Grandpa folded the paper and pushed himself out of the chair. “A day and a half.”
“What?” He groaned, grasping the bed rail.
“Now, son, don’t make me call the nice nurse again.” Grandpa laid his hand on AJ’s shoulder. “You need to get well.”
“I have to find her. Before Chaz does.”
“You needn’t worry about him.” At AJ’s confused look, Grandpa smiled. “Tobias did a background check, rather belatedly, and found Chaz had some outstanding warrants. Attempted murder and grand larceny, among them. He’s in police custody. Seems no one wanted to put up bail. Imagine that.” Grandpa chuckled.
AJ exhaled and relaxed onto the pillow. “But…”
His face grave, Grandpa stood by the bed. “Listen to me. You lost quite a bit of blood. Luckily, the buffoon’s aim was off, and he didn’t damage any vital organs. But you need to recover.”
“She’ll be waiting for me. I have to go.” His toneless voice lacked conviction. He felt like such a wimp.
“You wouldn’t be able to see her anyway.” Grandpa moved to the window.
“Why?” Something was wrong. He knew Grandpa’s evasive moves. “Tell me. Is she all right?”
“Yes, and we want to keep it that way.” His grandfather looked at AJ, then walked to the bed and picked up the remote. The TV clicked on. The news. Grandpa’s favorite channel.
Why wasn’t he answering the question? AJ didn’t give a shit about the news. “Did something happen to her?”
“No. But Chaz has an extraordinarily big mouth.” Grandpa turned up the volume. The female anchor said, “And now back to the local story about a man who insists he found a real mermaid.”
Fear brought clarity to AJ’s focus. “Oh, God.”
The newswoman continued as the scene shifted to the beach. His rocks. Cassiopeia’s rocks.
“No.” This was a nightmare. The worst nightmare he could imagine.
The newswoman continued, “This station has been unable to substantiate the claims of Charles Womack, who is now in police custody on felony charges. Let’s go to Dave Shue, who’s on the scene. Dave, what can you tell us?”
“Thanks, Marlene. As you know, Charles Womack was a former employee at Weeki Wachee Springs, home of the Weeki Wachee mermaids. According to Mr. Womack, these lovely ladies aren’t the only mermaids in town.” The camera switched to the Underwater Theater, where Susie and Darlene swam in their costumes, smiling for viewers.
Tobias appeared on the screen as the reporter asked, “And what do you have to say about Mr. Womack’s claims?”
Without flinching, Tobias answered, “The boy’s nothing but trouble. A two-bit shyster. Police can confirm it.”
“So you deny this magical mermaid exists?” The reporter shoved the microphone in Tobias’ face.
Tobias gazed keenly into the camera. “Not at all. Nineteen mermaids perform here every day. Plenty of folks can tell you now magical they are. I invite everyone to come see for yourselves.” He flashed his best smile, the one reserved for customers. The camera pulled back to show the Weeki Wachee entrance.
Grandpa grunted. “Free publicity. Tobias is a genius.”
The reporter chuckled as he signed off. “That’s all from Weeki Wachee. Marlene, back to you.”
The female anchor said, “Thanks, Dave. Mr. Womack claims his partner, Andrew James Dillon, known as AJ, also swindled him, but News 4 has been unable to substantiate the claim, because Mr. Dillon is currently hospitalized.” She shuffled the papers on her desk. “In other news…”
Grandpa turned down the volume.
AJ tried to read his grandfather’s face. “Did reporters come here?”
“Tried to.” Grandpa sat. “So you see, son, if you were to go find your mermaid, you’d have a crowd following you.”
“But they’re at the beach now. What if she goes there, and they see her?”
“She’s smarter than that. Tobias warned her to be careful.”
AJ couldn’t argue. Cassiopeia was the smartest girl he’d ever met. And the strongest. But if anyone were to catch her digital image, a mer hunt would follow. None of her people would ever be safe again.
To go there would further endanger her, like Grandpa said.
He twisted his head toward the window.
There was a good chance he would never see her again.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Morning broke slowly, and a dim grey light eked through the window.
