by Zara Steen
“Nice, but you were born in Canada right?” Evie said. I nodded.
Leah sighed. “Your dad looks like Oded Fehr. Dreamy!”
“How do you know what my dad looks like?” I asked surprised by her proclamation.
Leah was playing with her curls, messily placing them atop her head as she spoke. “My mom owns the bakery in Upper Tantallon and he stopped there the other day. I knew he was your dad immediately. It was pretty clear once he said, my daughter Anya loves chocolate.”
“Oh,” I said with a smile, “yeah, I guess my dad's a good looking guy.” Both of my parents were very attractive... and then there was me. I couldn't help but glance in the mirrors in front of me and wish that I looked more like a Mermaid. I took a seat and flipped through a nearby magazine to keep myself distracted.
In the next hour they must have each tried on over half a dozen dresses, but when they were finished they had finally found their choices. Leah ended up with a robin's egg blue halter dress, similar to her first choice while Evelyn opted for a notched orange strapless dress. Even though I hadn't bought anything for myself I still managed to walk out of the store with a shopping high. Part of me was a little convinced that just maybe school dances could become my sort of thing.
Chapter 4
The first week of school went quickly and by the end of it, the buzz of the cafeteria dulled and my eyes had adjusted to the bright lights. The morning bus rides were not nearly as bad as they could have been, and I was completely caught up on the important material I missed so far in the term. I had been so busy with studying and spending time in the library during the week that I hadn't really seen much of the Price family, or had the time to introduce myself to any of the other Mers who attended Sir John A Macdonald High School.
There weren’t any science Mers aside from me; the rest of them lived in Halifax and attended high school there. It seemed that only my parents had strayed from the rest of them and rented a more rural house.
Now that I had handed in the first few projects and assignments for all of my classes though, I felt as though I had a little time to relax. It had been a peaceful Saturday of reading and making shell jewellery. I had cleaned the shells collected the previous weekend and prepared them for a pair of earring hooks when my mother burst into my room on the phone.
“Yes I’ll tell her,” she said her eyes falling on me. “Oh of course, Ondine, I agree with you completely... actually, would you like to speak with her?”
That anxious feeling I always got when my mother passed me the phone started to surface, and I was relieved when she said, “no? Okay, I’ll tell her,” and hung up the receiver. “You’ve been invited to spend time with Merrick this Sunday.” My mother said looking at me proudly.
“Oh?” I said unsure of how to react. “Okay.”
“The Prices are going to Moncton for a shopping trip and Merrick doesn't want to go. The drive's about three hours, too long for him. Ondine and Caspian thought you might keep him company.”
I let the words sink in. “I’m going to be alone with him!?”
My mom laughed. “Why do you sound so fearful? He’s from an honourable family.” She leaned against my window seat.
“Mother, I hardly know the guy.”
“You’ll be fine,” she said with a smile, “you know what we Mers are like Anya, just be yourself. He's your betrothed. He won't harm you. In fact, he's magically bound to protect you.”
“What does dad think?” I knew better than to try and pit one parent against the other. I rarely did as my parents were devoted to each other, always respecting one another's opinions.
“Your father approves,” she said smiling and then patted me on the head before leaving. I let out a deep sigh. Well at least this way we would finally talk with each other.
I arrived at the Price house at 1:50 PM. The same seal-eyed windows on the house spoke to me, only this time they appeared much less ominous, familiar almost.
“Have a good time!” My father said with a smile.
“You’re not coming in?” I asked nervously. He shook his head.
I got out of the car and puffed out a deep breath, while I swung my father’s vintage satchel over my shoulder. I had convinced him to give it to me for my birthday. The brown leatherette was soft as I ran my fingers over it before ringing the doorbell. My father was still waiting in the car, and I was thankful that at least he was going to make sure Merrick was there. The door swung open a few seconds later, and he stepped out onto the patio waving to my father, who honked the horn a few times before he pulled away.
“Hi,” I said, feeling shy as he ushered me in and I removed my boots.
“Hey Anya,” he said, the corner of his mouth pulling upwards slightly when he noticed me shift uncomfortably. His eyes examined me from head to toe and back.
“So...” I said, not really sure what else to say.
“Is that all you brought for a jacket?” He asked
“Yes. Why?” I asked, noticing that he only wore a long sleeved white tee beneath an opened plaid shirt with a pair of jeans. Ondine hadn't mentioned that I would need to dress any particular way, so I just wore jeans and a black sweater with my regular fall pea coat and scarf.
“I need to work on my bike in the garage for a little bit. Are you hungry, thirsty?” He asked gesturing for me to come further into the house.
“No, I ate already,” I replied, though I had been so nervous and had to force my my food down.
“Good,” he said stopping by the foot of the stairs to button up his shirt. I watched him button the first few, his dark hair was falling into his eyes and he looked incredibly cute, his mouth twisting with charm. My eyes were fixed on him until he glanced up at me and I slowly turned my head, and made my eyes examine the room.
He smirked at me, and I tried looking innocent before I asked, “what?”
“You’re going to need another coat kiddo?”
