by A. L. Knorr
Kudos to my mom for not jumping up and down on the bed and shouting 'hallelujah'. Her eyes were shining with excitement but she also knew me well enough to know that just because everything had changed for me didn't mean things were any easier. I still had people I cared about here.
"I'm still not sure how ready I am to leave everything I've ever known behind and start a new life. But I also know that I can't just ignore the power I've been given," I said.
"Well, I thought the day would never come.” She tucked a stray lock of hair behind my ear. "We don't have to figure it all out right this instant. It's just a relief to hear you're open to it."
Just then there was a knock at the front door. We shared a look of surprise.
"Are you expecting somebody?" I asked, getting up and combing fingers through my hair to get out the worst of the bedhead.
"No. Are you?" She got up and pulled her robe over her pyjamas.
I shook my head and followed her to the front door. She unlocked and opened the inside door and there on the other side of the screen door was Antoni.
Forty
"Antoni!" Mom and I exclaimed at the same time.
"Hello again," he said. "I hope I didn't wake you?" He gestured at our pyjamas.
"No, no. Come on in." Mom opened the screen door for him and he stepped into our entrance. "What are you doing here? How did you find us?" she asked.
He was wearing a Novak polo, the same one he'd worn the day he'd caught me garbage collecting on the beach. He was also carrying a briefcase. As soon as he stepped in the door and I caught his scent, desire for him washed over me. I took a few steps back as he came into the house and the screen door closed behind him.
He took off his sunglasses and tucked them into his pocket. "Simon was kind enough to tell me where to find you. I was trying to call and text you, Targa," he said, looking at me. "But you didn't seem to be available."
I grimaced. I was probably in the ocean when he'd called, I hadn't even plugged my phone in before I fell into bed the night before. "Sorry, I forgot to plug it in.”
"That's ok. I'm here now and I need to speak with you," he said, looking from me to my mom. I turned to go to my room to put on some clothes when he added, "Both of you."
I turned back. "Okay. I'm just going to get dressed, I'll be quick." I suddenly remembered the dress and added, "Thank you for the dress, Antoni," I said, sincerely. "It was... an amazing gift. Truly."
"My pleasure," he said. He was looking me warmly in the eyes but he wasn't smiling. It struck me that there was something amiss about him. Was my thank you simply too feeble an appreciation for the kind gesture?
I walked up to him and gave him a hug. I felt his surprise at first and then he wrapped his arms around me and we melted together. I basked in the warmth and comfort of his touch. I breathed in his scent but was pleased to notice that rational thought had not vacated my brain the way it usually did. The want was there, but it wasn't overtaking me, making me lose control.
He gave a small cough and I remembered that my mom was still there in the room with us. Her presence didn't embarrass me, but I was sure it embarrassed him. I released him and turned towards my room.
Mom looked down at herself like she forgot what she was wearing. "Well, if she's going to be all proper and get dressed then I guess I should too. Will you excuse us for a moment?"
He nodded. "Shall I make us some coffee?" He gestured to the espresso maker sitting on the stove.
"Good idea," she answered as we walked down the hall. Then added over her shoulder, "Coffee canister is in the fridge."
We gave each other looks of confusion as we each reached our bedroom doors, which were across the hall from one another. "What's going on?" she mouthed to me.
"I have no idea," I mouthed back.
She shut her bedroom door behind her and I did the same.
I scrambled to find a clean pair of underwear, I hadn't done any laundry since we'd got home. Finally, I found a clean pair of shorts and a short sleeved terrycloth hoodie. I raked a brush through my hair and gave my cheeks a pinch. It worked for girls in Jane Austen stories, why not me? Then I cursed myself for being stupid. I wasn't supposed to attract him, I was supposed to repel him, wasn't I? Somehow I had forgotten the reasoning behind it all. I sighed, feeling ridiculous.
I went back to the kitchen and took a seat at the island. I watched Antoni pour espresso into our mismatched coffee cups. Mom joined us moments later wearing a pair of jeans and a Bluejacket t-shirt.
