TWENTY-NINE
Photographs
“So, how are we gonna celebrate?” Marcy asked, hopping on the desk next to the computer where Harper was working.
“Celebrate?” Harper asked, looking away from the monitor to Marcy.
“Yeah. This is your last day of work,” Marcy reminded her. “We have to do something to celebrate.”
“It’s a Tuesday night, Dad’s making supper, and Gemma’s skipping play rehearsal tonight so we can have a family dinner,” Harper said. “Does that count as celebrating?”
“Hardly.” Marcy scoffed. “We have to go out and get buck-wild. Rock our socks off. Paint the town red. That kinda thing.”
“I don’t really feel like painting the town any color.” Harper pushed the keyboard away and leaned back in her seat. “I have all my packing left to do.”
“When do you officially leave?” Marcy asked.
“Classes start Thursday, so I have to leave by tomorrow so I can get slightly acquainted with the campus before getting thrown into things.”
“I thought you already were acquainted,” Marcy said. “Or that’s what you hyped up when we made the road trip to Sundham.”
“Not acquainted enough.” Harper shook her head. “From what I understand, most of the other students were arriving over the weekend or yesterday. They have an orientation going on.”
Marcy scooted back farther on the desk and folded her legs underneath her. “Do you have your classes all picked out?”
“Yep. I registered online. Everything on the college end is all ready. It’s just everything here that feels so messed up.”
“How are things with Gemma?” Marcy asked cautiously.
Harper swiveled the chair back and forth and groaned.
“I don’t know.” Harper shook her head. “She got into some kind of fight with Alex on Sunday night. She won’t really talk about it, and what little I do know I got from Dad.”
“That at least sounds like something normal and adolescent,” Marcy said. “That’s gotta be a good thing.”
“I guess.” She stopped swiveling in her chair to face Marcy. “I had the weirdest conversation with Thea the other day. She basically said she’s looking out for Gemma and wants her to stay a siren.”
“Yeah?” Marcy shrugged. “Didn’t you already know that?”
“Kind of. But she said a few things that made me think.” Harper chewed the inside of her cheek. “Do you think it would be better if Gemma stayed a siren?”
“Better in what way?” Marcy asked.
“If the only two options are death or siren, maybe she should pick siren.” Harper stared up at her. “Right?”
“Right,” Marcy agreed.
“But she hasn’t found the scroll yet.” Harper leaned forward on the desk so her elbows were on it. She rested her head on her hands and peered up at Marcy. “So I shouldn’t go, right?”
“What are you talking about?” Marcy asked.
“With everything going on with Gemma, I should be here supporting her.”
“She’s here now and you still go to work,” Marcy said. “You can’t sit holding her hand every minute. If you go to college, you can still be home every night if you want. It’s not that far away. You’re really making this out to be a bigger deal than it is.”
“I just … I want to make sure I’m doing what’s best for everyone.” Harper scowled. “And I feel like the worst sister ever.”
“Or the most obsessive.”
“Probably both. Obsessive and terrible.”
“You don’t need to be so dreary,” Marcy said. “Me and Daniel and even Thea have Gemma’s back. How many people do you really need babysitting your sister?”
“I know.” Harper sighed. “I just wish we were closer to figuring this all out.”
“Well, I’ve been talking to Lydia.”
Harper dropped her arm and sat up straighter. “Does she know anything more?”
“Not really. I asked if she could keep an eye out for Demeter or Achelous or really any Greek-type figure. She said she would, but she doesn’t know where to find them. Her specialty is shifters, which is why she’s so intrigued by the sirens. She had no idea they could shift.”
“‘Shift’?” Harper repeated.
“Yeah, like shapeshifters.” Marcy wiggled her body, like she was attempting to change form or having a mild seizure, and then she stopped. “Like how a siren transforms from pretty girl to mermaid to bird thing. They’d be called transformers if the robots hadn’t already stolen the title. Stupid Optimus Prime, always ruining everything for everybody.”
