by Esme Addison
Josephine laughed. “Lidia loves this story. Many of the surviving soldiers stayed on the island. One of those soldiers was a descendant of the Mermaid of Warsaw, a very brave warrior, a Merman. And he married a local girl who was a high priestess to Mami Wata. Known on the island as a true water witch.” She smiled. “The rest is Magical history.”
Alex looked first at Josephine and then at Celeste. “So you’re … half mermaid … half water witch?”
Celeste exchanged knowing glances with her mother. “Yeah. Kinda cool, huh?”
“Wow. Yes, very cool.”
“Great-great-grandmother moved to Bellamy Bay because she’d heard from some sailors on her island that there were mermaids here. For whatever reason, she wanted to leave her home, but I supposed she still wanted to be around family. She went to the Outer Banks first and then landed here, where she met your ancestor Zofia. They talked, shared histories and realized they were distantly related. Third or fourth cousins.” She looked at Alex. “We’re almost kin.”
“Not ‘almost,’” Lidia said in firm tone. “We are. Your ancestor’s name is listed in our written history. Josephine and I are second cousins five times removed, which makes you—”
“Family,” Alex finished for her. She reached out and squeezed Celeste’s hand. “No wonder I liked you the first time we met.” Alex looked at Celeste with new eyes.
* * *
After dinner, Josephine and Lidia were in the craft room, and Celeste and Alex sat on the large deck in cushioned patio chairs, taking in the view, glasses of lemonade in hand. A large umbrella provided shade for them and the leaves of the numerous plants that decorated the area rustled in the slight breeze.
“I think I can hear the crash of the waves from here,” Alex commented.
Smiling, Celeste nodded. “And when the sky is clear, you can see the ocean between those houses.” She pointed to the two rows of homes directly across the street from them.
Alex squinted her eyes, then laughed. “Yes, I see the water.” She sipped her beverage. Then took another sip. “What is this? I thought it was just lemonade with mint leaves.”
“Refreshing, right?” Celeste took a big swallow before continuing. “It has the addition of fresh vanilla, sugar, and a little sea salt. My granmè Fleur used to make it for us. A little taste of home, she’d say.” She held the glass up to the sun and smiled as the sunlight sparkled behind the yellow liquid. “This is what summer tastes like to me.”
“Must’ve been nice growing up this close to the beach.”
“The best. I can’t imagine not living near the water. Especially for our kind, it’s so calming and energizing.” She glanced at Alex. “But you didn’t grow up near the water, right?”
Alex shook her head. “No. And now, I’m wondering if that’s why I felt so … I don’t know—unsure?—no, unstable most of my childhood. I’ve always had this feeling of anxiety that I’ve lived with, this feeling that something bad is just about to happen. I thought it was because my mother died and my father was always working, always in danger, you know?”
Celeste patted her arm. “I’m sorry. I must sound like a spoiled brat.”
“Not at all. You have family, friends … My life started off great too, but, well, my father did the best he could. He was a wonderful father.” A sudden wave of sadness washed over her, a fresh feeling of grief for her late father and the mother she could barely remember brought tears to her eyes. “It would be nice to think that living by the beach would’ve made me feel better but I doubt it.”
Celeste leaned forward. “Well, you’ve got your Aunt Lidia and Minka and Kamila. And you’ve got me.” She laughed self-consciously. “I’ve always wanted a big sister. Someone that could look out for me, and we could talk about boys.” She stopped and rolled her eyes. “Sorry, that’s silly. I’m an adult and—”
“No, it’s not stupid. I’ve always wanted more family. I used to watch TV shows where there were tons of siblings, and I’d imagine being the middle kid.” She laughed. “Now, I’m feeling silly, but I would’ve loved to have had a little sister.”
They grinned at each other.
Celeste finished her drink and settled into her chair sighing contently. “I’ve got a great boyfriend and an amazing job and now the big sister I’ve always wanted. This is turning out to be the best summer ever.”
“I agree.” Alex said, thinking of the family she was fortunate to have reconnected with, her newfound passion for herbal remedies … and Jack. This year was turning out pretty well for her too.
