“May I?” I asked, gesturing to the painting.
“Of course,” he replied. He folded his arms across his chest and looked at the painting. “The purple was really something tonight, wasn’t it?”
“It reminded me of fuchsias. You’ve captured it flawlessly.” He’d mixed the layers perfectly, even catching the colors reflected along the dark waves and the hint of night sky just at the edge.
“I’m just an amateur,” he replied. “But I missed these sunsets.” He picked up the canvas, careful not to bump the paint, folded the easel, which he stuck under his arm, then lifted his paint box. We turned and started down the beach.
“Missed? Are you from here?”
He nodded. “My grandma raised me. She’s passed on now, but I grew up here. I just came back a month or so ago.”
“Oh,” I replied, trying to choke down the million or more questions that wanted to come next. “I’m sorry about your grandmother.”
“Yeah, lost her about five years ago. Alberta Pearl? Maybe you knew her?”
I nodded. I did know her, when she was about six. “She lived in the little house on Juniper Lane?”
Cooper nodded. “That’s the place.”
That explained why he was always on my stretch of the beach. There was a walking path through the woods from the end of Juniper Lane to the shore. I smiled at him. “I knew her. Delightful girl,” I replied.
In the fifties, she used to come into my soda shop. She always asked for an extra cherry on her sundae. Cheeky little thing with dark hair and clear blue eyes, she was one of my favorite children in town. Like always, I wasn’t able to stay in Chancellor too long. People would start to notice how well-kept I was. I’d moved when Alberta was still little and had only been back for the last year myself. When my tenants moved out of the building I owned downtown, I’d decided enough time had passed. All those who could remember me were dead, including little Alberta Pearl. I loved Chancellor. It was the town closest to my home below the waves. I was glad to be back.
“You have a shop downtown, right? The little boutique?” Cooper asked.
I nodded. “The Glass Mermaid.”
“That’s it. I noticed the sign. I liked your mermaid.”
I grinned. If he only knew. “Thank you. I make jewelry,” I said then motioned to the red beach glass, “with the glass.”
Cooper smiled again. “I’ll stop by and have a look.”
Having just been turned down for coffee, I wasn’t sure what to say. “Sure,” I replied.
We reached the boardwalk leading to my house.
“Nice to finally talk to you, Kate. I’ll keep an eye out for more beach glass for you.”
“Thank you, and thank you for the trinket,” I said, still clutching the red glass.
He nodded, his hands full, then smiled and headed back up the beach.
Not wanting to look like a heartbroken teenager, I headed down the boardwalk toward my cabin, pausing just once to glance his direction. To my surprise, he was also glancing back at me. Caught, both of us laughed. I smiled, waved, and then headed into the house.
Once inside, I stared down at the red sea glass…a red heart…a gift from the deep.
Chapter 4: Kate
The bell above the front door of my shop rang when I pushed it open the next morning. The small place, which I’d picked up for a steal during the Great Depression just after the dress shop therein had gone out of business, had a dated charm. A brick beauty constructed during the Victorian era. It boasted high ceilings with elaborate molding, a massive stone fireplace, wood floors, and a glimmering chandelier. After I purchased it, I’d converted it into a soda shop. The glass-lined soda fountain wall and counter was still there. The previous owners had used it as a bookstore. It still carried the sweet scent of old books, many of which I had stored in the back. Now, however, it was my small boutique.
I clicked on the lights. The chandelier sparkled, casting blobs of prismatic rainbows onto the ceiling that I’d painted to look like a cloudy sky. The aquamarine colored walls, trimmed with white molding, reminded me of waves and bubbly sea foam.
