Waterborn (The Emerald Series Book 1) (24 page)

“Make yourself a drink. I’ve got just about everything.” He nodded toward the bar, which I skipped, opting for a water out of the refrigerator.

“What’s all this.” I ran my fingers over a series of shelves. A set of jaws wrapped in thick plastic sat on the lower shelf with three more beside it. I stopped in front of the biggest one for a closer look. Too many serrated triangular teeth to count.

“My market.”

“That’s a bunch of teeth.” I shuddered despite the plastic covering, fingertip grazing over each jagged point. “I have nightmares about these things.”

“Good instincts,” he said. “That one nearly bit me in half.” His words combined with the feel of the teeth on my finger, created an all too vivid picture of torn flesh.

“It must have been a very big shark.” I could fit my whole body in the span of the gaping jaws.

“Nearly nineteen feet. Mean son of a bitch. Hungry.” His voice held a kind of awe, as though he had an affinity for the creature despite the fact it had wanted to eat him.

“I didn’t know there were sharks that big in the Gulf.” I looked at him over my shoulder. The idea made me shudder.

“The water usually stays too warm, but every now and then during the winter months a great white wanders in.”

“What does it sell for?” I looked sideways at him. “If you don’t mind me asking?”

“Why? You interested?” He lifted his eyebrows at me. He poured a glass of orange juice then added a liberal amount of Gray Goose. “Twenty-five grand will do it.”

“For the jaws of a shark?” My mouth dropped open.

“Not just any shark. Great whites are endangered. It’s illegal to kill them.”

“That didn’t stop you.”

“My legs were halfway down that fucker’s throat. Besides, great whites are our only natural enemies. Most Gulf sharks are too small to be any real threat and don’t consider us food. Great whites prey on large marine mammals, of which we are.”

“And this?” My hand ran over a tightly wrapped bag of marijuana. These lined the shelves along with other things I thought it best to remain ignorant about.

“Cannabis.” He had come to stand next to me and took a sip from his glass before he said, “Your breakfast awaits.”

“Peanut Butter Cap’n Crunch?” I took the spot across from him at the round table, my butt sinking into the cushy chair.

“I like to think of him as a pirate.” Milk sloshed on the glass tabletop as he filled the bowl to almost overflowing before sliding it across the table in front of me.

“Happy birthday, Caris Marie Harper.” He held out a spoon, his lips quirking in a mischievous smile.

“How did you know that?”

“I don’t usually have a problem getting information when I need it. And you’re not the only one curious. That is why you’re here, isn’t it?”

“Mostly,” I said, lifting the spoon to my mouth. “And maybe to get back at my dad for lying to me all this time.” I took a bite of cereal, crunching through the silence as he considered me around a long gulp from his glass.

“You, vengeful? I don’t think so.” He angled his head down at me. “But then he’s not really your dad, is he?”

“Yes, he is. In all the ways that matters,” I said, somewhat surprised by my quick defense of him.

“God, you must be full of questions. I can’t even imagine it. If I was in the habit of feeling sorry for people, I’d feel sorry for you.” His spoon paused halfway to his mouth. “You could hang here for a couple a days, learn a few things.”

“I think I much prefer Noah’s methods at this point. He doesn’t have an agenda, as far as I’m concerned.”

“Other than getting in your bikini bottoms, I would agree, but come on, Caris. His best friend is a dolphin. Let me guess, he’s teaching you to do tricks then rewards you with food.” He had crunched through one bowl of cereal and reached to pour another.

“It’s not like that.” I shook my head, suppressing a smile. Maybe one time it had been like that. “He’s been very patient.”

“To the point of physical pain, I’m sure.” Sol snorted.

“I trust Noah,” I said in all seriousness.

“I can’t fault your judge of character. I wouldn’t trust me either. But we are family, Caris. And he’s not as talented as you are.”

“Is that what you call what you can do? A talent?” I’d been trying to figure out what happened on the beach for two days now. What it really meant that I could make it rain with a concentrated thought. Though I don’t remember thinking about it at all. It had been more of a reaction to him. To Sol.