* * *
Aunt Lidia came into the shop at noon. It was her day to sleep in if she desired. In reality, she used the time to get up as normal, clean the house, and cook dinner for the coming evening. “I’ve made and frozen enough pierogi to get us through the summer,” she declared when she entered the shop. Her hair was pulled back into a loose French braid, and she wore sandals, light blue capris, and a white blouse. She looked refreshed and ready for a day of work.
Alex laughed. “Oh good. I was worried there wouldn’t be enough. What kinds did you make?”
“All of your favorites, kwiatuszki,” her aunt said, using the Polish word for “flower.”
The Sobieski family had been in America for generations, but Aunt Lidia still liked to use a few Polish words here and there. And because her mother had done the same thing, Alex knew what most of them meant.
“Potato, cheese, and onion, and wild mushroom with caramelized onion.”
“Yum.” Alex licked her lips, already tasting the flaky crust. “I’ll definitely be home in time for dinner tonight.”
Lidia went into the back room, set down her purse, and came out with a big smile. “Your festival candles look and smell wonderful, Aleksandra. I’m very proud of you.” She went behind the counter and sat on a stool there. Lidia’s gaze swept the area, landing on a piece of paper. She picked it up. “What’s this?”
Alex glanced at the list. “Celeste was in here earlier. That was her shopping list. I guess I forgot to toss it in the trash can.”
“That’s strange.” Lidia frowned as she read the list. “Did she say what she was using the ingredients for?”
“No. Why? Is something wrong?”
“Maybe not.” Lidia was still scowling at the paper. “I just hope she’s not up to no good.”
Alex laughed. “Celeste?”
Lidia arched an eyebrow. “Her mother’s a little worried about her and that man she’s seeing.”
“I’ll see her later today at the festival planning meeting. Should I ask her anything?”
Lidia folded up the paper and slid it into her pocket. “No, it’s fine. I’ll see Josephine this week, and I’ll mention it. She will know if it’s anything important.”
* * *
It’s another glorious day in Bellamy Bay, Alex thought as she walked the few blocks from Botanika to the town hall. The sun shone bright, the air smelled of sea salt, and everyone she came into contact with was happy. And why not? They were at the beach. And it was summer.
Smiling, she turned the corner and faced the town hall building, a large imposing brick structure with Roman-style columns, surrounded by a large green space. Locals commonly used it to play Frisbee, soak up the sun, or have picnics. She’d been there before a few times for various reasons, so she knew the conference room was on the second floor. She waved at the receptionist before bounding up the stairs. She was excited to be on the mermaid festival planning committee and happy to truly be a part of the Bellamy Bay community.
When she opened the door, she was greeted by Minka and Celeste, who stood in the back of the room, chatting beside a table of refreshments. She looked around the room and found a case of her candles in small, clear glass jars had already been delivered. Smiling, she set one out at each chair and lit it. The room quickly bloomed with a fresh, sweet scent.
Pepper held a stack of papers and was placing one at each chair, making sure to avoid the flame of the candles. Three o
ther women made up the planning committee.
Pepper hurried to finish and sat down beside Alex just as the woman banged a gavel on the podium. Alex smiled at her. “How are you?”
With a sigh, she sank into her leather chair. “My mother is running this—what do you think?”
Alex gave the woman named Cressida, all chignon and prim, starched dress, a second glance.
She raised a thin eyebrow at Pepper, who obediently stopped talking. “I am bringing the first meeting of the Bellamy Bay Mermaid Festival planning committee to order,” Cressida called out, all smiles now. “As you know, this will be my tenth year heading up the committee, and I’m looking for another successful event that will bring plenty of tourism dollars to our beloved town. Every year our committee includes members of the founding families and local business owners. This year I’m happy to welcome two new members to the group, Alex Daniels and Yuko Pemberton. Yuko is a co-owner, along with her husband, of Sushi Y’all.”
There was a light smattering of applause, and Yuko inclined her head toward Alex with a smile. “Nice to meet you.” Yuko was a petite woman, probably in her sixties but with a round youthful face, milky complexion, dark brown eyes, and shoulder-length black hair that was parted in the middle.