Grandpa walked in carrying a plastic grocery bag. “How do you feel today?”
“All right. I walked a little more last night.” Tired of laying on his back for days, AJ pressed the incline button on his bed to the maximum.
Grandpa set the bag on the chair. “Excellent. Do you feel well enough to go home?”
AJ leaned up too quickly and sucked air through his teeth. “Home?”
“The doctor approved your release. I brought some clothes. I hope these will do.” He opened the bag and pulled out a T-shirt and jeans.
“Those are great.” AJ swung a leg over the side, ignoring the pain in his side. “I need to get the hell out of here.”
Taking hold of AJ’s underarms, Grandpa steadied him. “Take it slowly. I’ll help.”
AJ tried to shrug him away. “I’m all right.”
Grandpa’s voice was stern. “AJ. I will bring you home under two conditions.”
At his grandfather’s uncompromising tone, AJ rested against the bed and waited.
“First, you must promise me you will rest. You cannot rush your recovery, or you’ll only set yourself back further.” Grandpa’s scowl left no doubt his terms were final.
AJ exhaled. “OK. And?”
“And you must allow me to do things for you. It’s no disgrace to accept help when you’re in need. We’re family.”
AJ had ignored his grandfather for years, blew off invitations to come visit. If anyone else had agreed to take him in, he wouldn’t have come to Florida.
It would have been the worst mistake of his life.
“Yeah. We’re family.”
This time, when his grandfather reached to help him up, AJ didn’t wrench his arm away. They shuffled to the rest room. Grandpa held his boxers wide, then his jeans, so AJ could step in, one aching leg at a time.
Clothes helped AJ feel slightly more human. Grandpa held his waist and walked him to the bed.
Grandpa leveled his gaze at AJ. “There is a reporter and cameraman waiting outside.”
“What?” Unbelievable. They weren’t going to let this go.
He sat against the bed while Grandpa slipped AJ’s shoes on his feet. “They heard you were being released.”
“Oh, man.” Maybe he could stay here awhile longer. Avoid them.
“Simply tell them you worked with Chaz, and know nothing of his accusations. Say you have no idea what he’s talking about. When they ask about your injury, say you had an accident at home. I’ll back you up.” Grandpa grabbed the foot rail to hoist himself up. “I’ll go get the wheelchair so we can go home.”
With sudden clarity, AJ realized how much his grandfather had done for him. How much AJ needed him. “Grandpa.”
His grandfather turned. “Hmm?”
So much to repay him for. AJ would never be able. “Thanks.”
Grandpa winked and walked out.
A uniformed hospital worker brought the paperwork, and AJ signed. Four days in the hospital–what would this bill cost? He’d get a second job. He’d go back to music gigs. He’d take care of it on his own. He wasn’t about to ask for any more help.
As his grandfather wheeled him through the hospital doors, the cameraman flicked on the spotlight above his video cam and aimed it at AJ.
The reporter stepped into their path. “Andrew James Dillon? What can you tell us about Charles Womack’s claims about a mermaid?”
The calm with which AJ answered surprised even him. “We work at Weeki Wachee Springs with mermaids every day.”
Grandpa skirted the wheelchair around the reporter, who followed. “But what of his claim you stole a mermaid from him?”
AJ blew through his lips. “He’s jealous one of the mermaids liked me, and not him. The guy’s crazy. He’ll say anything.”
As Grandpa opened the Caprice door and helped AJ stand, the reporter continued. “How did you sustain your injury?”
“At home. Ladder gave way.” AJ eased inside the car as his grandfather hurried the wheelchair back inside.
“You fell off a ladder?” The reporter’s official tone turned conversational, then ended on a whining note. He turned to the cameraman. “Shut it off. This won’t make it out of the editing room.”
Grandpa got in and started the engine. His oldies radio station blared, and he flicked the volume knob down. “They look terribly disappointed.”
“They were.” AJ held back a smile as he looked at his grandfather, then laughed, and immediately winced with pain.
