Seaweed (7 page)

“So, what’s for supper?” I asked with a smile. “What do merguys eat for dinner?”

I was sure it would be beneficial that I liked seafood and dulse.

“Ah, you’ll be pleasantly surprised.”

We spent a moment gazing at the view, watching the fishing vessels patrol. A pod of dolphins jumped playfully in the distance.

“When you dive into the ocean, you become a merboy,” I began.

“Merman.”

Merman, not merboy. Duly noted. “Uh, sorry, you become a merman. How does it work the other way? How do you become a human man?”

“My body is more comfortable in its merman form, so transitioning that way is easier, happens in mere seconds. It’s more of a process the other way. I have to pull myself out of the water onto one of the rocks over there.”

He pointed and I saw an outcropping of smooth water-worn rocks that dotted the shoreline. “It’s easier if it’s high tide, and it’s better if it’s dark. Even though this area is well protected, we can still be spotted by satellite.”

Satellite? I’d never thought about that.

“Then I have to wait until I dry out. Once I’m dry, it just happens. My legs form.”

“Does it hurt?”

“Yeah,” he said, reluctantly. “It’s not something I’d want you to see. But, it’s worth it to me. No one forces me to do this.”

Then I asked the burning question. “Do you think you’ll ever stop?”

“I don’t know.”

I couldn’t keep the concern off my face. Tor stroked my cheek, sending little fireworks down my back. I wanted him to kiss me. Really, really wanted him to kiss me.

He gazed at me oddly, a glint in his eye, dimples forming around a grin. He leaned in slowly. I stopped breathing. This was it—my first kiss. He gently rubbed his lips against mine, and little tingles swam down my arms and chest and throughout my body.

His lips were soft and full with a delicious hint of saltiness. If this was how Tor wanted to keep track of me, I didn’t mind.

“Enough serious talk,” he said quietly, pulling away. “Let’s go eat before Uncle Dex sics the sharks on us.”

I nodded, numbly. Food was the furthest thing from my mind.

CHAPTER TEN

School ended with more of a whimper than a bang. The next day I’d started picking strawberries at Becca’s farm. It was exhausting work, but I got to meet up with Tor at the beach afterward on the days I didn’t go into Saint John for swim club. Usually we grabbed a fruit smoothie and sat on the dock—me with my feet dangling in the water, Tor with his legs crossed safely on deck. Just sitting next to him was energizing.

When the strawberries were finished I spent most of my working hours helping Becca at her fruit stand on the boardwalk, which absolutely came alive during the summer. A myriad of kiosks sprung up from the barren winter beach—souvenir stands with miniature sailboats, dried out sea stars, sunglasses and beach knick-knacks; snack shacks with popcorn, hotdogs, soda pop and every kind of beach treat, along with a wide selection of seafood.

The town strung lights along the boardwalk in the summers so that business could continue after dark. Live music, usually Celtic or folk bands, played regularly on the makeshift stage that was built near the pier every summer.

Tor manned one of the seafood kiosks. I’d wondered how he and his uncle made their money and smiled at the thought of them harvesting mussels, crab and lobster in their private cove. Probably with a very personal touch.

Having Tor at the boardwalk made me happy since I could see him at least once in a while throughout the day. Even though we were spending a lot of after-hours time together, I never got tired of him.

July 1
^st,
Canada Day, traditionally meant a big sand sculpture contest on the beach. I was good at athletics and pretty strong in academics, but I couldn’t draw or do anything artsy to save my life. Because of this I’d never entered, but I always watched and cheered on my more creative friends.

The beach was marked out into sections. Each section had a little red flag staked into the ground with a number. This was where the artist created his or her masterpiece, which was judged by prominent locals including the mayor and the police chief.

Becca and Samara always entered and one year they came in third, which had made them deliriously happy.

The good weather and the national holiday had the tourists out in full force–mostly from Maine and New England, the Eastern Provinces of Canada and a sprinkling from Europe and Asia. I loved this part of summer, when people were dressed in every variety of tacky, and spoke with interesting accents or in languages I didn’t understand at all.

I saw Colby take position, along with Tiffany as his partner. They’d been hanging out a lot since Tor and I had gotten together. I wasn’t sure if they actually liked each other, or if they were just offering each other moral support. Colby’s normal reaction to me these days was a squint and a snarl. And even though I tried to keep things friendly, let’s just say our backseat rides to Saint John were less than comfortable.

Tor signed up to compete.

“I shouldn’t be surprised,” I said. “Is there anything you aren’t good at?”

“Mountain hiking. I need to stay at sea level.”

“Good to know.” Not like there were a lot of mountains around Eastcove.

We went to Tor’s assigned section, red flag number 31. “Don’t mind if I watch, do you?” I said, laying a towel down on the sand.

He smiled knowingly. “Actually, it would help me a lot if you do.”

Like a muse? I was happy to be Tor’s muse and I meant to enjoy my close up view of Tor while he was at it. I wished he’d take off his shirt so I could admire his six-pack and his tattoos but I knew he wouldn’t do that. I felt like merfolk VIP—honored to have had the pleasure of seeing Tor up close.

I shimmied my butt in the sand, getting comfortable. I wore denim shorts and a sea green ribbed tank top. My hair was pulled back in a high ponytail and I had large tortoise shelled rimmed sunglasses on my face. A seashell bracelet dangled from my wrist.

I dug in my beach bag for my sunscreen. Ever since my legs had started erupting I’d been keen to keep the sun’s rays from adding damage. A trip to the doctor’s office didn’t really shed any light on the problem. Dr. Brown had said it wasn’t textbook eczema but gave me a prescription for it anyway.

I waved to Samara and Becca who were close by, red flag number 37. “Good luck,” I shouted.