Ah, Alex thought. The Southern-Japanese fusion restaurant she and Jack had been meaning to attend but had never quite made it to yet. “I can’t wait to visit your restaurant. I’ve heard great things about the food.”
“Yuko will be heading up the teams of volunteers. This year we have twenty-five. I’d like fifty in total.” Cressida glanced at Yuko. “It’s summer and people want to play. Not volunteer. You have your work cut out for you.”
Cressida looked at Alex and her candles. “Very pretty,” she commented. “You’ll all note the candles before you. These are to be the official candle of the festival. We’ll be placing the festival logo on the candle and selling them at the festival market and the gift center.” She took a moment to sniff. “I don’t know what mermaids are supposed to smell like—fish and seaweed maybe?” She wrinkled her nose. “But they should sell very well and make a nice festival souvenir.”
Are they enchanted? Celeste telepathed to Alex.
No, Alex responded. I still haven’t quite learned that technique.
Cressida invited Minka to the podium, and Minka jumped up, bubbling with energy. “Hey guys,” she began. “As you may know, I’m heading up the arts and crafts for the festival this year. And I’ve come up with an amazing list of activities for the kids.” She referred to a printout she had with her. “They’ll be a mermaid-themed face-painting booth in the park on Friday and Saturday, a mermaid-themed slime craft, and a do-it-yourself mermaid-themed jewelry craft with seashells. Tiaras anyone?” She grinned around the room. “Also, a puppet show at the library, recreating the founding of the town, and an event where the kids can make papier-mâché swords and shields, just like the Mermaid of Warsaw had.”
She clapped her hands together. “Does that sound amazing or what?”
“Swords and shields,” Cressida began thoughtfully. “Doesn’t that sound a little violent? Children today are already exposed to too much violence.”
“What do you mean?” Minka stood up straighter. “Those were the Mermaid of Warsaw’s tools. What she’s known for. How can we have a festival celebrating her life if we don’t have her sword or shield? Have you been to Poland, seen the statues? There is no mermaid without her weapons.”
“We’re not precisely celebrating only her—it’s all mermaids. It’s the idea of—the tradition of—mermaids. Most of them didn’t have weapons.”
Minka scrunched up her face. “No, this is about the Mermaid of Warsaw specifically and her descendants. At least that’s the founding story we’re celebrating. And the one Captain Bellamy wrote about in his journal.”
There was a slow clap in the doorway, and all eyes turned toward the sound. Alex saw the beautiful woman who’d shared dinner with Dylan, standing there in a flowing white dress that both hid and accentuated her curvaceous figure. Her expressive brown eyes gleamed.
“I love the passion you have for the Mermaid of Warsaw. Brava.” She moved into the room and gave a hug to Minka, who looked both surprised and happy by the support. A fragrant cloud of sweet orange, bright cherry, and spicy clove filled the room. Even though Alex didn’t want to like her, the woman had a vibrant energy that was infectious. She was the artist. Alex wondered how she’d connected with Dylan and if they were an item.
When she moved away from the doorway, Alex saw Dylan was standing there, dressed in a gray summer suit and crisp white shirt opened at the collar. He stepped in and greeted everyone in his elegant Southern drawl. Her heart began to pound. Something about him always made her catch her breath. She looked away quickly and saw Minka giving her a knowing grin.
“I see you all have met our muralist?” Dylan grinned, giving Cressida a one-armed hug. “This is Neve Ryland. She’s been in town for a few weeks, working on the painting that no one has been able to see.” He chuckled. “Not even me.”
Alex knew that a large tent had been erected around the mural so that the artist could paint undisturbed, rain or shine. It had been the talk of the town. What was she doing under there? What would the mural look like? Alex was also eager to see the final product.
Everyone, including Alex, clapped while Cressida shooed Minka back to her seat. She pretended to pout, saying, “You’ve ruined my surprise, Dylan. But yes, everyone, this is Neve Ryland, the celebrated artist of mythological subjects.”