“So we’re basically at a dead end now?” Harper asked, slumping forward again.
“Not completely. Lydia said that she heard some things about the muses, but she thinks they’re all dead now.”
“You think the muses literally being dead is not a dead end?” Harper asked, raising a skeptical eyebrow.
“Lydia knows people who knew them. So at least there’s some kind of six-degrees-of-Kevin-Bacon connection,” Marcy insisted.
“That would be more helpful if we were playing a trivia game instead of trying to find a way to break a curse.”
“Okay, we’re like Hansel and Gretel right now.” Marcy turned to face her, getting more excitable as she told her story. “But instead of being abandoned in the woods and getting fat on gingerbread houses, we’re following a trail of fragmented clues. And these clues will lead us to a muse or Demeter or somebody who can actually fix this shit, and that’s way better than going back home with Hansel and Gretel’s lame parents.”
“You really suck at analogies,” Harper said.
“Nah-ah,” Marcy disagreed. “You suck at getting the point I’m trying to make.”
“No, I get it. And you’re right. I know we can do this.” She sighed. “But it feels like we’re running out of time.”
“It’s ’cause summer’s ending and you’re going to school,” Marcy said, trying to cheer Harper up. “But you’ll be home all the time, I’m sure. It’ll be almost like you never left. Except that I’ll have to actually start doing my job. Which is kinda lame.”
“Yeah, it’s gonna be you and Edie all the time until they find a replacement for me. Do you think you can handle it?” Harper smiled up at her.
“Well, it helps that she takes incredibly long lunch breaks now. Do you think she’s having quickies with Gary?”
“Ew.” Harper wrinkled her nose. “And she’s been gone for an hour already. I wouldn’t exactly call that a quickie.”
“Oh, Harper, gross. Way to take it up a notch.”
“Anytime.”
“Hey, look.” Marcy pointed at the door. “It’s your handsome steed.” Harper lifted her head to see Daniel walking toward the library, an old brown box under one of his arms.
She was a little surprised to see him. Yesterday she’d called him a few times, but hadn’t heard from him, other than a text confirming that he was okay—just busy.
“Steed?” Harper asked, glancing back at Marcy. “You do realize that a ‘steed’ is a horse.”
“Really?” Marcy asked, but she didn’t sound swayed. “I thought it meant, like, knight in shining armor.”
The chime above the door jingled, and Daniel strode over to the front desk.
“No, that’s what knight in shining armor means,” Harper informed Marcy.
“You must be talking about me,” Daniel said. “Continue. Pretend I’m not here.”
“I don’t know if you noticed, but we’re working, Daniel.” Marcy did her best to sound bitchy, which was hard to do when she was so monotone. “This is Harper’s last day, and I need her to focus and finish all the work she’d ordinarily be doing over the next nine months. So we’re pretty swamped.”
“Marcy,” Harper chastised her, but she was laughing.
“Sorry, Marcy,” Daniel said. “I’ll only take a couple minutes. I promise.”
“Fine.” Marcy sighed dramatically and got off th
e desk. “I’ll just go back in the office and eat Edie’s snacktime yogurt.”
“Why are you doing that?” Harper asked.
“Because when she eats it, she gets really graphic with the spoon, and it’s gross. Do you think I like peach yogurt? No. I don’t.” Marcy shook her head emphatically as she backed toward Edie’s office. “But I eat it for all the patrons of this fair library. They should thank me. I am a hero.”
Harper turned her attention back to Daniel. “Anyway, what can I do for you?”
“I know that you have that dinner with your family tonight, and I don’t want to intrude on that.” He’d been holding the box so it was hidden from Harper on the other side of the counter, and now he lifted it up and set it down in front of her. “But I wanted to get this to you before you left.”
“You didn’t have to get me anything,” Harper said.
Daniel laughed and looked ashamed. “Now you’re making me feel bad, because I didn’t get you anything. I found this.”
