Chapter Seventeen
D ragging myself out of bed was hard this morning. Merrow’s soft scent had infiltrated my sheets, and I tossed and turned all night, wishing that she had stayed. My shift at Beans and Barley didn’t start for another three hours, and I was too restless to paint.
So I paced. I took a shower. I paced again before I took one of my kitchen chairs and moved it next to the painting of Her. Should I rename it Merrow now? That seemed like too much, but it was her. There was no explanation for it, but it was her.
When I closed my eyes, I heard the humming of the song from my dreams. It was the same tune that Merrow started to hum before she immediately stopped. I wanted her to keep singing. In the dreams, the song had words, but I couldn’t understand them. They sounded like another language, and I always imagined it was this secret, beautiful language of the mermaids.
But mermaids didn’t exist–only in my paintings and dreams.
The painting looked haunted now. The eyes of the mermaid were so very blue, just like Merrow’s eyes, but they didn’t capture her mischief, her fun. They looked so profoundly sad, just imagining Merrow looking like that broke my heart.
I had to get out of my apartment with the little ghosts of Merrow everywhere. Anne Marie would just have to deal with me for a while before I clocked in. She spent more and more time at the coffee shop now–I should ask her about that. That’s what friends would do.
I wandered through the boardwalk, down to the beach and sat there on the sand for a few minutes. Not even the water calmed me this morning, and that was a first. My head and my chest were so jumbled with emotions and thoughts that I felt like I didn’t know myself. My stomach growled, signaling my time to leave and head to see Anne Marie. The comfort of a friend would be nice. She was always asking me to open up–maybe just this one time, I should.
The shop was oddly empty for ten in the morning. Sean wasn’t there either, which was also strange. He was scheduled to work this morning.
“Hey, did you need more help?” I asked, startling Anne Marie from whatever she was looking at on her phone.
“Owen? You’re way early,” she said, tucking her phone into her apron.
“Yeah, I was tired of just laying around the apartment.”
“I kinda figured that Merrow might still be there,” she said, wriggling her eyebrows.
“Honestly, I thought she would have been too,” I replied, far quieter than I meant to be.
“Oh, babe, what’s going on? You look like you've been hit by a truck.”
“Thanks,” I huffed. She was already working on a drink and heating me up a ham and cheese croissant. Anne Marie was a good friend. She had her hair up in her signature bun, and it flopped around as she moved.
“So, spill. Let’s suss all this out. I don’t like long-face Owen. I liked it better when you were mooning over her,” she said, sliding me a plate with the sandwich on it .
So I did. I told her about the dates. I told her how I felt when I kissed her that first time on the beach. About the song. About my paintings. Ordering lunch and making cookies. I told her about how Merrow took a short nap and snored like crazy, and how she felt laying in my bed, asking me to hold her. I told her about how Merrow was leaving, and that felt like someone had sucked all of the air out of my lungs. My eyes teared up, and I blinked it away. Nothing bad had happened. I just… missed her, in a way that I’d never missed anyone.
“Owen Harper, I think you’re in love,” she said softly. Sweetly. Anne Marie opened her arms for a hug, and she hugged me so tightly that I couldn’t draw a full breath. She was much shorter than me, but I hugged her just as tight, leaning my head down to hers.
“I can’t be, it’s only been like three days. That doesn’t–”
“Owen, you’ve been in love with her the moment you saw her at the exhibition. You’ve been dreaming about her your whole life. Of course you love her. Have you thought to maybe, I don’t know, talk to her about it?”
Just then my phone chimed, and I saw the messages from Merrow. A coffee cup. A blue heart. A speech bubble. Maybe a thought bubble; I wasn’t sure.
“It’s dumb cute that you text each other in emojis,” she laughed. I didn’t want to tell Anne Marie about Merrow’s struggle with reading; that felt too personal, like it was a secret she shared with me, knowing I wouldn’t reveal it to anyone else.
I sent back a thumbs up and a smiley face with hearts around it. Then I sent one more–a blue heart in return.
“I don’t know how to even have the conversation,” I said.
