“It’s nice to see you again, but I was just leaving,” I said, scurrying out the door with my dress and shoes. Paul was waiting in the hall, and he walked me to my door.
“You didn’t tell her… did you?” he asked, tension tightening his voice.
“Of course not!” I snapped. “I said I wouldn’t, didn’t I?” I was offended that he would question my word– I’d been getting a lot of that lately.
“I’ll go do it right now,” he said earnestly.
I shook my head no, “She’s busy tonight… Maybe you should talk to Boris first.”
I let myself in to find the darkening house empty. I brought the dress to my room and laid it out on the bed. Stumpy’s litter box was cleaned, his food and water filled, but he was missing. I went looking for him, led down the hall by the sound of my father’s lighthearted laughter.
I found Dad and Amrita in the therapy room, sitting side by side on the edge of the Jacuzzi tub. They faced out towards the twilight bridge with their heads together, talking to each other in low voices. Amrita giggled, and I could see Stumpy squirming on her lap. He jumped away, and my father lunged for him, wincing when he bumped his wounded arm in the process.
“Martin!” Amrita gasped, the escaped kitten momentarily forgotten. She reached out to reposition his arm, scolding him for his carelessness. He watched her fussing over him as she gently massaged each of his exposed fingers, and I could see his shoulders relax. The expression on his face was obvious, even from the doorway.
Evie had done it again, using her formidable muse powers to bring my father good fortune and happiness– even on the heels of a terrible tragedy. She was right about good things coming out of bad. I reeled back in my shoes, surprised that I was even surprised.
It was true. He was in love.
~
Chapter Eighteen
BACKSTAGE
~
“This is the life,” Cruz patted the plush cushions with a broad smile.
Evie made up for missing the concert by hiring a car and driver for the night, and we swanned our way through the crowded city traffic lounging in an enormous limousine. We pulled up at Megan’s hotel, waiting at the entrance for a few minutes while a crowd gathered around the car, peering into the tinted windows expectantly. Megan swept out of the lobby and climbed in with an excited squeal, embracing me and blowing air kisses to Cruz and Brad.
“I’m so glad you guys are here!”
We drove through the city, anticipatory excitement crackling in the air. The car pulled up behind an old building with an ornate facade, a former movie palace that had been refurbished into a glamorous concert venue. Megan took us into the backstage entrance, introducing us to her back-up band and leading us into her dressing room. Cruz busied himself hanging up the garment bag and straightening out the clothes.
I sat down with Megan at the makeup table, looking up to see Brad standing awkwardly by the door. “Come sit,” I told him, patting the chair next to mine. Cruz flashed me a grateful look.
“Will you do my makeup?” Megan asked. “It’ll be just like old times!”
“Sure thing,” I smiled.
Cruz snooped around the dressing room, looking into the mini-bar and inspecting the fruit basket that sat on the tabletop. He looked disappointed.
“You really need to start making some better backstage demands,” he groused, gesturing all around like an orchestra conductor. “I mean, come on! Where are the green M & M’s? You should request a hunky masseuse or a completely white dressing room… Or, or, like, a case of Cristal Champagne with bendy straws!”
Megan and I exchanged a look and started snickering.
“Mock me all you want, but I happen to know for a fact that Streisand gets rose petals strewn in her toilet.”
Now we were really laughing, and even Brad joined in.
Megan feigned horror, “What? Did you check the bathroom? They forgot my flowers?” She put her wrist to her forehead dramatically, “How can I live without peeing on petals?”
“Very funny,” Cruz said dryly, “But I’ve heard that’s how power is measured in this industry.”
“I think power is probably measured in downloads,” Brad said quietly.
I started digging through Megan’s makeup kit, “So true, Evie always says that money talks.”
“My mother says that it screams,” Brad added.
We all laughed at his joke, and he smiled, loosening up a little.
