Chapter 11
Casey needed to go out, and I was grateful to have a normal task to fill the time while Xander disappeared to put some clothes on.
As my furry friend sniffed around outside for a good spot, I attempted to ground myself by noting the grass was still green, the sky was still up, and the seagulls were still screeching in the distance.
Then, I remembered. Last night, when Xander had accompanied me on a walk just like this—and before the fiasco with the leash—he’d been about to say something.
What a difference a day makes, I mused. Now, as I struggled to get my brain around this whole situation, I felt like I was the one experiencing cognitive issues.
By the time Casey and I went back inside and headed out to the kitchen, Xander was already there.
He was sitting behind the counter, so at first, I could only see his upper half.
He was wearing one of my father’s old flannel shirts, and I tried not to notice how nicely the faded green plaid complemented his coloring.
Instead, I crossed to the other side of the island and, while I filled the dog’s bowl with his morning kibble, I cast a sidelong glance underneath the counter to make sure Xander still had legs.
He did. His lower extremities were covered in a pair of Dad’s Levi’s. The worn, paint-splattered denim had never looked so good. But before I could avert my gaze, Xander caught me staring.
Busted.
I gave him a weak smile. “Just checking,” I said.
He nodded in understanding, but his eyes were full of regret.
The bacon and eggs were still out on the marble countertop, so I put them back in the fridge. While the dog was clearly enjoying his breakfast, my appetite was gone.
The pot of coffee I’d put on earlier—and totally forgotten about—had finished brewing, so I went ahead and poured a couple of mugs. I placed one in front of Xander. Then, I was all out of stall tactics.
I took the other mug and got settled on the stool opposite him. I peered down into my coffee for a few seconds, not quite sure how to begin. Eventually, I decided the direct approach was the way to go.
I lifted my gaze and looked across the counter at Xander. “You’re a merman,” I said.
“Yes,” he said.
“Like, a merman,” I repeated.
“Yes.”
“And we’ve met before?”
A pause. Then, “Yes.” The corners of his mouth ticked up, and I saw the barest hint of that smile of his.
“I recognized you right away,” he said. “You see, since that day, I… I’ve thought about you.
A lot.” He looked away then, and a blush flooded his cheeks.
“I thought you might remember me too, but…” He shrugged his big shoulders, letting the sentence trail off.
He remembered me.
All these years, he’d remembered me. Meanwhile, I’d written him off as a figment of my imagination.
I felt a stab of guilt.
“I didn’t remember you,” I admitted, shaking my head.
“Not until just now.” I took a sip of the coffee, considering this.
“But subconsciously, I think I did remember. I think that’s why I instinctively felt safe with you right from the start.
You saved me, didn’t you? Back when I was a girl, when I was drowning. You saved me.”
He shrugged again and nodded, confirming what I’d already managed to piece together.
I cleared my throat. Swallowed. Looked away. “Um…thank you,” I said.
He laughed, but not with amusement. “I think we’re more than even now.”
We were quiet for a bit. It should have been a tense silence, but somehow, it wasn’t.
I marveled at how I’d just gotten the shock of my life—just discovered the universe as I knew it was a different place entirely—and yet, here I was, having a perfectly calm conversation over coffee.
With a genuine, real-life creature of the deep. Go figure.
Although Xander was the one who had wanted to talk, he seemed willing to let me drive the discussion and proceed at my own pace.
Since we were already on the topic of my near-fatal swimming incident ten years ago, it made sense to stick with that.
For once, I didn’t mind talking about it.
Quite the contrary, I felt like I had to talk about it.
“So, how exactly did you save me?” I asked.
After a brief hesitation, Xander put his coffee down, reached under the collar of the flannel shirt, and pulled out that necklace of shells and beads. “With this,” he said.
I nodded. “I remember you putting that on me,” I said. “And afterward, it was like I could breathe underwater. But…how could a necklace do that?”
“Because it’s magic,” he said matter-of-factly.
I looked at him, confused. “Magic?”
He looked back at me, equally confused. “Is that not a word?”
“Oh, it’s a word, all right,” I said. “It’s just not a thing that exists here at the Jersey Shore.”
Xander smiled. And once again, it was his smile. “It exists in my world,” he said.
I sat back, turning that over in my head.
There was another world. A magical world.
Okay, it tracked. He had to come from somewhere. And when he’d said he was from overseas, he sure as hell hadn’t meant Europe.
But it was a big idea.
A big idea.
And yes, before my swimming mishap, I’d had big ideas too. Maybe not this big, but still. I’d had a lot of imprecise but grandiose notions about where I’d go, what I’d do, who I’d end up being.
Only, since that fateful day, well…I’d stopped thinking big, hadn’t I? Looking back, I could see how, after that whole misadventure, I’d tempered my expectations. I’d stuck close to home, and I’d let my own world become small.
Another world? There was a whole other world out there?
Hell, in the last ten years, I hadn’t even left the state. These days, I hardly ever left the Jersey Shore, mostly staying within a few miles of the Sunny Side Bed-and-Breakfast.
Oh, sure, I’d been telling myself it was because of work, because of responsibilities, because of adulthood, because of…life. But now, it was seeming like my brush with death had had a bigger effect than I’d realized.
In the aftermath of my near drowning, all I’d wanted was to get back to the Sunny Side and forget what had happened to me. I figured forgetting was the way to move on. So, I’d forgotten. Only, I hadn’t moved on, had I? I hadn’t moved anywhere.
Now, I had to wonder… In stuffing down all those memories, had I also snuffed out something inside me? Something essential? Something…big? Because, sitting here with Xander, finally talking about the past, I felt the spark of something igniting—or reigniting—deep down in my soul.
Slowly, I inhaled.
Exhaled.
“Okay, Xander,” I said. “I think you’re going to need to tell me more about this world of yours.”