“It’s simple. It goes like this, ‘Merrow, I love you, and I think I’ve always loved you.’ ” Anne Marie’s voice dropped to a low, awkward baritone as she brushed the hair from my face .
“You are the worst ,” I laughed. The sandwich was already forgotten, and she pushed the plate a little closer. I took a sip of the coffee to appease her, but the caffeine soothed me.
“At least you’re smiling, but seriously Owen, you have to talk to her. She isn’t gone yet. She has a phone. There’s ways to stay in touch. It’s not like she's going to disappear into thin air.”
“But what if–” I stopped. I didn’t want to think about it, much less say it out loud.
“What if?”
“What if Merrow doesn’t love me? What if she doesn’t want anything to do with me–”
“You’re spiraling. Look at your texts. She wants to see you. You want to see her. This isn’t the hard part, Owen. The hard part is being brave enough to tell her how much you love her.”
“I… you’re right.”
“Duh, I’m always right. Now go clock in so you can get paid for these free therapy sessions. Honestly, I should change career paths.” Anne Marie froze for a second, like she was the one that suddenly needed to spill.
“Okay your turn. Spill.”
“Well, you know I was going to school for business? Well… I’ve decided to buy Beans and Barley. I already talked to the owners. They love it, but Gary and Martie are getting up there in age and they just want to retire. They don’t have any kids, so I talked to them about buying it out–”
“Anne Marie, that’s amazing ! Is that why you’ve been here so much?”
“Yeah, also, I just love this place, ya know? It’s like my second home. And with how much I’m gonna be spending to buy this place, it might as well be my home.”
“I’m proud of you dude. That’s seriously great. You’ll be great at it. ”
“Yeah, I just need to hire a couple of people so I’m not running myself into the ground, but that’s down the line. Nothing will be finalized for a while yet, and they are really being so easy to work with–”
I hugged my friend–my best friend–again. She was living her dreams. I knew she wanted to go into business for herself, and now she was. Beans and Barley would be in great hands. I already pictured how she would cover the cafe in plants, painting the walls the sage green she obsessed over. This place would thrive under Anne Marie’s dedicated hand and she would be so happy here.
“I wanted to ask you if you’d consider doing a mural for me. I’d love to have an ocean scene on that wall. The soft green is cute, but some really vibrant coral and stuff would be better. You can do a mermaid too, if you want. And of course I’ll pay for it.” She stuffed her hands in the back pockets of her jeans, hiding the fidgeting.
“Buy the paint and the brushes, and I’ll do it for free.”
“Don’t undersell yourself–”
“It’s a thank you gift,” I said, happiness and warmth and belonging filling every part of me. This week had been a whirlwind; after so many years, I was building the life that I wanted for myself. Beans and Barley would be overrun with customers soon, and I let my eyes drift around the shop. The coffee canisters along the right sidewall with whole coffee beans and grinder gave the space warmth. The wood tones and clean, black metal was modern and cozy. Light from the windows poured in, and my chest ached with joy.
“For your therapy sessions? Dude, you’re gonna have to start spilling more so I can land a few more truth bombs if you’re gonna paint me a mural every time.”
“I meant for being my friend, but that too, I guess.”
“You’ve got a heart of gold,” she said, and her smile was back. Anne Marie would turn this place into the cafe of her dreams; and I was more than happy to help her anyway I could .
We fell into a rhythm of working silently together. Anne Marie worked the front, chatting with customers and flirting–she loved being the center of attention, loved having people to smile and flirt with her. I made the drinks and orders as fast as I could, moving with an efficient, practiced speed. It was soothing in a way; my mind couldn’t think about anything else and for now, that was a blessing.
When my phone chimed three times in a row, I signaled to Anne Marie that I needed to step away for a minute. It was time for a break anyway–
The phone chimed four more times before I washed my hands and fished it out of my pocket.
Texts. All from Merrow. Crying faces and… fish emojis?
Voice notes, since she couldn’t read.
“Oh Owen, I hope this works, I don’t know how to use this thing. Everything here is so hard, so strange. Oh Atlana, is it working? Owen–”
“Owen, please, use this thing to contact me. We have to–”
“--Before things change too much. Owen, oh Owen, please–”
I stopped listening and called her but she didn’t answer. Merrow’s voice wobbled through every word, fear racing through her. My stomach sank, what was happening?