One of my eyebrows shot up into an arch. “Kiddo?”
“Yeah,” he said coming closer and flicking my nose. “Kiddo. Come on, follow me upstairs.” I was annoyed by his flippant attitude, and by the fact that he had flicked my nose, but I still managed to follow.
We made our way to his room, which was surprisingly clean. My eyes examined quickly. I was impressed. Unlike the rest of the house, Merrick’s room was quite the contrast. The wainscoting in his room was a medium stained wood, not the stark white in the rest of the house. The grain and texture of it popped against midnight blue walls. One wall was decorated with framed canvases. Each had been splattered with iridescent blue and green paint, and the centre one etched was with a human heart.
His things were placed neatly on bookshelves: many books, and some board games. A double bed with a medium stained wooden frame was in the middle of the room, a plaid comforter neatly spread out over its surface. The nightstands at his bedside had large, amber coloured, glass lamps with rustic grasscloth lampshades. One lamp was turned on, spilling light over the surface of the right table where a chess set had been placed. All of its pieces were in their appropriate spots on the board except for a sole white knight lying toppled to its side—defeated maybe.
He opened the closet door and riffled through it to the back.
“This should do,” he said pulling an item out and tossing it to me. It was a quilted jacket that would be huge on me. I popped open the snaps and slipped it on. It smelled like cologne and grease. Thankfully more like the former than the latter. I was tempted to pull the collar up so I could smell it more deeply, but he was looking at me in consideration while he slipped into a similar jacket. My fingers fumbled under his scrutiny and he closed the distance between us, buttoning the snaps for me.
“You’re a bag of bones,” he said with a nod towards my mid section, “you need to eat more.”
“Believe me, I eat plenty,” I said without thinking and finished the top two buttons before he could. My fingers still trembled a little, feeling rushed and uneasy with his pre
sence. Of course, he noticed.
“Are you afraid of me, little mouse?” He asked leaning in even more so that I backed up until I was flush against the door. His arm pushed back against the door until it closed. The sound of the latch closed with a resonant echo on my burning ears. My nose and mouth were covered by the tall collar of the coat, but if I could see my eyes I imagined they were as big as sand dollars. Then I realized what he had just called me and my temper reared.
“Must you insult me!?” I said pulling down the collar to project my voice. “First I’m kiddo, then a bag of bones, and now a mouse! Honestly do you think I’m just a little child? I won’t always look like this!” He still looked at me thoughtfully. “By Poseidon, I pray I don’t.”
“At least my little mouse has a voice,” he said amused, and then slid me to the side of the door to open it and hastily make for the stairs. He sauntered down them with grace until he disappeared.
“Come on Anya.” He called from the bottom of them returning to see where I was.
I groaned to myself, but followed him, slipping on my boots and walking after him to their shed. As soon as we were outside I was glad that he had given me an extra jacket.
He flicked on the halogen lights and the dark room brightened enough for me to see all of the tools and empty cans about. If he kept his room tidy, his workplace was quite the mess in contrast. The wood smell was pleasantly strong, tinged only slightly by grease and some sort of mild chemical or adhesive.
“You can sit there,” he said pointing to an upside down barrel. It didn’t look very sturdy, but I took his word for it and sat down gingerly. I pulled out my gloves from my bag and the book I had brought in case he decided to ignore me until my parents came to get me.
I started reading, only glancing at him on the rare occasion when he cursed, frustrated by what he was doing. I didn’t ask if things were okay because clearly, they weren’t. Although the words rested on the tip of my tongue, they never came out. Instead I paused from my reading to watch him until he seemed to figure everything out and began to work again.
About forty-five minutes into our little routine he stopped working and looked up. My foot had been jiggling. It was partly because the part in the book that I had gotten too was exciting and I didn’t know what would happen next and partly because it was colder than usual. I didn’t handle the cold as well as other Mers unless it was in water. Somehow he guessed.
“Are you cold?” He asked me.
I looked up over the top of my book. “A little.”
He pulled out a space heater, planting it near my legs, and turned it on, adding to the vibrating noises in the room as the machine hummed out heat.
“Ooo toasty,” I said. “Thank you.” I jiggled my feet in front of it, until at last, I felt warmed. We continued in the same fashion- him working, and me reading for another thirty minutes before he stopped altogether.
“Anya,” he said and waited until I looked at him before he continued. “Are you going to talk to me at all?”
I placed my bookmark in my book and let it rest in my lap considering his question carefully.
He wanted to talk? Why hadn’t I gotten that impression?
“You want to talk?” I asked trying to hide my surprise. “What do you want to talk about?”
“I dunno,” he answered averting my gaze. “Isn’t that what we’re supposed to be doing here? Is there anything you want to know about me? Is there anything you want to ask?”
There were a million things I wanted to know about him, but only one question I really wanted to ask.
“Anything?” I asked, this time my eyes were fixed on him. Even though he didn’t waver, I could detect a slight uneasiness in his emotions.
“Yep,” he replied, his teal eyes meeting mine. I took a deep breath, preparing the words in my mind before I spoke them.
