Chapter Ten Picnic #2
“A month next week,” I point out.
Madelyn grins at me. “Keeping track?”
“Absolutely. Ooh, speaking of marking the dates, let me tell you what I got Zack. I got him a dino excavation kit that comes with safety goggles, little chisels and brushes, and promises at least one real fossil and lots of toy dinos inside. It’s heavy, a big brick of plaster, I think.
It says not suitable for children under three, but Zack will be three on Friday. Does that mean—”
Madelyn leans into my side with a happy sigh.
“It means that you have to watch him with it, and you can’t just give it to him to play with on his own.
Three-year-olds still put things in their mouths and can choke on small parts.
Some three-year-olds. Zack has never done much of that.
He’s always been mature for his age. He hit a lot of milestones early. ”
“I can tell. Obviously, I don’t intend to leave him alone with something that comes with safety goggles. It says ‘adult supervision required’ right on the box. Even though I think he’s gifted, I intend to help him with the kit.”
“I know you will. That’s why I think you’re wonderful. And you’d be a wonderful dad.”
My insides buzz, and everything inside of them feels like it’s steeped in honey, all golden and sweet from Madelyn’s praise and the wistful tone in her voice.
I want to press the point, but I don’t. “So. Has Zack ever been tested for some sort of young gifted program?”
“I’m not sure that he is gifted, per se, but he’s very bright, and he’s a fast learner.”
“Oh, anyone who sees him swim would know that!” My heart swells at how Zack moves in the water now. He reminds me of a young kraken, or even a merchild. I’m already dreading winter, when it’ll be too cold for our morning swims.
Madelyn nods. “His motor skills are coming along great, and he’s started writing more of his letters this week. The invitations were a big motivator.”
“I’m sure.” I chuckle.
“He’s had a big growth spurt in language and how much he talks just this month. His sentences are longer, and he uses a wider variety of words. Since he met you.”
I puff up with pride, and one of my tentacles drapes lazily around her hips.
In the white gauzy sundress she’s wearing, she looks like some radiant goddess of old.
It doesn’t help that she’s chosen some gold clips to hold back her curls and a chunky gold and turquoise necklace.
“Well, I’m sure it’s not just me. It’s Allison, Petey, and that other little fellow from Petey’s class, Andrew.
Older kids can really stimulate language production and development.
Plus, you’re a wonderful mother, and you talk to Zack constantly about all kinds of things. ”
Madelyn stops at the corner, turns to me, and looks up, eyes sparkling, not saying anything.
“Um. I meant to tell you how much I love that dress,” I murmur. “The whole look. It’s... Well. It’s calling to my kraken fantasies, let me put it that way.”
“You were talking about language development.”
“Um. Yes?” I’m not sure if that’s bad, but by the way Madelyn is looking at me as if I’m a big teal lollipop that she wants to devour, I don’t think it is.
“What kraken knows about toddler language skills?”
“Well, honestly, probably lots of them. We have toddlers, too, although we don’t call them that. But I put the library app on my phone, and I’ve been doing lots of reading.”
“Oh?”
“Mmhm.”
“What about?”
“Oh, child development, cookbooks, investments, and some things on real estate. Things that might help me one day.”
“Help you. Help your family, that’s what you mean.”
She’s caught me. I nod. “‘A guy can dream,’ I believe the phrase is.”
“You seem too much like a dream come true. Too good to be true. And you know what they say about something that’s too good to be true.” Madelyn gives me a side eye that’s only partly playful.
“Oh, I don’t know about that. I’m certainly no dream come true.
I don’t have much in the way of furniture—as in any.
My wardrobe is abysmal. I don’t make a ton of money.
I’m a seasonal employee at this point, so that’s hardly the security most people are looking for.
I require extra-large bathing facilities.
And pants? Suits? Nope. Not going to happen. ”
Madelyn laughs, and it's a real laugh, a genuine, deep, rolling sound that makes my senses dance. “I feel like those things are easily overcome for a man like you—except the pants.”
“Maybe in Harmony Glen there’s a kraken-friendly tailor,” I muse, but the thought of being constricted by fabric makes me feel itchy all over.
“I think I prefer your tentacles au naturale.”
