Chapter 38 Wren
Thirty-Eight
Wren
Dad had insisted we both dress for the occasion, and I’d agreed. The difference being my suit didn’t come with a fake chest
plate and crown like his did.
I didn’t comment on his choice of clothing tonight though, and he didn’t once suggest I wear so much as a single seashell-encrusted
accessory. Not that Tate had left me any. He’s playing the part of the real-life Nereus for the evening, and so far, he doesn’t
seem to mind the extra attention. If he isn’t careful, my dad will have him in a tail before long.
“Hey, Nereus?”
Tate looks up from the group of kids he’s regaling with stories of wrestling sharks, then wraps up his story before making
his way over to me.
“So, what do you think?” He gestures at his chest plate and stretches out his harpoon that was made to look like whale bone
with intricate scrimshaw designs carved into it. “Do I look like a prince of the sea or what?”
“You look like something,” I agree, muffling a laugh.
Tate ignores my sarcasm. “Do you think your dad will let me have a say in who he hires to play the new Nerissa now that Eryn’s officially hanging up her fins?”
“I don’t know, maybe.” I still feel hollow remembering that Eryn isn’t going to be a part of things around here anymore.
I’ve seen her outside the café a couple of times since that last night by the lighthouse, and while she’d given me a tight-lipped
smile and even returned the somewhat awkward hand I’d raised in greeting, we hadn’t said anything to each other. I hope it
won’t always be that way between us, but I understand why it needs to be for now.
After a moment I ask, “Did Eryn say if she’s going to come tonight?”
Tate stops admiring his weapon and slowly shakes his head. “She’s hanging out with some of her coworkers from the café.” He
hesitates then adds, “Including that Elliot guy.”
I won’t lie and say I don’t feel anything hearing that, but it’s more like expecting pain rather than actually being hurt,
like tensing for a shot before realizing the nurse already gave it to you. “She’s doing okay then?”
He nods. “She is.”
And hearing that doesn’t hurt at all.
Tate shifts his weight, clearly sensing a change in my mood. “What about your special guest, she here yet?”
That question does cause a reaction in me, not pain, but something close to it. I haven’t seen Lili yet and I don’t want to
even think about her not showing up.
Tate doesn’t need me to say anything. My gaze boring a hole through the front doors is answer enough. “She’ll be here. Trust,
my friend.”
Every time I hear the door open, I try to convince myself that she’ll be standing there, smiling at the sight of me, but she’s not.
Other people arrive, and I know I should be glad that I recognize so many of our neighbors who showed up to support us, but there’s only one face I need to see tonight.
And then, suddenly, I do.
I make my way toward Lili, stopping only to say a quick hello to Mrs. Mayhew and Goldie, who’s all but yanking the older woman
forward to see the mermaid skeleton couple in the center of the museum.
“What a fine job you’ve done here tonight,” Mrs. Mayhew says, leaning in to press her cheek to mine. “Thank you for inviting
me.”
“Thank you for coming,” I reply, unable to keep my gaze from drifting past her shoulder to see Lili. “I’m working on another
exhibit that includes some of your late husband’s collection. If you want to come by sometime this week, I can give you more
details on the progress.”
Mrs. Mayhew nods, her eyes following mine. “Oh, yes, I do want to hear all about your progress.” She squeezes my hand. “Go on now. It seems like you’ve been waiting long enough already.”
“We’re late because Lili changed four times,” Goldie says.
I glance back at Lili again, noting the way she’s gnawing her lip as she scans the room, her uncertainty evident even from
across the lobby. But there are too many people between us to see all of her.
“Don’t worry,” I tell Goldie. “You haven’t missed anything. Oh, and there’s a T-shirt behind the desk in the gift shop with
your name on it. It’s the new design with Nereus and Nerissa.”
She grins. “Cool. Thanks, Wren.” Then she’s off, dragging a surprised but smiling Mrs. Mayhew with her.
I catch sight of Lili peering down the Siren’s Hall, but before I can follow, her mom and a man I recognize but can’t quite place step in front of me.
“Graham Callaway,” he says, after I exchange greetings with her mom. “My youngest would have been a couple of years ahead
of you in school, Max Callaway?”
I nod, shaking his hand. That’s why he looked familiar: His son manages Steamboat Wharf Pizza. “Yeah, I know Max. Great pizza.”
“Decent pizza,” he corrects. “But you can’t beat the price.”
I laugh politely. It’s still an effort to concentrate on anything other than Lili.
Her mom takes pity on me, linking her arm through Mr. Callaway’s. “Let’s go get a closer look at those mermaids Goldie’s been
going on about.” She smiles, resting a hand on my shoulder as they pass. “Wren, everything looks incredible.”
I nod my thanks, but my eyes never leave Lili’s face.
I don’t stop for anyone else as I close the remaining distance between us. “Lili.”
She spins and my heart stops at my first full sight of her. She’s wearing the ocean in her dress and the summer in her smile.
“You look amazing,” I say, my voice coming out a little breathless.
