms and caught the leaves on fire.
“I’m invited over for dinner tomorrow.” I was glad I had that bit to offer. I hoped that would improve their moods. I didn’t want this to turn into a fight. A fight? The idea surprised me. Was that what it was going to come down to? Was I going to have to fight my sisters over the granddaughter of Tom Hancock? I could feel Maris’s frenzy, electric on the air. She was like a piranha with blood in the water.
And how would I do in a fight against them? One-on-one I’d fare well. But three-on-one I didn’t stand a chance. We were all fast, all skilled killers by nature. Or nurture? I’d never met another mermaid who lived any differently, but Lily’s words haunted me. Was I the way I was because of Maris? Had she taught me to be this way? Was it possible to find my own happiness?
If there was a fight, I wondered whom Tallulah would side with. I couldn’t imagine her letting Maris destroy me. Still …
“Dinner,” Maris said. “I guess I’m glad to hear that much.”
My resolve strengthened. With or without Tallulah, I would fight for Lily. She was good. And she was innocent. And she had no part in the sins of her grandfather. But I couldn’t trust Maris not to take matters into her own hands. I would have to stay close to Lily to make sure she was safe. I couldn’t leave her unprotected when it was all my fault that she was in danger.
That meant no longer sleeping on Basswood with my sisters. I’d tell them I needed to be alone to think—to keep my mind sharp on the plan. Because despite my feelings for Lily, despite my need to protect her, I needed the plan to continue for my own selfish desires. It was no longer about revenge. I needed Maris to be successful because only then would I be free to leave my sisters, without any obligation to do their bidding. That was our deal. I would be free. I could see if it was possible to be happy, as Lily had promised. And I could take Lily with me, and we could live like normal people. Or maybe … I stopped myself before my fantasies took over.
I knew I could never chance a reinvigoration with her. The likelihood of it working was next to nothing. Maybe I could practice on someone else first, just to see … but I had to stop that idea, too. While it might have made sense to me not so long ago, Lily had changed my way of thinking. How could I play Russian roulette with someone else’s Lily?
I couldn’t shake the fantasy completely. The idea of the two of us living together naturally, without any pretext, was tantalizing. I would have to push it far away before it could become too firmly rooted in my brain. Recklessness wouldn’t do anyone any good. I was already walking a tightrope, balancing precariously between meeting Lily’s needs and satisfying my sisters’.
I must have glazed over as these thoughts were tripping through my mind. Pavati was snapping her fingers in front of my eyes.
“Hey, Calder,” Maris said. “Earth to asshole. How are you going to work out the fishing trip with Hancock?” Maris was bent over at the waist, yelling down into my face.
“Hancock is going to teach some kind of nature course at the college,” I said. “I’ll ask him to take me out on the lake. He doesn’t fish, but it could just be a boat ride. A little nature lesson or something.”
The girls now sat in satisfied silence. Pavati elbowed me and said, “So, what are you going to wear to dinner?”
30
SHOPPING SPREE
Pavati parked our car at the far end of the JCPenney parking lot. Tallulah and I got out of the backseat, and Pavati tossed the keys over the roof of the car to me. I snagged them out of the air and pocketed them in my cargo shorts, which—now that I looked at them—had seen better days. The tip of one of the keys hung through a hole in the pocket.
“I think you’re right about the clothes, Pav. It might be time to burn these.”
She rounded the car and mock-appraised my T-shirt-and-shorts look as if she hadn’t given it much thought before.
“Don’t worry. When we’re through with you, you’ll look like a proper boyfriend.”
Tallulah winced. “Come on. Let’s get this over with. There’s too many people here. It gives me the creeps.”
I knew what she meant. The emotional tenor of each person blended with the next. Bring on a crowd, and there was a cacophony of sentiments and passions that created a constant buzzing and distortion of muddled colors. We’d all have decent headaches if we stayed more than fifteen minutes.
Pavati entered the store ahead of me and Lu, and I dropped my Ray-Bans over my eyes to fend off the glare. A group of shaggy-haired white boys in baggy pants and NBA jerseys backed up to give us a wide berth.
“Maybe you should ask them who their stylist is,” Pavati whispered.
“Ugh,” Tallulah said, slinging a bag over her shoulder. “Could you please stop kidding around? Where’s the men’s department?”
“There,” Pavati said, pointing to the back of the store. “I’m thinking something classic. Maybe a simple oxford shirt, definitely new khakis. Your old ones smell like kelp, and the cuffs are all worn.”
“Aw, Pavati, I had no idea you were paying attention.”