Cruz pulled three lovely dresses out of his garment bag, getting our undivided attention. Megan oohed and aahed over them, and Cruz’s blossoming talent was evident once again. He described how he envisioned each look, and we all agreed that Megan should wear the white dress first, followed by the red, topping it all off with the grand finale long sequined gown.
“The black is the real showstopper,” Cruz announced, and we all agreed. “And,” he added as he flourished a tortuous looking boned corset with aplomb, “I even brought a foundation garment.”
“Looks painful,” Megan grimaced.
“Sweetheart,” Cruz said knowingly, “We must suffer for fashion.”
Megan rolled her eyes at me, but I just shrugged with resignation, “He sounds more and more like Evie every day.”
I mixed some makeup on the back of my hand and brushed a stray curl from Megan’s face. “Look up,” I told her, starting my application. Soon her pretty face was transformed into a sultry one, and I’d made Megan look like the diva she had truly become. Cruz got to work steaming the wrinkles out of the white dress, while I tried to tame Megan’s extravagant curls.
A half an hour later Cruz went to show Brad to our box seats while I laced Megan in tightly, “Tell me if you can’t breathe!”
“So where’s Ethan?” she asked me. “How are things going with the mom?”
“Would you believe me if I told you they’d taken a turn for the worse?” I tried to sound flippant, but my voice betrayed me. She turned to look me in the eye.
“Are you okay?”
“Not really,” I said quietly, confessing, “Not at all.”
Megan took my hands, and sat down facing me, “Tell me.”
Struggling not to go into too much detail, I told her that Ethan thought there was something going on between me and Evie’s new bodyguard. I told her how his mother was making him crazy, filling his head full of suspicion. I poured out all my anger and frustration, still holding back the entire truth.
Secret after festering secret stopped me from telling her everything.
Megan studied me frankly, “Do you love him?”
I caught my breath, because as usual, her candor had cut through all of the superfluous details.
“Yes.”
“So get over it.”
“But he doesn’t trust me! He’s so overprotective–”
She looked at me like I was horribly naive, “Marina, none of us is perfect. You knew he had problems with trust when you first got together.”
“Yeah, but I didn’t bank on them getting worse.” I tried to sound sarcastic, masking all my hurt and confusion, “Maybe I’d be better off dating lots of people like you do.”
Megan didn’t smile, “Don’t you think I’d settle down if I found the right one?”
I shrugged, “You don’t seem to be in any hurry.”
She looked exasperated, “Marina, some of us have to kiss a lot of frogs before we find our prince… You should think twice before you throw the baby out with the bathwater.”
I frowned, “I thought that once we were married it would get better.”
She scoffed, “What’s that supposed to change?”
“Maybe he’ll feel more, I don’t know… secure.”
“Secure?! All you do is hold stuff back and keep secrets! No wonder he’s paranoid!”
I knew she was right, but hearing it put so bluntly was a shock. My face must have fallen because her voice softened.
“Don’t get upset… It’s only that you’re kind of a self-
contained unit, if you know what I mean. Getting information out of you can be like pulling teeth– I’m sure that someone with Ethan’s issues might find it a little bit aggravating.”
“I suppose.”
She patted my knee, sitting back in her chair, “You can’t fix him. You can only change yourself– And the way you deal with him.”
I nodded numbly, not surprised that she was right as usual.
“Marina… It all boils down to, are you better off with him, or without him?”
I looked down. The answer to that was pretty clear.
She continued, “What do you want from life? Is he holding you back from doing anything you want to do?”
I shook my head, “No, he just worries too much.”
“Why… That bastard!”
Her mocking forced me to crack a smile. I looked up, “You’re right.”
She looked skyward with mock humility, “That’s why they pay me the big bucks.”
“Alright Sigmund. Let’s finish getting you dressed.”
As soon as I got her zipped into her first dress, Cruz came back in and started fussing with the hem, seeing flaws that no one else did. Megan’s manager popped his head in the door and announced that she was needed on stage for a lighting check, so I excused myself to go and take my seat.