“And also a writer and researcher,” Neve chirped with an infectious grin. “And I think not including the Mermaid of Warsaw’s shield and sword in the festival—even as a papier-mâché craft—is a mistake.”
“My goodness,” Cressida said, looking a little flustered. “It’s not like that sword and shield really existed. We are all talking about a myth.”
Neve laughed. “Are we?” Her grin widened. “I wrote my dissertation on the possibility of mythological weapons.”
Frowning, Cressida sniffed. “We all know the stories this town were founded on are made up, which means the Mermaid of Warsaw didn’t really exist, nor did her shield or sword.” She laughed. “I mean, really.”
The glint in Neve’s eyes was unmistakably challenging. “I happen to believe that the Mermaid of Warsaw was real, and so was her—”
“And that’s why we selected Neve,” Dylan rushed to interrupt her. “For her passion and knowledge and grand imagination. She’s perfect for painting our mural, is she not Cressida?”
Cressida pursed her lips but didn’t respond.
Dylan moved beside the artist, placing his arm around her. “Wesley Inc. is cosponsoring her participation in the festival.”
So, Alex thought, it’s business then? They certainly seemed chummy for professional reasons. She was beautiful, he was handsome. Alex wondered if it would stay platonic—not that it was any of her concern.
“I am an expert on mythology, with a special interest in female iconography in world myth. My dissertation included research on the Mermaid of Warsaw. I’ve read everything published about her.” Neve stepped to the podium, forcing Cressida to move to the side, an exasperated expression on her face. Neve looked at Minka as she spoke. “And we absolutely have to have swords and shields at the festivals. We want little girls to feel the empowerment that the Mermaid of Warsaw must’ve felt when she protected her town.” She shot Cressida a look of admonishment. “They weren’t weapons of war; they were tools of peace.” She held up her hand like she was giving praise in church. “The Mermaid of Warsaw was a powerful agent of change, of good, and we’re going to honor her.”
Minka rose from her seat, clapping loudly. “And I am here for it!” she said.
Alex took a breath. This woman was certainly a force, and Alex wanted to speak to her and find out all Neve knew about Alex’s ancestor.
Neve’s eyes fell on the candles. “From Botanika?” She f
ound Alex and smiled.
Alex nodded. “Yes, I made them in honor of the Mermaid of Warsaw. I’d be happy to give you one.”
Eyes bright with enchantment, she moved toward the closest one. “May I smell one? I’ve heard your candles have the ability to practically transport you by scent alone.” Neve set her folder down before her, and leaned over the candle, breathing deeply of the fragrance. “Makes me think of the sea and the wind and—” Suddenly, the flame of the candle seemed to spark and leap into the air and toward Neve. She jumped back in surprise, her cry of astonishment filling the room.
Alex watched in horror, as the spark fell on a folder in front of her, erupting into a small fire.
Chapter Four
Alex jumped up and ran to the fire extinguisher mounted on the wall beside the door.
Her father had taught her as a teenage how to use one. PASS, he’d told her. Pull the pin. Aim at the fire. Squeeze the lever. Sweep the lever from side to side. She did it all now, a blur of action. The fire was out within moments, even before a fire alarm could sound.
The room was stunned into silence, and then Cressida began bustling about giving orders: Pepper, to clear out the burned paper and charred candle; Minka, to wipe down the tables; Celeste, to open the windows. Josephine had gone to find the custodian, and Yuko had extinguished the flames on the remaining candles—just in case.
Alex went to Neve, her eyes filled with remorse. “I am so sorry. Are you okay?”
“Yes, of course.” She said, her smile shaky but present. “But if I hadn’t jumped out of the way …”
Dylan was at her side, a steady arm around her shoulders. “You were never in any harm. I assure you. If Alex hadn’t put the fire out, I would’ve.”
Cressida clapped her hands, glancing at the white foam covering the table. “Let’s take a thirty-minute break to finish cleanup and then we’ll wrap things up.” She went to Alex, her face grim. “I appreciate your quick work just now. But if you hadn’t made faulty candles, none of this would’ve happened. Perhaps it’s back to the drawing board for you?”