We navigated between carousels crowded with children’s rompers, junior fashions, then ladies’ dresses. We passed a shoe display, and I grabbed a box of Sperry Top-Siders as Pavati pulled me toward the back. Shoes, I thought. I hadn’t given any thought to new shoes. It didn’t look like the girls had, either. I was glad I spotted them. Proper boyfriends probably didn’t show up at the door barefoot.
Tallulah walked over to a display of shirts, all folded and pinned into tightly bound packages arrange
d by size and color. She didn’t waste any time being particular. She yanked a medium in green off the shelf and slapped the package against my chest. “Here. That’ll go with your eyes.”
I grabbed the shirt before she let go. “Something bothering you, Lu?”
Her mouth twisted up to one side. She was just about to say something when a store clerk approached us.
“Can I help you find something?” the woman asked. She was wearing a name badge that declared her name was Jo-Ellen. She fingered nervously at her frosted hair as Pavati took a menacing step toward her.
“Actually, you can, Jo-Ellen. I was hoping to find a new dress for a cocktail party I’m attending next weekend. Something in pink, perhaps?”
Pavati held her gaze as the woman flushed and said, “Certainly, certainly. This way.” Pavati wiggled her eyebrows at us before she followed Jo-Ellen.
Tallulah slipped my new shirt into her bag with the agility of a sleight-of-hand magician, then she pulled at my elbow. “Pants are over here.”
I grabbed Tallulah by the shoulder and whipped her around. Her normally placid expression faltered, and the fluorescent lights reflected off her wet eyes. “What’s wrong?” I demanded.
“Nothing’s wrong.” She faked a smile. “I’m getting a headache. That’s all. Let’s hurry this up, okay?”
I released my grip and watched her walk away. She stopped beside a carousel of men’s dress pants and flipped through them all, making a scraping sound with the swipe of each hanger on the metal rod. “Too dark, too pleated, too old man–ish …” I had my back turned to her selection process, keeping watch. I didn’t really have an eye for fashion. I was better suited as a lookout.
She pushed me into a dressing room with a pair of black pants. A few seconds later I tossed my shorts and the shoe box over the door at her. When I came out of the dressing room, she’d already stashed my discards somewhere for some unsuspecting clerk to find.
I held my arms out and waited for her opinion. She swirled her finger in a circle, and I turned around to model the pants.
“Nice legs,” she said, ripping off the tags.
“Shut up, Lulah.” I finished my last rotation and caught a glimpse of her dragging the back of her hand across the corner of her eye.
Pavati came up fast. “Ready?”
“Ready.”
Jo-Ellen was trailing far behind. “I’m so sorry we have no Versace, Ms. Vanderbilt.”
“Vanderbilt?” I asked.
Pavati winked, and we walked quickly toward the front of the store. The girls rubbed their hands together in a circular motion as we closed in on the doors. I snagged a pair of shorts off the rack and threw them in Tallulah’s bag.
Several curious salesclerks watched us coming, but as we walked through the security gate, the girls pressed their electrified palms to the sensors, scrambling the system. No one stopped us.
31
DINNER
When I knocked on the Hancocks’ door at six o’clock, Lily answered, her smile nearly reaching her ears. She’d pulled her hair back into a loose knot and covered her body in a high-necked lace blouse and a long black corduroy skirt. I missed all the skin and her pink glow from the day before. Tonight she was nervous.
Behind her, the house shone with wax and polish. A lightly stained pine plank floor replaced the old carpet and linoleum. Mrs. Hancock’s paintings hung on the walls. The windows reflected the light from a dozen candles. Lily noticed my new appearance, and her eyebrows rose in amusement.
“Shut up,” I whispered. “It’s called dinner with the parents.”
“No. You look good. Very … normal.”
“Perfect.” I winked and folded my hand around hers. “That’s exactly the look I was going for.”
She pulled her hand out, and this time I was the one to be surprised.
“Don’t overwhelm them,” she said. “I’ve never brought a boy home for dinner before.”
“It’s not my first time here.”
“This is different. They don’t need to freak out prematurely.”
“Got it.” I yanked her close to me and kissed her quickly. “No freaking them out.”
She laughed and led me into the living room. Hancock, Mrs. Hancock, and Sophie were standing in the room, as if they were posed and placed on marks.
“Good evening, Calder,” Mrs. Hancock said. “Nice of you to join us for dinner. Sorry your folks couldn’t make it.”
“They said to pass on their regrets.” I locked my teeth together and forced a smile.
“I hope you like chicken.”
“Chicken,” I repeated. I’d never tried it before. “Sounds great.”
“Can we get you something to drink?” Hancock asked.
“Coke?”
“Coming right up. Sophie?”
“Got it, Dad.”