Brad and I waited alone in a balcony box, looking down at the empty theater and watching the stagehands scurrying around and making last minute adjustments to the sound system. I wished I was sitting with Ethan, holding his hand and feeling his strong arm around me. I sighed.
“You look sad,” Brad observed.
I forced a smile, “I’m fine.”
We watched the crowd file in and take their seats. I could sense that Brad was tense, and he kept looking over at me like he wanted to say something. I turned to look him in the eye.
He studied my face, “Something’s been driving me crazy… And I have to ask. I can’t understand– I don’t get– Why my father did what he did. It doesn’t make sense. He could always buy anything he wanted.”
I looked over at him, and bit my lip. I had kept the whole quest for immortality business to myself, not wanting anyone to know the truth about me and my sisters. As far as Cruz and Megan knew, Edwards kidnapped me because I was a half mermaid hybrid. They trusted my story and never questioned it, but Brad knew his father, and realized it didn’t make a whole lot of sense. I tried to think of a plausible explanation, but I had told so many tall tales and half-truths I could barely keep the story straight myself.
“He couldn’t buy me,” I improvised, “And he is a collector. Maybe he was planning to start some kind of– I don’t know… zoo, or something.”
Brad looked down, shaking his head. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered.
I put my hand on his, “It’s not your fault,” I told him, finally believing in his innocence.
I wondered what Brad would think if he knew he had a baby sister who was a mermaid. I’d decided against telling him about her, and it felt a little like I was playing God. There was no possible way for them to have any kind of relationship, so I figured that was one more thing about his father that he really didn’t need to know.
I hated doing it, but I had to lie to everyone; there was simply no other way. I couldn’t bear the thought of Cruz and Megan knowing about my muse powers, and then doubting in their own talents. Besides, I told myself, the less they knew, the safer it would be for everybody.
I thought about all the lies I’d told, and the secrets I’d kept. Abby and Dutch thought that Edwards was only after me because of my mother. My father didn’t even know about the kidnappings, believing that all the drama had ended when I was taken out of Greece. Evie knew the most, save for the fact that I was now sworn to protect my mermaid sisters at any cost. Nobody but Paul knew that someone was watching me again.
The only soul on earth that truly knew the real me– that is, everything important there was to know about me– was Ethan. How ironic that we were being torn apart by our very natures. I thought of his clear blue eyes, and the look on his face when he kissed me. My stomach lurched with longing; I was so lonely for him that my heart literally ached in my chest.
The lights in the hall dimmed, and Megan took the stage and began to sing. Her beautiful red hair was backlit, and glowed like a fiery halo. She grasped the mike with authority and sang her heart out, her voice rising through the hall like a siren’s song, almost unbearably sweet. I gripped the rail of the balcony, closed my eyes, and let the soothing sound flow through me.
The crowd went wild, filling the house with thunderous applause between every number. People sang along with her popular songs, a low rumble that resonated through the hall. I watched through tears as Megan delivered a mesmerizing performance of great beauty. The ethereal voice pouring out of her voluptuous body made for an incongruous sight; it was impossible to look away.
She finished her second encore, dedicating songs to both me and Cruz. She thanked him for designing her gowns, and I could see his shaggy head peeking around the corner as he waited in the wings. Seeing their success made me feel better, but it also made me ponder what part I’d played in all of this. I looked down on my two friends from my perch above them, feeling proud and happy and guilty all at once.
Brad and I waited in the balcony for the crowd to file out, eventually picking our way down the stairs and making it backstage.
“Marina!” A big blonde blur came flying at me, and I was nearly tackled by an enthusiastic embrace.
“Shayla?” I laughed, “What are you doing here?”
“I’m on my way to Hawaii,” she grinned, “And I had a three hour layover so I thought I’d try to catch Megan’s show. I got here just in time for the encores!”