I leaned back and turned my face to the sun. The breeze was cool enough to keep everyone comfortable. I licked the salty mist from the sea off my lips.

Each contestant was provided with a large pail of water to moisten the sand. I was Tor’s designated water supplier if he got low.

The mayor blew the whistle and sand flew. The contestants had thirty minutes to create their masterpieces.

I was dying to see what Tor had in mind.

Tor dug like mad, shaping the sand into a long slug-like mold. I wondered if I’d overestimated his artistic abilities. I glanced around at the competition. Becca and Samara were forming what looked like a turtle. I saw several castles sprout up and Colby and Tiffany were building something tall.

Tor piled sand on top of one end of the slug, so it looked like an “L” on its side, with the short side sticking up.

“What are you making?” I asked.

He didn’t stop to look at me. “You’ll see.”

He shaped the top bit now and I could tell it was a head. He worked masterfully, a nose and mouth and sunglasses over the eyes. He ran his fingers through the sand until it became a long mass of wavy hair down the back.

I sat up straight, squinting. I took off my glasses and compared them. Tor shaped the torso, modestly creating a ribbed tank top over the bosom and I felt myself blush. When he fashioned a seashell bracelet over one arm I was certain.

He was sculpting me!

“You’ll never win with that,” I said.

“I don’t care about winning.”

Oh, man. I was crazy about this guy! I did my best model at the beach pose with my legs, hoping to help him out a bit.

But he did something different with the legs.

In fact they weren’t legs at all.

“You’re making me a mermaid?” I swallowed. I didn’t know if I should be flattered or offended. Was this what Tor really wanted? Something I could never give him?

Tor stopped and studied me. “Should I not? I can change it.”

I was being silly. “No, that’s okay. I like it.”

Tor went back to work. I was in awe at his detail. I took a good look at the tail; the scales and muscle pattern were perfect in their detail.

He went back to working on the face and I was amazed at how much it actually looked like me. Only more beautiful.

“I think you’re very beautiful,” Tor said.

What? How did he do that?

“You are beautiful to me, Dori. With or without a tail.”

All I wanted to do now was a lot of PDA, but I restrained myself from throwing myself at him.

The whistle blew and everyone stopped. The winner would be announced later on, just before the fireworks.

“Wow.” I couldn’t stop saying it. I might not be a sand sculpture judge, and I wasn’t saying this because it was supposed to look like me, but Tor’s artwork was amazing.

“I’m glad you like it,” Tor said. He leaned in and kissed me gently on the cheek. I
melted
.

“We’re still on for dinner?” he asked. My parents had insisted that I bring Tor over for the family barbecue later.

“Yeah. Hopefully, they won’t be too hard on you.”

“I think I can handle whatever they dish out.” He brushed his hand clean of sand. “I have to close up the kiosk. Meet me later?”

“Yes, we should definitely show up at my house together.” My gaze lingered on him as he left. When he was out of sight, I went to Samara and Becca’s section and admired their turtle. It looked just like the surfer dude turtle from
Finding Nemo
.

“That’s great you guys,” I gushed. “You’re both so talented.”

“My mother would rather I be talented in algebra like you, Dori,” Becca said with a big grin, “but, thanks.”

“What’d Tor sculpt?” Samara shielded her eyes from the sun and peered down the beach.

“Come see.”

I wasn’t sure what to make of their expressions and their initial silence made me nervous and embarrassed.

“It’s official,” Samara said. “He’s gone for you.”

I couldn’t help but giggle when she said that.

“He’s a pretty good artist, too,” Becca said with admiration. “He’s obviously sculpted sand before.”

“Well,” I said. “He does spend a good amount of time on the beach.”

Dad had the barbecue fired up by the time Tor and I slipped into the back yard.

“Hi, sweetie,” Mom said. She had a tray in her hand filled with glasses and a pitcher of iced tea.

Tor stepped up to assist. “Let me help you with that.”

“Oh, all right.” She handed the tray to Tor and looked at me pointedly. “So, are you going to introduce us?”

“Mom and Dad, this is Tor, Tor, my mom and dad.”

Tor set the tray down on the patio table. Dad shook Tor’s hand with a soft pleased-to-meet-you, then turned back to the barbecue without further inquiry. Dad lacked his usual easy-going smile and I got the distinct impression that he wasn’t so crazy about me bringing boyfriend-type guys home.

Mom was far more expressive. “So, glad to finally meet you, Tor. Of course we’ve heard a lot about you. We’re so happy that your incident in the ocean turned out fine.”

Mom!

“Thank you, Mrs. Seward. The moss on the rocks makes them very slippery. Climbing them was a dumb thing to do.”

Dad piped up. “Not at ease on the ocean, eh?”

Tor shot me a quick sideways glance and I tried not to laugh.

“I guess I could learn a few things.”

Mom turned to me. “Nana’s in the kitchen, Dori. Go in and help her with the salad, okay?”

I didn’t like leaving Tor with my parents, but figured he could take care of himself. The salmon steaks were starting to smell good, and I realized I was hungry.

“Where are Luke and Mark?” I asked on my way up the back steps.

“They should be here any minute,” Mom said, dropping cobs of corn into a large pot of boiling water.

Nana was staring out the opened window, obviously spying on all that had just transpired in the back yard.

“Hi, Nana.”

“Hi, darling.” She reached over and pulled me into a one-arm hug, kissing me on the head before letting me go. “How’s my girl?”

“I’m good.” I grabbed the carrot peeler and a carrot.

“So, that’s your new boy?”

Not like I had an old boy.

“I guess so,” I said. Nana wouldn’t stop staring out the window. Her brow furrowed as she watched Tor sitting in a lawn chair petting Sidney who seemed to have finally accepted him as a friend. I didn’t think she liked the idea of me bringing a boyfriend type boy home either.