“What else would it be? And you have more than one. I have to admit, when I heard you, I got a little freaked out. Being someone’s ball and chain is not my idea of a good time.”

“What do you mean? You hear my Song too?” I swallowed on a grimace, my cereal suddenly scratchy in my throat.

“Not in the same way Noah does, but yeah.” He shrugged. “We are blood. It happens. I should have figured it out that night on the beach. You did see me, didn’t you?”

I thought back to the night of my nightmare, the one that had nearly strangled me. Yes, I’d seen him. I had just assumed that it was Noah. “Yes.”

“So, is Daddy your next stop?” He let his spoon clatter in his empty bowl.

“No. And don’t call him that. Like I said, I have a dad already. I’m not interested in another one.” It kind of hurt to say that, considering my childish behavior lately.

“It all kind of makes sense now.” He sat back, regarding me, holding his glass on his bare chest.

“What does?”

“The kind of life he’s lived. His self-imposed exile. I’ve always wondered what he felt so guilty about.”

“I’m not talking about him with you,” I said, gathering up my bowl and spoon and walking it over to the sink.

“Fair enough. I suspect our time is almost up anyway.” He deposited his own bowl in the sink and meandered his way back out into the sun.

“Thanks for the cereal, Sol. I accept your apology.” I finished off the last of my drink, thinking this had gone much better than I thought it would.

“Funny, I don’t remember offering one. Come swim with me. It will make our familial bond complete,” he teased.

And wouldn’t that be the best birthday present ever.

“I can’t.” The two words brimmed with frustration. I couldn’t even look him in the face when I said it, unaccountably embarrassed. I could play the breather version of a telepath and possessed some useless skill with rain, but I still couldn’t swim.

“She’s fickle you know. She doesn’t want you until you truly want her.” He nodded toward the expanse of water surrounding the boat, land so far away it was all but forgotten. I could see the appeal of living out here, with nothing but the wind and the rolling of the water. The next best thing to being in the water was being on it.

“The water washed away the most superficial elements of the charm. But the most basic, most elemental need of a waterbreather is to soar through the Deep.” The intensity in his voice was captivating.

“That can only be accomplished in here.” He placed his hand over the center of my chest, where underneath the cool palm of his hand my heart pounded. “You have to choose, Caris. For whatever reason, you abandoned her. You have to want to come back.” He let his hand fall away. “Magic can’t choose for you. You have to do that for yourself.”

Was it really that simple? Was it really that complicated?

I
don’t know
what made me think of my first day of womanhood.

I had been thirteen and didn’t have a woman to call to come pick me up from school after a trip to the bathroom during science class. Even though the contents of my purse, in anticipation of this unavoidable event, could have supplied the entire eighth grade. I couldn’t stomach the idea of going back to class, because surely everyone would know. So, I had called my dad from the nurses station, then waited at the front of the school, raincoat pulled tight against the cold drizzle.

I really missed having a mother that day.

And now, a little over five years later, on my first day of adulthood, it wasn’t my mother I missed. It was my dad.

When Noah had brought me back to the beach behind my house, I’d thanked him and kissed his cheek and told him I had something to do, something I’d put off too long already. All Sol’s talk of choices and wanting things had made me realize maybe the reason I couldn’t seem to move forward was because I’d barely spoken to the one person who had been with me for every step of every monumental part of my life. Not without the same cattiness I’d used with Noah earlier. Or unwarranted sarcasm. Or ungrateful, selfish, wallowing in self-pity, why me whininess.

To be an adult, I had sure been acting like a child.

I found my dad in the living room, sitting in the same blue chair he had been sitting in that night he’d told me my whole life was a lie and everything had changed. The hurt had faded enough that I could see how things had stayed the same too. I might have pieces of another family, a whole tribe I was a part of, but my dad was still here. He hadn’t abandoned me, and I thought he had more than proven he never would.

He had his back to me, facing the windows, the sand and surf brilliant in the afternoon sun. I walked up behind him, not caring that I was dripping all over the floor. He heard me sloshing around, but before he could move, I wrapped my arms around his neck.

“I’m sorry, Daddy.” He moved as if to get up, but I held him in place. I thought if he actually turned around and faced me, I might break down. I’d shed too many tears already.