“What is it?” Harper asked, but she was already lifting off the top to peer inside.
“I’ve been cleaning out the cabin, and I found this little secret attic compartment in the top of my closet,” Daniel explained. “There were a few mice living up there, and then this box, containing some memorabilia.”
On top were stacks of old pictures. Some of them had been chewed at the corners, probably by the mice that Daniel had mentioned, but most of them appeared to be in fairly good shape.
“I thought we’d gotten all of Bernie’s stuff out of the cabin. I was wondering why he didn’t have any pictures of his wife in his old photo albums,” Harper said as she sifted through the pictures.
“No, he has quite a few,” Daniel said.
But she didn’t need him telling her that. She’d barely even dug into it and she’d already found dozens of pictures of Bernie and his wife. Both of them appeared very young, and Harper guessed that Bernie couldn’t have been more than twenty-two.
Their wedding picture was particularly gorgeous. Her dress was exquisite, and she was absolutely breathtaking. Her long blond hair had a few simple curls, and her smile was radiant. Bernie stood next to her, a young man who’d never looked happier or more dapper, but she stole the whole picture. It was almost as if the camera couldn’t focus on anything else but her.
“She was so stunning.” Harper admired a picture of Bernie and his wife in a modest 1950s-style bikini, then held it out for Daniel to see. “Look at her. And look at how handsome Bernie was. They were so happy.”
Since she was holding it out, she could see their names scrawled on the back: Bernard and Thalia McAllister—Honeymoon, June 1961.
“And Thalia,” Harper said. “That’s such a beautiful name. I always forget it, but it’s so pretty.” Something occurred to her, something she couldn’t quite place. “Does that name sound familiar to you?”
“No, I can’t say that I’ve ever known any Thalias.” Daniel shook his head.
“You say you found all this in the attic?” Harper asked.
“Yeah. This box was the only thing I found up there, other than mouse droppings.”
“Strange,” she said. “I wonder why he hid this.”
Harper set the picture aside and started digging deeper into the box, where the pictures gave way to papers. Old love letters, news clippings of their wedding announcement, even one with an article about Bernie buying the island with money he’d inherited.
“What happened to her?” Daniel asked. He leaned forward, trying to read the papers upside down.
“I don’t know exactly. She had an accident,” Harper said, then she discovered the clipping with Thalia’s obituary. “Oh, here. It says she fell off a ladder while trimming her rosebush and broke her neck. She was only twenty-four.
“They’d been married for two years,” she said sadly. “That’s so horrible. Can you imagine? Thinking you have your whole life together, and then … this. It’s tragic.”
“Well, Bernie seemed like he did all right,” Daniel said, trying to alleviate some of Harper’s unhappiness. “He had a pretty good life, up until the end.”
“Yeah, he did.” She nodded. “He loved that cabin. You know he built the whole thing just for her? He said that her love inspired him.”
“Pfft,” Daniel scoffed, causing Harper to look up at him. “That cabin’s not so great. I’d build you an entire castle. With a moat.”
“With a moat?” She grinned. “I must really be special.”
“You certainly are,” he agreed.
He smiled down at her, but something felt off. His smile didn’t actually reach his eyes, and the flecks of blue that normally sparkled in his hazel eyes were dull. It was like he was holding something back.
Harper had been about to ask him about it when the phone rang.
“Don’t worry, I got it!” Marcy called from the office. “You two just keep flirting. I’ll work and eat yogurt.”
“I think she’s kinda freaking out that I’m leaving,” Harper said.
“I can’t say that I’m too thrilled about it, either,” Daniel admitted.
And that was what she decided he must be holding back. He was getting a little upset about her leaving, but he didn’t want her to know. Because what else would Daniel be keeping from her?
“I could always—” Harper began, but he immediately cut her off.
“No. I know what you’re gonna say, and no. I’ll miss you, but I’ll survive. And so will you.”