Her eyes find mine, and for a heartbeat, everything about her stills—her breath, her expression, even the slight movement
of her shoulders. A rush of color rises in her cheeks, and I see her swallow, then almost sway, like the ground beneath her
isn’t quite as solid as it was a second ago. “Are you wearing a three-piece suit? With a pocket square?” She rests a hand
over her stomach like she’s trying to steady herself. “You look like Gregory Peck.”
I can barely find my words, caught up in the way she’s looking at me. “The guy from Roman Holiday. You said it was your favorite, so I took some inspiration.”
She keeps staring. “It’s good. Almost too good.”
“I was going for too good.” Tate and I hit up every vintage place on the island trying to find something for tonight, finally
striking gold at Seconds Shop. It’s a little warm with the jacket on, but so worth this reaction. “I guess I should have added
the pocket watch?”
“No,” she says too quickly. “That might have put me on the floor.”
I laugh.
“I love it,” she says, meeting my gaze. “Thank you.” Then she half turns, looking around. “And the museum looks great. You’ve
changed more than one exhibit.”
Two kids run past us wearing gift shop T-shirts that say I Met the Real Little Mermaid at McCleave’s on the front.
“Not everything is changing,” I tell her, “but a few things are. You told me I didn’t have anything to lose from really trying
to talk to my dad. Turns out you had a point. He’s only taken one out of every twenty things I’ve suggested so far, but that’s
already more than I would have thought possible a few months ago. And look.” I move to the side, giving her a view down the
corridor behind me.
Her eyes widen. “Is that your display? With all the people around it?”
I smile at her generous description of a decent handful of people as all, but after the crowd around Nerissa and Nereus’s exhibit, mine has more than almost any other.
“Can we go look at it?”
I hesitate. “Yeah, but can we talk first? I’m kind of dying here waiting to hear my fate.”
“Your fate, huh?” she says, her tone giving away nothing as she ducks her head. “I thought you were the one asking me to completely
change all my future plans.”
I do everything I can to hide the wave of panic threatening to crash over me. “Not change exactly, more like move them up.
And maybe consider how incredible a ramp would look by your front porch.”
She laughs, but the sound fades quickly, leaving a subtle tension behind. “Wren . . . I’m not turning eighteen for another
month. I couldn’t stay here alone on Nantucket even if I wanted to.”
The hurt hits, the real kind that doesn’t feel like a needle piercing my skin so much as Tate’s harpoon plunging straight
through my heart.
I nod, but it feels like the gesture’s hollow, like my body’s going through the motions without me. My brain scrambles to
catch up with what she just said. “Okay,” I manage, though it sounds more like a question than an answer. My words feel jagged,
off. I look at her again, hoping to read something that will make sense of this, but her expression is calm, too calm. “Will
you come back? I could wait, I would wait.”
She reaches for my hand. “I don’t want you to wait.”
I laugh, the sound dry, almost like a cough. “You honestly think I would want anyone else after you? That someone else could
even come close?” My dad barely looked at another woman after my mom, and I never understood that until right now. “Lili,
I—”
“No, Wren.” She lifts my hand to press it over her heart, where the beat is just as fast as mine.
“I don’t want to wait either. I talked to my mom and she’s agreed to stay till my birthday in a few weeks, maybe even after that if she takes Graham up on his offer to help her with another house she’s apparently been eyeing on the island. ”
My lungs don’t want to work. “Wait . . . so you’re not leaving?”
She bites her lip again, this time to hold in a smile as she leads me into the back room before answering. “Classes don’t
start until next month, but I already talked to my academic advisor about switching to online courses, so no, I’m not leaving.”
“Me or the island?”
Her smile is almost teasing as she moves to what she thinks is out of my reach. “Whoa, that’s not how this is going to work.
You’re convinced you want me, but you still need to convince me that—”
I move before I can think, pulling her toward me until she’s sitting across my lap. Her eyes widen in surprise, but I don’t
hesitate, lifting her face to kiss her.
The moment our lips meet, it’s like diving into the deepest part of the ocean, sudden and overwhelming. I can feel the pull
of her, like the tide’s drawing me in, and I don’t want to fight it. My arms wrap around her, and it feels like I’m holding
on to something that could slip away if I let go for even a second. Her lips move with mine, tentative at first, but then
she grabs at my lapels and the world outside disappears. There’s just the press of her against me, the rhythm of us, like
the ebb and flow of the waves, and I never want it to stop.
“I wasn’t going to wait a second longer to do that,” I whisper, pressing my lips to hers again and tightening my hands along
her ribs.
She’s still holding my lapels. “I might need a little more convincing.”
I know she can feel the rumble in my chest when I laugh, ready to do just that when she leans back and runs her fingers through my hair like it’s something she’s been dreaming of doing. “So if I’m staying, does that mean you’re only going to call me Lili from now on?”
“No, Tourist Girl.” I tighten my arms around her, bringing her close again. “But it does mean I’m going to call you mine.”