The last time I saw Shayla we had parted company after our fateful big wave surfing session, and just hearing the word Hawaii brought back an old familiar sensation. Visions of turquoise waves started dancing through my mind.
“Are you going there to surf?” I asked, licking my lips involuntarily.
She grinned at me, “Maybe.”
“Do you have a job there?”
She smiled coyly, “No.”
She looked past me to Megan, who was flirting with yet another tall, dark, and handsome stranger, “Hey dude! Wicked awesome show!”
Megan raced over, beaming, “Shayla!” They embraced and Shayla started in on teasing Megan about her reputation as a man-eater.
“You hussy, you!” she laughed, and they dissolved into giggles, giddy with the realization that this conversation would have been unthinkable just a few short months ago.
Cruz burst out of Megan’s dressing room, eyes locking on mine, “Did you see how amazing the red was with her hair?”
He saw Shayla and shrieked, “Oh my God! The gang’s all here!”
He threw his arms open, rushing over to sweep us all into an embrace, prompting Megan to observe, “Marina always brings out the group hugs in us.”
We went to a backstage lounge, where food and drink had been spread out in an appetizing looking display. Band members, roadies and groupies were all talking and laughing, basking in the rarefied atmosphere of exclusivity. Some of the men eyed me and Shayla like we were items on the buffet; she ignored them, rolling her eyes at me with amused contempt.
Brad and Cruz went to get something to eat, and Megan’s manager kept taking her away to introduce her to various industry people until she finally pulled us aside to a quiet corner.
“Guess what you guys–” her eyes were alive. “I’ve been nominated for a GRAMMY for best new artist!”
Shayla squealed and we all hugged again. I felt a surge of satisfaction like I’d just taken a massive wave. Megan deserved all the success in the world, I thought, and if I helped it happen, so be it.
“Cruz is gonna go nuts,” I said, looking around for him.
“He’s also gonna make you something awesome to wear!” Shayla gushed.
We sat down and specu
lated on Megan’s chances, agreeing to get together after the awards ceremony to celebrate. I thought about Ethan, wondering if he’d be there with us.
Megan turned to Shayla, “Let’s talk about something else! I don’t wanna jinx it … Tell me all about your jet-set life.”
Shayla checked the time nervously, “Speaking of jets, I do have to be back to the airport soon.”
“Exactly what are you going to Hawaii for?” I asked her.
She smiled coyly, “To meet Gabe.”
“Gabe?” I smiled, remembering the cute pro-surfer, “How did that happen?”
“I’ve been doing a lot of swimsuit stuff lately, and Matt and I were in Australia last week for an appearance. We went to check out a local tournament, and we ran into him. Matt took off to go surfing with his posse… and me and Gabe ended up spending the day together. We just sorta hit it off,” she cringed a little, “I feel kinda bad though… Matt took it pretty hard.”
Megan gasped, “You dumped Matt Stone? The world’s most eligible bachelor? Whoa.”
Shayla shrugged, explaining, “Matt turned out to be a massive tool. All he ever cared about was getting his face in another tabloid– I found out that he was actually tipping them off to where we were going to be! What a total jackass!” She was indignant.
“I guess some people can never get enough attention,” I observed.
“Fame,” mused Megan, “It’s addictive.”
“Yeah well, I need it like Cruz needs another hole in his head,” Shayla grouched, making me laugh. “Marina was right. It’s overrated.”
“Speak for yourself!” Megan exclaimed, “Bring it on!”
We laughed, caught our breath, and then laughed some more in disbelief about how much had happened in the past year. They were both amazed at how two girls from small town Aptos had come so far, so fast.
“It’s all thanks to you,” Shayla said, making me cringe.
I looked up into Megan’s speculating eyes. “Let’s go find the boys,” I said, leaping up from the couch.
Cruz was standing at the buffet table, scarfing down toast points with caviar. He waved us over, pointing, “Try the truffled tarts– They’re to die for.”
The Turning Tides (Marina's Tales) Page 18