Pulling from the parking spot, Grandpa waved at the cameraman and the disappointed reporter standing near the news van. “Next time, maybe they’ll know better than to listen to a criminal.”
AJ watched the cameraman pack his gear into the van, then slide the door shut. “Do you think they’ll still check the beach?”
Grandpa steered the Caprice onto the street. “Hard to say. If it’s a slow news day, they might go back, or try to dredge up other leads. It may not be safe for quite some time.”
They rode the last stretch home without speaking. AJ waited for Grandpa to help him out of the car and up the walk.
AJ steered him toward his room. He hadn’t held his guitar in too long. His fingers ached for the strings.
After Grandpa eased AJ onto the bed, he asked, “How about some lunch?”
“Sure. I haven’t had a meatball sandwich in too long.” He smiled.
Grandpa folded his arms. “All right, then. I’ll save the pizza for dinner.”
AJ’s laugh pierced his side with pain. “Pizza? You held out on me.”
“Oh, only until dinner.” Grandpa chuckled and walked down the hall.
In the kitchen, the clank of pans and thuds of cabinet doors sounded. A good feeling came over AJ. This was home, his first home, the only place that ever really felt like home.
He pulled his guitar to his chest, and relaxed against the pillows with his eyes closed.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
AJ hobbled out to the sofa for dinner. As promised, Grandpa had a pizza delivered. They watched the evening news as they ate. The reporter had called it correctly. The six o’clock edition closed without any mention of AJ’s release from the hospital, and said nothing further about Chaz.
Until any new details surfaced about Chaz, the story was old news.
“More milk?” Grandpa asked as he stood.
AJ grinned. “Sure I can’t have a beer?”
Grandpa rested his hand on the sofa. “Doctor’s orders. For now.”
“Nah, I’m fine, then.”
In the kitchen, Grandpa pulled a beer and popped the top. “I spoke with your mother last night.”
Ugh. AJ didn’t want to hear any more about the wedding. Not now.
Grandpa walked back to the sofa. “She’s coming this weekend.”
“No.” AJ dropped his head against the back of the sofa.
“AJ. She is your mother. She became frantic to hear you’d been shot.” Grandpa’s voice softened. “She loves you, and deserves your respect.”
AJ pushed himself up. “Yeah. You’re right.” He picked up his pizza crust, set it back down. “Is she bringing… him?” He didn’t even know the guy’s name.
“Not this time.” Grandpa sounded as relieved as AJ felt.
If he had to deal with her, better to do it alone at first. It wasn’t like her not to hide behind some guy, though. Maybe he couldn’t make the trip. “When does she get in?”
“Friday evening. She’ll leave Sunday evening. She has a job.” Grandpa reported this last news with some wariness.
“Oh.” A job was nothing new. Staying at the job was another matter.
Grandpa arched his brows. “Two, in fact.” He chugged his beer.
AJ feigned delight. His mother had had a succession of jobs, just like AJ. Always taking classes, then switching to something else. Painting. Bookkeeping. Pottery. Massage therapy. You name it, his mother knew it. But she couldn’t stick with any of them. “What two jobs does she have now?”
“She works in a bead shop, and teaches jewelry-making classes. In addition, she sells the jewelry she makes online.” Resting a hand on his knee, Grandpa turned to him. “So, in fact, she has three jobs.”
AJ nodded. “Three. That’s a record.”
Grandpa reached for his paper plate and headed back to the kitchen.
“Did Tobias mention anything about my job?” AJ called over his shoulder.
Tobias had lost two employees in one day, with Chaz in jail and AJ in the hospital. How long could he hold the cruise job open? AJ guessed not long.
Grandpa threw the plates into the trash. “Tobias was very impressed with you. Not only the other day, but after the alligator incident as well. He’s hoping you’ll return after you recover.”
Stunned, AJ asked, “He’ll hold my job?”
Standing by the sofa, Grandpa folded his arms. “Bob agreed to put off his semi-retirement and fill in for you. He’s better off. He’d gamble his 401k away in all that spare time.”
Wow. AJ had lucked out. “Tobias is a good guy.”