Why wouldn’t she answer the phone?
“Everything okay? You bolted,” Anne Marie came to the back room to check on me. With two people standing in the little storage room, it felt claustrophobic. The smell of coffee was normally a comfort but now I felt like I was drowning in it, drowning in everything.
“I don’t know,” I said, and played the messages for Anne Marie. She stepped out of the small room, giving us both some space.
“That sounds odd. Like, she doesn’t know how to use a phone? What’s going on with this chick?” Her arms were crossed, and I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know why Merrow couldn’t answer the phone; she understood the emojis, even if her reading skills weren’t great .
“Okay, I’m not trying to be mean here bud, but like, is she mentally stable? She seemed… a tiny bit crazy-pants there. Has she acted like that before?” she asked. I saw the concern lining her eyes, the way they narrowed as she studied me, wondering how far gone too.
“She’s not crazy, and this is the first time I’ve seen her upset. She was totally fine yesterday except for when we were–”
Anne Marie shot a hand up, “Spare me the details. I get it.”
“We’re going to meet tonight, but I feel like I should go see her as soon as I’m off.”
“If you’re okay with fewer hours, you can go. Sean is coming in soon anyway.” This was one of those relationships that I craved all of my life, I realized–this friendship and safety. My throat was dry from all of the words I was choking on, but I didn’t need to say them. Anne Marie batted me away, telling me to go. She took my dirty apron and practically pushed me out the door.
I smelled like coffee but I didn’t head home like normal. The Saltwater Sisters Cafe was not far, and it would only take ten minutes or so to walk there. I sent her a few texts: I’ll be there soon, I’m coming, running emojis, hearts, and a worried face.
She didn’t respond to them.
The cafe was bustling when I got there; the women behind the counters smiled at me, greeting me like I was a normal customer. Did Merrow tell them about me? These women looked nothing like her, but she said they were family.
“Hi, I’m looking for Merrow?” I said, talking to a slim, fair blonde woman. Her expression sharpened like she wanted to shred me for even asking about Merrow. Something about her was familiar too; she didn’t look at all like Merrow with her fair hair and skin, but the intensity of her eyes showed the kinship .
“You know Merrow?” she said, and the other two came to her side, studying me.
“Yeah, we’ve been seeing each other. My name is Owen–”
“She’s upstairs, you can go up,” the youngest looking one said. Her dark dark and bright eyes were striking, and the blue of her eyes was the only familiar feature I saw from them that reminded me of Merrow. The woman with the green wavy hair merely crossed her arms, not saying a word. Her hair had the same natural vibe to it that Merrow’s did; like she was truly born with green hair.
“Is she alright?” I asked, as the dark haired one led me up the stairs. Her sisters–or friends, whoever they were–stayed behind the counter, but their stares bore into the back of my neck like a burn.
“She was feeling under the weather today,” she said. Her voice gave nothing away, and I just followed silently until we were in a small apartment. She pointed to a room that had to be a closet, just judging from the shape and size of the building.
“Merrow?” I called, opening the door. She sat on the bed, looking at her thin, webbed fingers. Something blueish caught my attention, and Merrow tucked her hands under herself to hide them.
“Adara, you brought him here?” she asked. Merrow sounded like she was close to breaking. That tremble in her voice was magnified now that I was here with her, and I rushed over, kneeling on the floor. Merrow’s eyes were glassy and red-ringed. The crystal blue of her irises turned to storm clouds.
“I’m here, what’s going on?” Her knees knocked together, trying to force the shaking down.
A silent conversation passed between Merrow and Adara. Once Adara nodded, she pulled the door closed behind us. The small room felt just as small as the storage room at Beans and Barley. Merrow had a small bed and dresser with a mirror hanging on the wall. There was a small window, and I wondered briefly if this was where she stood, watching me walk to the beach that first night that we kissed.
“Owen, you’re here,” she whispered. Her skin was chilled, little bumps raised on her arms and legs. I caught another flash of blue from her hand, when she finally looked at me with tears in her eyes.
“We need to talk.”