"I can imagine your surprise at seeing me here, especially since you left us only a few days ago," Antoni started as he handed the espresso around.
Just then, my mom's cell phone rang. She looked at the screen and said, "Hang on a sec, will you?"
"Apparently, I should have taken her number instead," Antoni murmured. He took a sip of his coffee and cocked an eyebrow at me. I smiled, sheepishly. Between my mom and I, it was usually me who was always glued to my cell phone.
"Hello," Mom answered. "Oh, hey Simon." She mouthed "Sorry" to Antoni over the mouthpiece.
He shook his head and mouthed back, "Don't worry."
I realized how much my mom's manners had improved since the trip to Gdańsk. She wouldn't have bothered apologizing to anyone for having to take a phone call before we'd left for Poland. I wondered how many swims in the Atlantic it was going to take before she was my brassy mother again.
"Oh, really?" My mom was saying, and she caught my eye. I was positive the call was about Eric. "Wow, that's a shock," she said, but her acting was horrible. She didn't sound shocked at all. "Ok, well I understand." She paused. Then, "I'm not going to pretend that, no." She moved into the living room to finish her phone call.
"How have you been?" Antoni said softly to me, so as not to disturb my mom.
"I've been good. How about you?" I said, cupping my hands around my warm mug. It wasn't like I could give him a rundown of everything that had happened to me over the last few days.
He cleared his throat, and I thought he appeared to be a bit nervous, which was unlike him. "Honestly Targa, I've been better." He had a way of completely disarming me when he was honest and vulnerable like that. I was thinking about how to respond when my mom said goodbye and hung up her cell.
"Everything okay?” I asked her.
She nodded. "Simon has fired Eric for poaching. He was just calling to let me know not to expect him back at work. He's livid. He's calling the whole team one by one today."
Antoni's eyebrows shot up, "I can't say I'm surprised he's been dismissed if you'll pardon me venturing a personal opinion," he said. "But I would never have guessed it would be for that."
"Yeah, you think you know someone..." Mom said. "But more surprising is that Eric told Simon he's going to apply to join the Sea Shepherd once he finishes his sentence."
Antoni dropped his chin in shock. "Aren't they a vigilante organization who fight poaching?"
"They are," confirmed my mom.
Antoni shook his head, "That's one heck of a one-eighty on Eric's part. I can't keep up."
"Pretty weird," I said, biting my cheeks to hide my smile. "So, what's so important that it brought you all the way across the Atlantic to our doorstep?"
He gestured to the chair beside me and said to my mom, "You might want to sit down."
She did, draping her arm over the back of my chair.
Antoni continued, "I have some unfortunate news." He folded his hands together in his lap. "The day after you left, Martinius had a stroke. Well, to be more precise he suffered three strokes, all within a period of 48 hours."
"What?" I said. A large, cold rock materialized in my stomach. "Will he recover?"
"No, actually. I'm very sorry to tell you that he passed away after the third stroke. Obviously, it was rather unexpected," he said, quietly.
I took a sharp breath. Only now did I noticed the dark smudges under Antoni's eyes, and he looked like he'd lost a bit of weight. He was grieving. No wonder he'd sai
d that he'd been better.
Mom was always quick to recover from shock, "I'm sorry to hear that Antoni, he was a good man," she said, simply.
"That he was," he agreed. "The funeral will be next Friday. Of course, it would be wonderful to have you there but there are no expectations on you to do so. I just wanted to make sure you knew."
"Did you come all this way to tell us this in person?" Mom asked, sounding doubtful. He could easily have called us.
He nodded, "I did, but that's not all. Before he died, Martinius was under enormous pressure to name an heir. As you know, he had placed a number of people from among the Novak executives as his successors, but he had never been fully happy with that. After he had the first stroke, which was a minor one, we thought he'd pull through, but it gave us all quite a scare. He lost some mobility in his right hand, but he still had the ability to speak. So, he called his lawyers and changed his will." He scratched at his jaw. He had more stubble there than normal.