Tidying up a display of ships in a bottle, then stopping to breathe deeply beside the handmade soap stand, I headed to the back and turned on the sound system. Moments later, big band music swept through the store. I tapped my fingers along with the music as I sparked up the cash register. I closed my eyes, swaying to the music, remembering a hot summer night long past at the Chancellor Dance Hall and the delicious sailor I’d spent that night with before he shipped out to fight in World Word II. He never came home. From the roaring 20s through the swinging 40s, I must have had what humans call a midlife crisis. I spent twenty odd years running my soda shop in the daytime and doing the jitterbug at night. I’d been a flapper girl. The name always amused me. Some years later, the people of Chancellor started to remark on how young I looked. I left Chancellor. I roamed from town after town along the Great Lakes for nearly thirty years looking for others like me. But I’d never seen a single mermaid or merman anywhere. I finally gave up. There was no one. It was just me. I was glad to be back in Chancellor. When I looked out at the lake, knowing my old underwater kingdom was not so long of a swim away, I felt like I’d come home.
Smiling, I grabbed my duster, and worked my way around the store. When I was done, I headed to my workbench at the back. I set out last night’s haul of beach glass on the table, including the red beach glass Cooper had given me. Now, just what was I going to do with that? I snapped on the desk light and slid the pieces of glass under the magnifying lens. I’d given all the pieces of glass a bath after I got home last night, now I just needed to check them. One of the blue pieces had a small flower design on the glass. Probably an old perfume bottle. That piece would sell well. I set it aside.
“Mornin’,” a voice called from the door. “Where are you, Katie Bug?”
“Making jewelry,” I replied. It was Alice, my friend and the owner of the bagel shop, Hole Lot of Bagels, across the street.
“Moon River,” Alice sang loudly and off key as she headed back.
“This isn’t Moon River,” I called with a laugh.
“How the hell would I know? This is my grandma’s kind of music,” she replied with a laugh, setting a to-go box and a cup of coffee down in front of me.
“My customers like it.”
“Wow, where did you find this?” Alice asked, picking up the red beach glass.
“Well, I—“ I began, but Alice interrupted.
“Oh, Kate. Can I have it? Will you make me a necklace? Please? Free coffee the rest of the year!”
“You bring me free coffee almost every day anyway. And no, you can’t have it. I wasn’t the one who found it.”
“Bummer. Commission?” she asked then, looking through the other pieces of glass on my workbench.
“Not quite. The painter gave it to me.”
“No. Freaking. Way. You talked to him?”
“Just a little. His name is Cooper. He’s from here, I guess.”
Alice had moved to Chancellor relatively recently. She’d studied culinary arts at Chancellor College, the small liberal arts college in town, then stayed after she graduated to open her deli and bakery. She wasn’t a local. “So, how is he? He looks gorgeous from afar. Is he weird?”
I laughed. “No, he was polite. And he is gorgeous. And he turned me down for coffee, but he did give me this,” I said, picking up the red glass.
“Turned you down?”
I nodded.
Alice looked perplexed. “He’s gay.”
I shook my head. “I don’t think so.”
“Kate, what man in their right mind would turn you down? You have turned down every man in this town.”
“I don’t know,” I said, opening the deli box. I was treated to the scent of a freshly toasted bagel and the ripeness of cream cheese. “There was a vibe there, but he didn’t…I don’t think he’s interested. Probably a good thing. The last thing I need is to
get involved with someone.” I picked up the bagel and took a bite.
“Well,” Alice said with a grin, “you better wipe that cream cheese off your lip just in case.”
“In case?”
“In case you’re wrong, because your painter is headed this way, and he’s carrying something big,” she said, gazing out the front window.
Chapter 5: Cooper
Stupid, stupid, stupid. I chided myself with every step I made as I walked from Juniper Lane toward the shop on Main Street. I’d been doing a good job of lying low since I got back. In spite of my gran’s friends’ best efforts to get me out socializing, I’d managed to avoid it. Those sweet old gals didn’t know, and I had no intention of telling them, why I was keeping to myself. I didn’t need a bunch of mother hens checking in on me. As it was, I slept most of the day anyway. The meds always made me nauseous. I hardly needed anyone seeing me throwing up or lying in a sweaty ball of clammy nausea. No one else needed to be dragged into my personal hell. But if that was the case, if that was how I really felt, why was I walking down Main Street toward The Glass Mermaid?
