Chapter Five
Lena
There are three kinds of people who come to Mermaid Bay—those seeking its kitschy myths and legends, those looking to fuel up with coffee or a burger before resuming their journey, and those interested in changing my beloved small town into their version of “better.”
I’m convinced good-looking Cade is in the latter category.
Folks in Mermaid Bay have a way of dealing with so-called harbingers of change—by immersing them in our culture and traditions. We call it the Mermaid Bay Legacy Tour, which is code for Scare the Meddlers Away.
Poor Cade didn’t know what he was in for.
Yesterday, I’d tallied up his attributes—the good and the bad—and come up with a measly score of two. Two wasn’t troublesome. But Cade is. I take in his measure once more.
Short brown hair sprinkled with gray. It ruffles in the wind. A black polo beneath a black jacket. Both cover his broad, square shoulders. This man doesn’t slouch. His khakis are unwrinkled. His aviator sunglasses hide those expressive eyes.
Impulsively, I reach out and slide those mirrored sunglasses down his nose.
Cade’s brown eyes warm and he smiles at me. “Trouble, reporting for duty, ma’am.”
I smile back, adding five points to Cade’s tally for charm in the face of adversity. He must know we’re at odds. And yet, here he is this morning, ready to face his opposition.
Cade returns his sunglasses to their usual resting place. “Where are we going first?”
“We’re starting at Merry’s Christmas Cheer,” I say. It’s the first business on this end of the boardwalk.
I lead him through the door, setting off a collection of jingle bells on the interior door handle that announce our arrival.
The shop is an explosion of Christmas, today and all year long.
There are several Christmas trees positioned on the floor, each decorated with a different theme—mermaids, beach, gnomes, Santa, and more traditional baubles.
One wall has a mantle that spans the length of the store.
Stocking hangers and more permanent hooks display all styles, sizes, and colors of Christmas stockings.
It's hard to enter Merry’s Christmas Cheer and not feel nostalgic. Not to be brought back to the magic of Christmas morning that was created by my parents.
“Merry Christmas!” Merry calls from the back of the small shop.
Even though it’s February, Merry is unboxing a delivery of Christmas angels, setting the white porcelain on the sales counter.
“I’ve got a special on sea shell ornaments to the right and a clearance sale of Christmas stockings on the left.
Plus shelves full of regularly priced, holiday merchandise, including souvenirs of Mermaid Bay. ”
Pushing his sunglasses up into his brown hair, Cade walks back to where Merry is working. “I’m Cade Delaney. Aren’t you Merry Winslow?”
“Do you hear that, Lena? I’m famous.” Merry’s blush spreads much needed color across the cheeks of her pale, wrinkled skin. “A stranger knows my name.”
“I’m taking Cade on the Mermaid Bay Legacy Tour,” I say as a reminder. Merry is a dear but isn’t always on top of her mental game. “He wants to buy property here.”
“Oh?” Merry gives Cade a much cooler once-over. And then she reaches beneath the counter. She hands a brochure to him. “Here you go.”
Cade reads the front of the brochure aloud.
“Are you ready to experience the heart and soul of Mermaid Bay? This exclusive, guided tour takes visitors on an unforgettable journey through our historic boardwalk and pier businesses.” He opens the brochure, continuing to read, “Meet beloved local business owners and hear their incredible stories.” Cade gives Merry a measured look. “You have an incredible story?”
“I do.” Merry nods.
“I’d love to hear it.” Cade returns his gaze to the brochure. “Enjoy interactive tasks around local myths and maritime traditions.” He glances around the Christmas-themed store, carefully folds the brochure, and tucks it into his back pocket. “All right. Give me your spiel, Merry.”
“First, a riddle.” Merry smiles but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “What has a sharp eye for detail and works with grain?”
Cade turns toward me, a frown creasing his brow. “The Mermaid Bay Legacy Tour has stories and riddles?”
“Yes. It’s part of the town’s charm.” I smile. “Are you good at riddles?”
“I was when I was twelve,” Cade says with a heavy dose of sarcasm.
I subtract two points from his tally.
“Oh.” Merry titters. “I always give children and adults who are bad at riddles another clue.” She leans her torso over the porcelain angels on her sales counter. “What has a sharp eye for detail, works with grain, and is always chipping away?”
Cade’s frown deepens.
“Since this is your first stop, I’ll tell you.
The answer is a woodworker.” Merry draws a small wooden heart from behind the sales counter, dangling it from a bit of looped twine.
She presents it to Cade as if it’s a diamond-studded pendant.
“My great-great grandfather was a woodworker. He started this shop.” Merry smiles, a faraway look clouding her eyes.
She often gets lost in her family history.
“He made ship wheels. Banisters. Fine wooden furniture. I can tell by your fancy shoes that you aren’t from around here.
Oregon is known for its lumber, you know. ”
“I know.” Cade isn’t enamored with her history.
He hasn’t even taken the heart from Merry.
He looks the way a tourist does the first time they visit Times Square in New York City and are confronted by Iron Man, the red Power Ranger, and Elphaba from Wicked, as if he’s been unexpectedly dropped into the Twilight Zone.
I take the small wooden heart from Merry by the looped twine and swing it in front of Cade as if trying to put him in a trance.
“Merry carves these hearts herself, carrying on a tradition passed down from one family member to another. This one is yours. You might add it to something you’ll be given later. ”
If you get that far.
“Or you can hang it from a tree branch by the lighthouse.” Merry gives us both a smile. “In the hopes that your love will return.”
“Are you going somewhere?” Cade asks me, a bit of that playfulness returning to his brown eyes.
My pulse races like I’m eighteen again.
“I’m staying right here, Trouble.” I take Cade’s hand and place the small wooden heart on his palm, curling his fingers around it.
Instead of giving me a renewed sense of control, the warmth of his hand lingers, even after I cross my arms over my chest.
“I see it now,” Merry says, grinning. “Marina told me there was something between you two.”
“There is nothing between us.” I take Cade’s arm, annoyed—and thrilled?—that he’s chuckling.
I revise my tally downward.
Cade now sits at minus two.