"It caused quite a disruption in the company, I can tell you," he continued. "His wishes almost went unfulfilled. There were those who argued that the stroke had clouded his judgement. The Novak executives had a specialist run Martinius through a battery of tests in order to confirm that he was in possession of all of his mental faculties. He passed the tests with flying colours and the executives no longer had the right to say he was unfit."
My hands had grown very cold. The thought of Martinius having to prove his sanity after a stroke and in order to fight for his wishes made me feel nauseous. I hoped it sounded worse than it actually was.
"How awful," Mom said. And then she gasped, and covered her mouth with one hand as though she'd had a sudden realization. "Oh gosh. It's you! He's named you his heir?"
I looked from Mom to Antoni, my eyes feeling like if they went any wider they'd pop out of my head.
"No," said Antoni. "Actually, it's Targa."
Forty-One
The silence was deafening. The clock above our kitchen window could be heard as loudly as a hammer on metal as it counted by the seconds. The ticking sound fuzzed out and the edges of my vision blurred. I gripped the counter with both hands. Mom's hand touched my back, and it helped to ground me. "What do you mean, it’s me?" I finally replied.
Antoni held out his hands. "I don't understand it myself but I do know that Martinius was of sound mind when he made the change. I was there. I know him, probably better than anyone else in his life right now. He said you are family and that it couldn't go to anyone else as you are the youngest living Novak." His eyes bored into mine as he said these last three words, and they echoed around in my skull.
Mom and I shared a look. I knew what she was thinking. Martinius never believed her when she told him she wasn't Sybellen. Deep in his heart he believed she was his long lost family member, which in turn made me his family too. Maybe he thought that she'd just forgotten because as she'd explained, years in salt water can do that to a mermaid mind. Or maybe he just thought she was outright lying. We also had never said we weren't related to Sybellen somehow. Hadn't Mom admitted that it was possible or even probable that Sybellen was an ancestor? Whatever it was, it had been enough for Martinius.
"Are you?" Antoni's voice brought me back. He was looking between us from one face to the other.
"Are we what?" my mother countered, but she was fully aware of what he was asking. She was stalling for time. We had to assume that Antoni knew nothing of our real nature or our connection to Martinius. It would only lead to more questions and could get us into a real tangle.
"Family. Are you part of the Novak family? And if you are, why didn't you tell me?" Antoni had a minor note of accusation in his voice - hurt by the thought that I had kept it a secret from him.
"We're not," my mother insisted. "It's a mistake, Antoni. Martinius and I did have a talk about it. Martinius was convinced that we are distant relatives of the Novak family, but I'm sorry to disappoint you. It's just not true."
"Did this discussion happen when you barged into his library that day?" Antoni asked, this time keeping all accusation out of his tone. If he had any personal feelings about the way we'd stormed in on his former employer, he didn't show them.
"It was," my mom admitted. She didn't say anything else and several seconds of silence passed before Antoni prompted her for more information.
"Well, why would he think it to be true then? He wouldn't do so without reason."
Mom and I looked at each other. How did we explain this without telling him about the drawings of the masthead?
"He thought that there was a strong resemblance between us and the way his grandfather had always described Sybellen to him. Pale skin, black hair, blue eyes," she offered. It was lame, but I couldn't think of anything better.
"I see," Antoni said, looking unsatisfied. "There wasn't any more to it than that? A family tree or a distant relative with the right name? Anything like that?"
Mom shook her head, no.
"You have to go back and have the will changed again," I said. "Put it back the way it was and leave the Novak executives in charge."
But he was already shaking his head. "You don't understand, that's impossible. The will has been legalized and signed. There is nothing to be done." He opened the briefcase and removed a stack of paper. "In fact all that is left is for the two of you to sign."
"Why me, didn't he leave it to Targa?" my mom asked.