The wind whipped harshly, pressing against the canvas. I braced myself, holding on tight to the painting. Dammit, why was it so cold? I remembered riding my bike to Frog Creek at this time of year, spending the day swimming, fishing, and catching crawfish. It was May. Why was it so cold in May?
I paused when I came upon the shop. The teal-colored wooden sign hanging over the front door depicted a mermaid holding a heart in her hand. It rocked in the breeze. In the front window was a life-sized mermaid statue. Showing her sense of humor, Kate had put a t-shirt with the saying “I’d rather be a mermaid” on the statue, covering what was probably a clam-shell bra. My thoughts betrayed me for a moment as I remembered the way Kate’s white T-shirt had hugged her body, stretching across her large breasts.
Stupid, stupid, stupid, I cursed myself again as gripped the canvas tightly.
Then I remembered something my gran used to say. “It’s not nice to call someone stupid.”
Well, okay then, maybe I wasn’t stupid, but I surely had no business getting tangled up with this girl. Not now. It’s just she looked so taken aback, disappointed even, when I’d turned her down for coffee. It wasn’t like I hadn’t wanted to go. I did. With every poisoned ounce of me, I did. I just couldn’t. But I hadn’t meant to hurt her feelings.
The bell over the door rang when I pushed it open. I was greeted with warm, soft light, and the sound of swing music. No way. I loved this kind of music.
“Hi,” a dark-haired woman called as she crossed the shop toward me.
I smiled at her. While I didn’t know her name, I’d seen her around town. Then I noticed the apron she was wearing. It was dark green with a bagel above the heart. That’s where I’d seen her, at the deli across the street.
“Hi,” I replied. “Is Kate—”
“She’s in the back,” the girl said, pushing open the door. “Later, Kater,” she called toward the back of the shop.
“See ya,” I heard the melodious voice reply. Then, I saw her. Kate smiled as she rose from a small workbench at the back of the store, clicked off a desk lamp, and then came toward me.
I could feel my heart pounding in my chest, and a moment later, a wave of nausea swept over me. Great. Just what I needed. Not now.
“Cooper?” she called.
“Hi, Kate.”
“Done already?”
“Done?”
“Your sunrise painting,” she answered, then I saw a guilty expression cross her face, like she’d been caught knowing something she shouldn’t have.
It made me happy to know she’d noticed me too. “I was out first thing, just did a quick watercolor. I wanted to bring you something,” I said then, motioning to the covered canvas. I realized then that this was twice in the last twenty-four hours that I’d brought this woman a gift. No wonder she looked confused when I turned her down for coffee. Maybe I was making a huge mistake. I didn’t want to lead her on, I just didn’t want her to look sad like that…ever again.
Kate smiled, her dark-blue eyes twinkling in the chandelier light.
I handed the canvas to her.
“For me? Really?”
I nodded.
Carefully, she unwrapped the crinkly brown paper.
“It was in my gran’s closet,” I said then. “It’s not a masterpiece or anything. I painted it during my senior year in high school. Gran always liked the mermaid folktales from this area, used to tell me them as a kid.”
Kate’s eyes went wide as she studied the painting.
I looked at the canvas. It wasn’t a bad painting. It depicted a mermaid sitting in the water, her body half-in and half-out of the water. Her back was to the viewer, letting them look out at the lake with her. I had loved painting the cutaway element, showing the small fish and plants under the water, and the mermaid’s tail. From above the surface, she looked like a woman sitting in the water looking out at the lake. What she really was lay beneath.
No, it wasn’t a bad painting. I used to paint more when I was younger, back before everyone talked me into pursuing a real job. Honestly, I’d just wanted to be a painter. But who can do that these days? This wasn’t the Renaissance, and money makes the world go ‘round. Maybe if I knew then what I knew now, I would have just followed my bliss. But my years of working with children and dolphins hadn’t been for nothing. We’d helped a lot of kids and learned a lot in the process.
“It’s stunning,” she finally said.
“It’s just gathering dust. I thought you might like it for the shop.”
“This should be displayed. Cooper, it’s so…touching,” she said, tears welling in her eyes.