We went farther into the room and took our seats on two small sofas. I couldn’t relax. My muscles constricted, and I sat ramrod straight and still, ready to bolt. Lily kept an anxious watch on my face. Sophie returned and set the Coke down on a cocktail napkin on the coffee table. The glass was sweating in the humidity. I wiped my index finger around its edge, calming myself with the moisture.
“Do you golf, Calder?” Hancock reached forward and scooped a handful of peanuts out of a bowl. He tossed them into his mouth one at a time.
“No, sir.”
“Play some football in high school?”
“Not really.”
“That’s too bad. You know what you’re made of after playing some football. I was a running back in my day. Number sixteen.”
“Calder was on the swim team, Dad,” Lily said, putting a coaster under my glass.
“Uh-huh. Going to give that Michael Phelps a run for his money?”
I smiled, imagining the matchup. “Oh, I think I could hold my own.”
“That’s right. It’s all in the attitude.”
Lily sat next to her dad and pecked his cheek. I flinched and looked away. Sophie sat in a chair across from me. I hadn’t been paying attention to her, but she was watching me intently. I smiled and raised my eyebrows at her. Her expression didn’t change.
Hancock reached forward for another handful of peanuts.
Lily fiddled with a loose thread on her cuff.
The only sound was the crunching of peanuts. I shook the ice in my glass.
Lily looked at me and crossed her eyes with a comic expression. Salvation came when Mrs. Hancock called us all for dinner. “Here we go,” Hancock announced, slapping his hands down on his knees to propel himself off the couch. “ ’Bout time.”
Lily gave him a swat as he passed in front of her.
I sat where Hancock indicated, and Lily sat between me and her father.
“That’s my chair,” Sophie said as she shot dagger eyes at Lily. Mrs. Hancock redirected Sophie to the other side of the table while she wheeled her chair into her own spot.
Lily served.
The plate in front of me was covered with something I’d never seen. The large white piece of flesh, I presumed, was chicken. But it was covered in a gelatinous soup concoction that spilled over the edges and pooled on the plate. I smiled weakly across the table at Mrs. Hancock and tried to be inconspicuous as I scraped the sauce off the meat. I took a bite. The chicken was warm and chewy. I choked it down and drained my water glass.
Lily scooped some spinach salad onto my plate and passed me the salt shaker. I looked at her gratefully and shook it liberally over everything. The rest of the food was in constant motion, being passed from father to mother to child and back again. Hancock poured Sophie a glass of milk and handed it down to her. Mrs. Hancock ladled a yellow noodle dish onto Sophie’s plate. It was all so … normal, exactly the way I imagined a real family to be. All that was missing was a dog lying under the table.
For a moment, I believed I could be part of this. I was born to this kind of life: the parents, the home, the meal. Maybe my human parents ate chicken, too. They were out
there somewhere. They might have even loved me. Did they search for me still, all these years later? I couldn’t imagine it.
Hancock asked, “You enjoy being up here for the summer, Calder?”
I passed the bread basket to Lily. “Very much so.”
“My whole life,” he said, “as long as I can remember, I’ve wanted to be here. It just kept gnawing at me. I’ve been to Erie, Michigan, Huron, Ontario.” He ticked off the names of the Great Lakes while waving his fork in the air. “But up until this spring, I’d never been to Lake Superior. Hard to believe, isn’t it?”
“Very. But Lily told me about that, sir. About your promise to your dad.”
Hancock chewed, then swallowed. He leaned onto the table toward me. “One thing I’ve always stood for: When you make a promise, Calder, you keep it. No matter how bad it hurts.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” I said. Best get this over with. “Get out on the lake much, Mr. Hancock?”
He looked at me, startled; then he lowered his lids to study me anew. “We have a couple kayaks. And there’s a small fishing boat. But I never learned to swim, and I’m not a boater.” He paused. “You seem shocked.”
“Oh, no, sir, it’s just that—”
“The Great Lakes can be dangerous—fascinating, too—but dangerous, particularly when you don’t know what you’re doing. I suppose you heard about those three college kids whose boat was found without them?” He shook his head and scraped his fork on the china plate. “I’ll be surprised if they ever turn up.” Then he pointed his fork at Lily and stabbed at the air with each word: “Lake Superior does not give up its dead.”
Hancock grimaced and cleared his throat. “Anyway, I’d rather study the history of the lake than float on it all day. Did you know they discovered an underwater roadway? I’ve seen pictures. It looks like a paved Roman road. Now, that’s a fascinating discovery. A real Atlantis of sorts.”
I was aware of it. I didn’t know any humans had found it. “A man-made road? Underwater? I’d like to see that.”
Lies Beneath Page 18