“Don’t. Just stay there and let me say this.” His smell was so familiar and comforting, the scratch of his stubble welcome on my cheek. “I’ve been selfish and ungrateful, and you’ve done nothing but love me and take care of me when you had no reason to.”

“I’ve had plenty of reasons.” The warmth of his hand enveloped mine.

“And you had reasons not to. Don’t think I don’t know that. You are the kindest most selfless person I know. I love you, Daddy.” I gave his neck a big squeeze and for just a minute, I felt like I was a little girl again. “I just want things to go back to how they were between us.”

“I love you too. Nothing will change that.” He placed a kiss on my cheek. I hugged him tighter, my one true constant.

His shirt was soaked along with the back of the chair. I had managed to bring a gallon of water in with me and a bucket of sand. We laughed and it felt good to do that again with him.

I floated out of the living room, the relief so strong I thought I might actually be able to fly up to my room. My dad’s voice stopped me before I reached the stairs.

“My only regret is that your mother didn’t get to see the young woman you’ve become. She would be proud of you, Caris, of the person you are right now. Please don’t forget that.”

I smiled because words were impossible. Swallowing a couple of times before turning around. “Can I take you to dinner on my birthday, maybe do a little shopping?”

“I’d really like that.”

I ran up the stairs. My heart and legs had never felt lighter.

“
Y
ou look really nice
.” My dad peered at me over the top of his menu. A candle flickered in a blue votive. Combined with the tiny white lights strung through the tree branches, it lent a festive atmosphere to the humid night.

I had taken a little extra care getting ready. After spending days and days in my bathing suit it made me feel a little more like my old plain human self to put on some mascara and lip gloss and real clothes. The sundress I wore fell light and airy over my legs, a flirty swing built into the skirt. I had even used a curling iron on my hair, which now cascaded over my shoulders in long waves, the curls soft on my bare skin.

“Thanks,” I said then took the sushi menu from the waiter. My dad looked at me with raised eyebrows. “I seem to have developed a taste.”

I scanned through the three pages of choices and by the time the waiter came back, I had decided on the rainbow roll. My dad ordered a small plate of roasted potatoes and braised steak. He chuckled over his glass before taking a sip, both of us giddy now that all was right between us.

“It’s good seeing you like this.” He studied me, a freedom in his gaze that had never been there before. He looked about ten years younger than he had a week ago. “You’ve always been sort of, I don’t know…”

“Goofy?” I supplied in a flat tone. “Like a fish out of water?”

“I was going to say masked.” The laughter drained from his eyes and they took on a more solemn look.

“I haven’t done right by you, not telling you more about your mother. A girl should know her mother.” He looked down at his wine as it swirled in the glass. “For awhile I wanted to forget, and by the time you were old enough to hear about her, I was in the habit of forgetting. And then time just… passed. I’m sorry. I haven’t been fair to you. I should have found another way.”

“I’m here now and that’s all that matters.” I took a sip of water to clear my throat. My dad with the Paul Newman eyes, and kind heart, and loyal to a fault. Someone would have loved him if he’d let them. I hoped I wasn’t the reason he hadn’t. “No more sorries,” I said. “From either of us.”

“I’ll try,” he said, though it was easy to tell he wasn’t through with them yet.

The waiter arrived with our food and we bent over our plates.

“May I?” I nodded at his glass. The wine slid over my tongue in a smooth bouquet of blackberries and chocolate. My dad had always had good taste in wine. Another one of the small things we shared. We’d sipped wine in Paris, and taken a tour of the Napa Valley. He’d let me start having a glass of my own when I’d turned sixteen. I closed my eyes and sighed in relief that I hadn’t lost my taste for it.

“How are things with Noah?” His tone sounded innocent enough, but I detected the underlying question. He wanted to know how much like my mother I really was.

“Noah has been very helpful.” I took another sip from his glass and leveled my eyes on his. “He did mention that I’m stuck here. This is home now.”

His face fell into that contrite expression he’d been wearing too much lately. “It was hard to know how much to throw at you. The basics seemed bad enough. I’m so…”