“Yes, he is. He’s a good friend.” Grandpa asked, “Would you like to sit on the patio awhile? Get some fresh air?”
AJ sighed. “I hate to admit it, but I’m wiped. I think I’ll go back to bed.” He stood, waving off his grandfather’s attempts to help.
Grandpa walked him down the hallway. “Good. You lost a lot of blood. You need all the rest you can get.”
AJ eased onto his bed with a groan.
Rest, and a few more painkillers.
Chapter Thirty
On Friday, AJ promised his grandfather he’d be waiting at home when he brought Mom back from the airport. For four days, he’d done nothing but sleep, watch the news, eat and play his guitar. His side still hurt like hell, but restlessness propelled him to attempt a walk with Grandpa.
A short walk. He’d gone a block before his body turned traitor on him, and forced him to go back. He couldn’t have left the house by himself if he’d wanted to.
Waiting felt like torture, though. He made an attempt to straighten his bed covers. Grandpa had moved most of the boxes out of his room, at least. He washed the few plates and glasses from lunch, then went outside to sit on the glider. The late afternoon sun baked the patio stone like a brick oven. The metal glider absorbed the heat like a magnet. At first, it felt good to sit outside, to hear the waves break against the shore, gulls crying as they floated on air currents. After about two minutes, sweat broke on his forehead, and rather than adjust to the hot metal, his legs felt more and more burned. He went back inside the dim bungalow. With Grandpa out of the house, he could watch MTV, but these days, the station played less music than reality shows. Crap, all of it.
At least in his room, he could relax and play his guitar. The down time had allowed his creativity to surface, and he’d started four new songs. Five, if you count the one he barely begun before he got stuck on the refrain. This time, it didn’t bother him. It would come eventually. He’d keep at it until it did. And once he felt up to it, he’d book a gig. Solo. And as soon he had enough songs for a CD, he’d record one and send it out to every radio station on his own, if he had to. The look of excitement in Cassiopeia’s eyes as he’d sung to her had convinced him he was just as good, if not better, than any other musician.
This time, he wasn’t going to quit.
Chapter Thirty-One
In the hallway, footsteps approached as AJ strummed. His mother rushed at him, her face flushed with worry. The front door shut,
and his grandfather followed.
“Oh, Andrew James. What have you gotten yourself into now?” She sat on the bed and reached for him.
He put up his arm to block her hug. “I’m fine, Mom. Ow.”
She sat straight, and brushed the hair from AJ’s face. “I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?”
AJ leaned his head away. “I’m all right. Almost healed. Right, Grandpa?”
His grandfather leaned against the door jamb. “We’ll let the doctor make that determination.”
She caressed his arm. “What a maniac he must be to shoot you. I’m so glad he’s in jail.”
His mother looked different. Seemed different. Her blunt haircut stopped at her shoulders, rather than hanging halfway down her back in strands. She almost looked classy, with it swept to one side. More than that, she seemed more self-possessed. Not as flighty. Centered.
“Did you tell her?” AJ asked his grandfather, who suddenly found something interesting to look at on the floor.
She shifted to look at her father. “Tell me what?”
AJ fixed his gaze on her. “How it happened. And why.”
She shifted toward Grandpa. “You said he was a thug. Wanted by the police.”
“That’s only part of it,” AJ prompted his grandfather.
Grandpa inhaled deeply. “Diana…” He looked up at AJ.
She turned back to AJ, who averted his gaze. “OK, now. One of you needs to tell me the story. This obviously was no accident.”
AJ set his jaw. “No.”
Diana gripped his arms. “Are you in some sort of trouble, AJ?”
As he sat straight, he groaned. “No, Mom.”
“Then what? Tell me.” Her hands balled into fists against her legs.
Grandpa held out his hand. “Let’s all go to the patio and sit. There’s a nice breeze.”
“Yeah,” AJ said. “It’s too stuffy in here.” He had to get them out of his room, his only sanctuary.
She stood, and let her father escort her down the hall.
Movements came more easily to AJ now. “And we can all have a beer.”
Surfacing Page 14