“Well, thank you. I prefer you—” I grind to a halt, my tentacles spasming in embarrassment about what I almost said, that I prefer her au naturale, as well. This has the effect of gripping Madelyn tightly around the waist and jerking her to a stop.
Madeyln shakes her head. “So. Um. How long can krakens be out of water?”
“It varies,” I say, relieved that she graciously changed the topic.
“For me? I need to get wet at least once every twenty-four hours or so.” I gesture to my neck, running a finger over the almost invisible slits that rest on each side.
“My gills open when I’m in the water, but close to preserve dissolved oxygen from the water when I’m on land.
My lungs and respiratory system also function on land, but it’s like.
.. It’s like a hybrid engine. I need oxygen and dissolved oxygen in tandem.
When in the water, I need to surface once every day or two to get oxygen from the air.
After a day out of the water, my reserves of dissolved oxygen are low.
In a few days, I would be critically low and probably very ill. ”
“Any kind of water works?”
“Any kind. Even say... an in-ground pool. Or a hot tub. Calder put a big hot tub in on their screened-in porch before they built their pool. A few hours a day in that suits him perfectly fine. Now, their babies, they don’t show the same kind of ‘hybrid engine’ situation that Calder and I do, where they need both kinds of fuel.
They can just ‘switch tanks,’” I conclude with a nervous smile.
“I babbled, didn’t I? Did you know I’ve barely spoken to another soul for ten years?
But when I’m around you, I want to talk and listen for hours without a break.
Janet says that’s proof that you’re— That you’re special. ” The one.
Madelyn and I are near the beach now, and I can hear the shore birds making their evening calls and see their black silhouettes against the setting orange sun.
“I love that. I’m never bored when I talk to you, but I sometimes worry I’m boring you.”
“Nope. Never.”
“Why didn’t you talk much?”
“Well... My mother and I lived a fairly quiet life after my father left. We spent a lot of time with Calder’s clan, but my mother.
.. My mother didn’t seem to recover after my father left her.
She had offers from suitors, but she didn’t want them.
She was silent and cold, at least she seemed that way to a lot of people.
With me, she always had time to talk, to teach, to tell me stories.
” I stop, my heart suddenly constricted with memories of her.
“Maris. Her name was Maris. She took care of me, and when I went off to explore for a few years on my own, she seemed to sicken. We later found out that the nest she’d made to wait for me in was being polluted with small traces of a chemical that builds up in your system.
By the time I came back and could tell the difference, it was too late.
She’d had too much exposure to ever fully be cured. ”
“Oh, no,” Madelyn looks stricken. “Mercer, how terrible.”
“It was. So, I spent about a decade devoting myself to caring for her, like she’d cared for me.
When she passed, about ten years ago now, I mourned, and then I wanted to shed my loneliness and find my mate.
Someone I would treasure, and never cast aside, unlike some krakens of old.
Unlike my father.” I grimace and swallow down a wave of bitter rage that swells in me.
“I traveled everywhere underwater, staying with some friendly clans, venturing out on my own, always searching for a kraken female. Then, Calder convinced me to try Harmony Glen, and here I am.” I stop at the edge of the beach, looking at how Madelyn glows pink and gold in the sunset, her white dress all the shades of the sky as if she’s absorbing the light.
As if she is the light. “Here I am,” I repeat softly, “staring right at what I’ve been searching for. ”
You know, people place a lot of expectations on first dates.
I told myself not to do that.
After all, dating a kraken would be a learning curve, and his house is underwater.
My expectations were that we’d eat sandwiches on the beach, look at the sunset, make out, and swim.
I was most excited about the swimming, wondering if that glimpse of a vision or daydream of Mercer and me kissing would suddenly come true.
“Wait here,” Mercer tells me, and I realize we’re in a perfectly smooth circle of sand. He disappears into the lifeguard’s locker area and comes back with several mismatched beach towels and a cooler.
I’m probably overdressed for this evening, I think—and then Mercer spreads out the towels, white side up, pats them smooth, and unpacks the cooler.
Wine. Little glasses. A quiche, grasshopper pie, and a board of cheese, fruit, and nuts.
“Wh-what?” I gasp.
“What?” Mercer looks alarmed.
“Picnics! Picnic food. Sandwiches and grapes.”
“I have grapes, right next to the brie.”
“No, I mean... This is too much. This is fancy. You must have spent a fortune on this.”