Her joy filled me with so much happiness that for a moment, I forgot everything. I stepped a little closer to the painting…to her. Gently, I set my hand on the small of her back as we looked on. “There are lots of old stories from this area about mermaids. Have you ever heard them? The Native Americans from this area swore mermaids lived in Lake Erie. They called them something else though.”
“Lumpeguin,” Kate said in almost a whisper.
“That’s right, lumpeguin. You’ve heard the stories then?”
“Yes.”
“I painted this for our senior project. We had to paint something relevant to Chancellor. This is actually a cool place, lots of folktales about witches, mermaids, and faerie people. But I was the only one to paint a mermaid…well, a lumpeguin.”
“I don’t know what to say,” Kate said then, and I could see she was truly speechless.
I couldn’t help but feel a little pleased with myself. This was the reaction I’d hoped for, whether I wanted to admit it or not.
“So, you like swing music?” I asked.
Kate took a deep breath, shook her head slightly, like she was lost in her thoughts, then said “Sorry?”
“Big band music?”
She giggled a sweet sound like the chiming of a bell. “I love it.”
“There is a dance tomorrow night at the old Chancellor Dance Hall. It’s mainly for the senior citizens, but my gran’s friends have been trying to get me out of the house. I guess they have a swing band. Those old gals, I hate to keep disappointing them. Maybe if I came one time—”
“What time should I be ready?”
“Eight.”
“Sounds great.”
“It’s a date then.” The words came flying out of my mouth before I could stop them, and when Kate looked at me, I saw the same startled reflection on her face.
We grinned at one another.
“Thank you again for the painting,” Kate said. She carefully set the canvas on the floor, propping it against a display of blown-glass witch balls. She then turned and took my hand in hers. “Really, it’s remarkable.”
Something desperate stirred in me, and I moved closer to her. I moved my hand from her back to her hip, holding her a bit more firmly. I could feel warmth emanating from her. I looke
d down at her sweet, petite face. She had wide dark-blue eyes and perfectly-drawn pink lips that looked so soft, so sweet.
Surprising me yet again, Kate put her hand on my shoulder. “Shall we practice? My jitterbug is rusty,” she said then turned me, spinning me to the music.
I laughed out loud. Kate giggled. Moving carefully around the displays, we danced. Her face glowed. She had this magic to her. Her sweet, melodious laughter entranced me.
A moment later, the bell over the front door rang, and three older women entered. At the head of the pack, I saw Tootie Row, chief instigator of my gran’s old sisterhood.
“Well, well,” she said, spotting us. “Now, that’s what I like to see!”
I gave Kate a good spin, then smiling, gently let her go. She giggled, covering her mouth with her hand.
“I see you’ve met Kate,” Tootie said.
I nodded.
“She’s almost as stubborn as you,” the white-haired woman replied.
“Well, you don’t have to worry about that anymore,” I told Tootie then turned back to Kate. “Tomorrow, then?” I asked her.
“Tomorrow.”
I then turned to Tootie who was smiling at me. “There, now you can leave me be,” I said, then kissed her on the cheek. I caught her sweet scent of rosewater perfume and cold cream. The smell took me back to my childhood and flooded me with memories of my grandmother.
“Now, that’s a good boy,” she said, patting my cheek. “Alberta is smiling at you, Cooper.”
I grinned. I’d just done the exact thing I’d sworn I wouldn’t do, but for some reason, I didn’t have the heart to be mad at myself.
Chapter 6: Kate
I spent the rest of the afternoon fighting a war inside myself. As I sat making jewelry and thinking about Cooper, and I couldn’t help but smile. It had been a long time since I’d met anyone who lit up a spark inside me. And Cooper, well, just seeing him from a distance had lit up a spark. Watching him walk down the beach every dawn and dusk had made me feel like lightning was shooting through my skin. Now that I’d actually met him, I felt like a bonfire was burning inside me. I hadn’t felt anything like it since my first love, Kadan, the merman I’d lost along with everything and everyone else I loved in the black days.
Falling in Deep Collection Box Set Page 64