“Edie called,” Marcy said as she came out of the office, empty yogurt container in hand. “She claims she’s having some kind of car trouble. But she’ll be here in ten minutes. She apologized for the terrible inconvenience.”
“I’m gonna go put this stuff back with my purse.” Harper put everything back in the box and put the lid on it. “I don’t want to forget it, and I don’t want to give Edie another reason to talk about marriage.”
“Ha! I told you it was annoying,” Marcy said, sounding victorious.
Harper walked to the office. “I never disagreed with you.”
Marcy pushed her glasses up, and then turned to face Daniel. “What’s up, hot cheeks?” she asked, completely deadpan.
“What?” Daniel asked as he laughed.
“I told Harper that I’d keep an eye on you while she’s gone. I figured that without her, you’d be missing the flirty banter, so I thought I would step in and try it out. That work for you, stud muffin?”
He smirked. “That sounds great, four eyes.”
“Four eyes?” Marcy was taken aback. “Really? That’s the best you can come up with?”
“I don’t know. I panicked.” He shook his head. “Four pretty eyes?”
“You need to practice more if you’re going to start flirting with me,” Marcy warned him.
“Okay. What did I miss?” Harper asked as she came in at the end of the conversation.
“Just the beginning of an epic love affair.” Marcy made a rawring gesture at Daniel, who managed to look both startled and amused.
“Anyway,” Harper said to Daniel, instead of addressing Marcy, “my boss will be here soon, so you should probably head out.”
“All right. Sounds good.”
“Thanks for bringing the box, though,” Harper said. “And I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Yep. I’ll be over to help you pack.”
She leaned up on her tiptoes to kiss him good-bye, and he seemed to hesitate a second before leaning down himself. Then, when he did kiss her, his lips barely even touched her before he pulled away.
It was one thing to get a quick peck on the lips, but Harper wasn’t even sure it had lasted long enough to qualify as a peck.
Daniel said good-bye to Marcy, then walked out of the library, acting as if nothing weird were going on. And maybe nothing was. Marcy was right there watching them, so maybe he didn’t want to have any PDA. Or maybe he was just upset about her leaving tomorrow and he was pulling away.
Ha
rper couldn’t say for sure what was bothering him, but by the time Daniel had disappeared down the street, she was positive that he was keeping something from her.
THIRTY
Separation
With Harper leaving tomorrow, Gemma wanted to try to show her that she and Brian would be able to handle things without her. Even without all the siren business, Gemma knew that Harper would be freaking out about leaving. So Gemma wanted to put her mind at ease as best she could.
She’d spent all day doing the chores her sister normally did. Theoretically, Gemma was supposed to share the load, but Harper usually got to them before Gemma could.
Brian arrived home from work shortly before Harper did, and he went out back to start the grill. The end of summer was approaching, and he wanted to have a cookout for their last real family meal together.
He cracked a beer open, then stood out back, flipping burgers and brats. Harper sat outside with him, talking about her plans for the future, and that gave Gemma a chance to finish up a few of the tasks she’d left undone.
All day long she’d been working on laundry. The last load was mostly her dad’s clothes, and she went into his room upstairs to put them away. Brian’s room wasn’t off-limits. He left the door open almost all the time, but Gemma hardly ever had any reason to go in there.
The curtains were drawn, so his bedroom was rather dark. The bed was made, and Gemma wasn’t surprised to see the same bedspread he’d had for the past ten years. Nathalie had bought it before her accident, and though it was getting worn and ratty, Brian had never bothered to replace it.
Gemma sat the laundry basket down on his bed and opened up the closet. Most of the clothes inside were his—the few nice shirts he had, old T-shirts, and flannel. But a couple things that belonged to her mom still hung there.
She pushed Brian’s stuff to the side so she could get a better look at Nathalie’s. The wedding dress hung in a clear plastic bag that was supposed to protect it, but the train looked yellowed. Some of the pearls in the bodice had come loose.
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