"You're involved too," explained Antoni. "He's left you all of The Sybellen's artifacts, the wreck site, the Novak salvage operations such as they are, and a few other tidbits, the bulk of which is artwork, I believe. Much of it is priceless, mind you."
He put a selection of documents in front of my mom and one in front of me. "Also, this is a bit complicated, but since Targa is a minor she can't fully take control of her inheritance until she turns 18. That leaves you in charge for now." He took two pens from his briefcase and set one before each of us. The stacks in front of us looked simply enormous. I watched all of this numbly.
"What if we refuse to sign?" I asked, hollowly.
"Please don't do that," he said, folding his hands in front of him. “His entire estate would go to the government. It would likely be dissolved and all assets liquidated. Or it will be dismantled and portions of it sold to competitors. That would, frankly, be a disaster. It would be unthinkable for a company with a 168-year legacy to end in such a way, and poor Martinius would roll over in his grave. I'm sure that you don't want to dishonour his memory."
Mom and I looked at each other with dismay. I saw that my mother didn't have a clue what to do. "We don't know how to run a company nor do we have the desire," she said, then turned to me and added, "I'm assuming you don't want to run a shipping empire, honey?"
I almost sputtered a laugh but the situation was too serious. I just shook my head.
"You don't need to run it," replied Antoni. "Once in charge you can assign whomever you wish to run it for you. You can be as involved or not as you want."
"Can't we just sign ownership over to you?" I asked.
Antoni's mouth twitched. "I appreciate the thought but no, you can't. The will stipulates that ownership of the company cannot be transferred for a period of fifteen years, unless in the event of death or serious illness." He focused on me, "I'm certain that Martinius was hoping that you'll eventually have a family and will continue the Novak line so that the company will remain in the hands of his descendants well into the future."
"But we're not even Novaks!" I said.
Antoni shrugged, "Martinius was convinced that you are. Perhaps you should have your family tree researched? Maybe there is a link that you're not aware of," he suggested.
"Not you too," I said.
Clearly, Antoni trusted his employer implicitly, even over our protestations. "He was certain," he said, "and Martinius doesn’t…didn’t draw conclusions lightly. He was lucid and sharp when he made this decision. Do you think he would trust the fate of his company to just anyone?
"
"Can we put you in charge?" Mom asked.
Antoni took a deep breath. "Ladies, look. I understand this is life-changing news, and perhaps I didn't deliver it in the most gentile way, but clearly Martinius trusted and believed in the two of you, family or not. My advice is to sign the documents because right now the fate of the company is in the hands of those that he has not deemed worthy. Once you've signed, then seek the advice of a lawyer, several lawyers if you wish. I know you may not fully understand the implications yet but this is a huge blessing, trust me. Now please," he put his hands together in a gesture of prayer. “Make Martinius a happy man, may he rest in peace. It was a nerve-wracking experience carrying unsigned documents of this importance over the ocean with me, please put me out of my misery. The company will run like clockwork without you until you've had a chance to digest everything. There is no rush to do anything, but there is a rush to have you step up and claim your inheritance."
He picked up the pens and set them down again with emphasis.
Mom and I looked at each other. Then we each picked up the pen in front of us.
I took a deep breath, scanned the document on the top and spotted the little yellow sticky tab pointing to the empty line. There were many more arrows poking out from between the sheets of paper in the stack.
I put pen to paper and began to sign my name.
Forty-Two
"What time is your plane?" I asked Antoni as we strolled along the beach. This time it was a proper beach, not the usual jagged mess of rocks and seaweed. This one was beautiful, with miles of golden sand.
"I told Ivan we'd leave by two thirty," he said, checking his watch. "Should head back to the airfield after lunch."
We strolled in silence for a time, the wind blowing gently. I caught his scent several times and it warmed me all over, but I no longer felt hammered by it. I was pleased by this change, guessing that it had to do with me coming into my powers. Someone really needed to write a scientific journal on mermaid biology, or better yet, elemental biology.