“Why did you pick me? We hadn’t spoken a word and you chose me for your mate?” We would remain bound to each other forever, but this part I did not add- neither of us needed the reminder.
“Honestly?” He began, walking closer to me as though it were a secret. He remained quiet, so I nodded to encourage him.
“I figured I had more time to spare since you’re the youngest candidate I’ve met. I mean, you haven’t transcended yet, and you’re intelligent. You probably recognize that some of this is pretty archaic. Sure our parents seem pretty happy, but sometimes I wonder if they really think that we’ll be satisfied with spending eons together if we don’t see other people while we're young to figure out what we like- to experience life. I understand we'll have the rest of our lives together, eventually, but right now we’re young. We should have fun."
I wasn’t disappointed with his answer. It was rational, well thought out and well said. He continued to move closer as I began to speak.
“Makes sense,” I replied, “I understand then. I was glad that we both agreed at the first meeting that education is important and that will take time. And really it’s not like I look like a Mer just yet anyway, so I knew you weren’t instantly attracted to me since I’m no bathing beauty, so to speak. You’re not really the first Mer who didn’t find me attractive anyway. At least now I understand your motive and then like you say we can just figure things out eventually. Although, I would understand if you change your mind, Merrick, I’m not really much of a Mer yet so don’t feel like you have to—”
And then he kissed me. His soft lips pressed against mine tenderly while his scent invaded my nostrils. It was not just once either, but three successive, sweet kisses while his hand wrapped around my cheek.
I had closed my eyes savouring each kiss- kissing him back just as softly, and when I opened them I looked at him, confused. After everything he had just said—he kissed me.
“Why did you do that?” My eyes were searching his veiled facial expression.
“You were talking too much.” He said simply.
“Oh. Sorry.” I said and swallowed hard, my heart hammering up to my throat.
“Just don’t do it again,” he warned. And I wondered if it would grant me more kisses to keep rambling on like a fool. Suddenly I thought that I might want more kisses, or did I? I didn’t speak, instead I nodded.
He returned to his bike and tinkered for a few minutes before he lifted it, placed in a corner and threw his tools on the counter.
“It’s too cold out now. We should head back inside.” He said opening the shed door for me.
I hopped down from the barrel, returned my book to my bag and turned off the heater before following him. I was still a little confused by the kisses. There was no pity in his eyes, or attraction... maybe curiosity. Yes, perhaps he had kissed me out of curiosity, but even that didn't seem to add up and his emotions were so unclear.
Chapter 5
As soon as we made it inside, I felt as though it was too warm. The intimacy between us made my heart tingle and I didn’t know how to feel about it all. He grabbed the jacket from my hand, hanging it with his on a rack by the door and we made our way to the kitchen. As he grabbed a box of mac and cheese from the cupboard, I grimaced inwardly.
“You’re not going to eat that are you?” I asked.
He gave me a mischievous look. “Umm yeah, unless you want to make me something better.”
I couldn’t help but chuckle. “Put that back, I’ll make you something better.”
Then I was looking through the cupboards, asking him where things were and assembling ingredients on the counter. Since my parents were rarely home during the week to make supper, I learned early on how to cook, and usually prepared something for them.
“Do you have any shrimp?” I asked him while I diced a tomato and placed it next to the already chopped garlic clove. He had watched me with a hint of amazement as I had moved around the kitchen, and a single finger shot up bidding me to wait while he disappeared into a pantry. He returned with fresh shrimp, scallops, and clams. My mouth watered immediately.
“Won’t your parents
need that for your family meals?” I asked not wanting to use up too much of their food supply.
Merrick chuckled. “No, you should see the fresh fish on ice in the cold room, plus the freezer in there, it’s filled with seafood. They won’t mind, we usually rifle through it as we please.”
“Oh,” I said suddenly wondering what it would be like to have a much larger family, to even have siblings.
I cooked quickly, while he watched and grabbed me anything I needed. Soon the sauce I was preparing was done. I grabbed the linguine I had found and added it to the boiling pot.
“You must cook often,” he said leaning against the counter still watching me.
“Yeah, I do,” I said picking up the spoon to stir the sauce.
“Let me taste that,” he said with a smile handing me a smaller spoon. I scooped some up blowing on it lightly to cool it and he moved closer, bending down with his mouth slightly ajar.
“Mmm,” he said, his lips smacking in approval. “It’s really good but it needs some hot sauce. Do you like your food spicy?” He asked me.
“Yeah, sometimes,” I replied grabbing the hot sauce I had spotted in the fridge and adding a few drops.
“Will you make me supper like this when we’re married?” He asked.
My cheeks flushed as I realized what he said.
When we're married?
My thoughts suddenly muddled. It seemed like such a faraway place in time.
I wandered off to that time and place, but only for a few extra seconds before I finally found my voice, “Yes, most of the time.”
He leaned in closer to me, still bracing against the counter. “You’ll spoil me.” He said smiling.
I smiled back while I drained the pasta, but then gave him a sharp look. “Sometimes you’re going to have to help me and other times you’ll have to cook -not anything out of a box either.”