Surface

by Jody Morse

  After we checked in, Gram sat in the waiting room, and I was led by a nurse (or someone in pink scrubs) to the visitation room.

  “Your mother will be with you in just a moment,” the nurse told me before closing the door behind her.

  I glanced around at the drab gray walls, trying not to recount the number of conversations my mother and grandmother had had in this very room that involved Scarlett. She hadn’t joined me today because the doctors thought it would be easier for my mother to only see one person at a time.

  When the door clicked open, I saw my mom coming towards me, her eyes locked on mine the whole time. Her once-blonde hair was now beginning to gray, and there were dark circles under her eyes. She didn’t look a whole lot different from the last time I’d seen her, the day she’d kicked me out of the house.

  “Felicia,” Mom said. Her eyes were glued to my face, studying it as she sat down in the chair across from me.

  I nodded, unsure of what else to say.

  “How—how are you?” she stumbled over her words.

  I shrugged. “I’m fine, I guess. How are you? The doctors say you’re getting better.”

  My mother nodded. “They have me on this new medicine. It seems to be working really well. At least, that’s what they tell me. I’m not sure how I feel yet.”

  “Oh.” I looked down at the palms of my hands, which I knew were covered in nervous sweat. I wasn’t sure what to talk about. I wanted to tell her that she had been right all along, that Scarlett hadn’t actually drowned. But I knew I couldn’t do that, so instead, I chose to remain silent for a few moments.

  “I do miss you, Felicia,” Mom said quietly. When I glanced up at her, there was a sad look in her eyes. “You might not believe me, but I do.”

  “I miss you, too,” I replied, mostly because it seemed like the most polite thing to say. What else was I supposed to tell her? That I didn’t miss her? That would just crush her if she really did, in fact, miss me.

  Mom ran a finger through her hair awkwardly, revealing her nails, which were jagged at the edges, telling me that she had bitten them off. A memory of Scarlett painting our mother’s nails a shade of sparkly pink flashed through my mind, and I tried to shake it away. “What are you doing for the summer?” Mom asked.

  “I’m a Junior Lifeguard,” I replied. “I don’t know if Gram’s told you about that. It’s been really good for me—therapeutic almost.” Immediately after I had said the word lifeguard, I wished I could take it back.

  My mother narrowed her eyes at me, and anger flashed through them. “Why would they hire you for that? You couldn’t even stop your own sister from drowning.”

  “Mom, it’s not my fault,” I began to say, but immediately, she interrupted me, throwing her hands up in the air.

  “I’m sorry,” my mother whispered. “I’m so sorry. What is wrong with me?” She smiled. “How is Scarlett doing? Why hasn’t she visited me lately?”

  “What do you mean by lately?” I asked, my eyebrows raised. I had always assumed that my mom believed that Scarlett was alive just because she was in denial, but could there be more to it? Had Scarlett actually visited our mother?

  She played with the patient wristband that hung loosely around her wrist. “Scarlett’s a good girl. She’s a good daughter. Felicia is a murderer,” she said frantically. She looked up at me again. “Oh, Felicia,” she said as though she had just realized, for the first time, that I was sitting across the table from her. “Where is Scarlett?”

  My eyes flooded with tears, and I ran from the room, into the waiting room, and into Gram’s arms.

  *

  “So, she didn’t even remember you?” Jackson asked me. I had called him almost as soon as I’d gotten home, asking him to hang out. He’d shown up at Gram’s house ten minutes later, and we went to The Cove to grab a bite to eat.

  Nibbling on one of my French fries, I shook my head. “Nope. She did at first, but then it was like . . . I wasn’t even there. She didn’t want to see me. All she wanted was to see Scarlett.”

  “Your sister who died,” Jackson recalled.

  I nodded my head. “The nurse called Gram and told her that something I said—something about me being a lifeguard—must have triggered the memory of my sister’s death.” I shrugged. “I don’t think I’ll go back there.”

  “That must have been really hard for you,” Jackson commented, meeting my gaze. I stared into his blue eyes; for some reason, they had a calming effect on me.

  “It wasn’t easy,” I whispered. “But it is what it is, I guess. I’ve known for a long time that I don’t have a mother.”

  Jackson gave me a sympathetic look before saying, “I hope you don’t hold it against her, Felicia.”

  “It’s hard not to.”

  “I can’t even begin to imagine,” Jackson said softly. “But it’s not her fault. She just can’t handle what she’s been through. We all cope with tragedy in different ways. It doesn’t mean she’s not your mother—it just means she’s not emotionally equipped to be.”

  I sighed, knowing he was right. As much as I wanted to be angry with my mother, I couldn’t be. At least, I shouldn’t be. “Anyway, enough about me,” I said in between bites of my turkey club sandwich. “What’s new with you?”

  “Same old.” Jackson hesitated. “Well, actually, there is something. Would you like to come to my family’s barbeque tomorrow around four? Nora said she already has you covered by another lifeguard for the day, so you’re available.”

  I stared at him wide eyed. “Why would she do that?”

  He shrugged. “I guess she just really wants you there.”

  “Sure, I’ll go,” I replied, even though I wished Nora would have asked me first before giving me the day off. Now, I just felt obligated to go—and that made me nervous.

  “Awesome. I can’t wait for you to meet my family,” Jackson commented as he took a bite of his burger. “And they’re pretty excited to meet you, too.”

  He had talked about me to his other sisters? That could only mean one thing.

  Jackson had to be falling for me.

  *

  It was getting dark out, and Scarlett was standing in the front driveway watering the flowers when I walked up the driveway. “Hey, Felly!” she called when she noticed me coming towards her. “What’s up? I didn’t know you were coming over, but I’m glad you’re here. We have wedding plans to figure out.”

  “How do you know if a guy is really falling for you, or if he’s just attracted to you because you’re a siren?” I asked, ignoring everything that she had just said. It was the entire reason I came to see her after I finished having dinner with Jackson; I needed answers.

  Scarlett sighed. “As far as I know, there’s no way to tell the difference. You sort of have to just trust your instincts. But, if Tyler was interested in you before you became a siren, I’m sure he still is,” she offered.

  “It’s not Tyler,” I replied. “It’s this other guy—Jackson. I think he likes me, but . . . I can’t tell if he really likes me, or if he’s just attracted to me.”

  “Have you tried asking him?” Scarlett asked.

  “What do you mean? I can’t ask him if he only likes me because I’m a siren!” I laughed out loud at her.

  Scarlett rolled her eyes at me. “No, obviously, you can’t do that. I mean, have you asked what he likes about you? If he says he thinks you’re hot or something, it’s probably just because you’re a siren. If he says something about your personality, he might actually be interested in you—you as a person, not as a siren, that is.”

  “That makes sense,” I replied, realizing that Scarlett had given me good advice. “Do you date a lot?”

  “Me?” Scarlett laughed at me. “No. Angelica told me recently that she thinks I’m ready to date, but I just don’t have any interest in dating.”

  “Why not?” I asked. “I thought you said you guys try to live like humans as much as you can. Dating is a part of that.”

  �
��I meant in terms of technology and entertainment and things like that,” Scarlett replied. “Dating just isn’t fair to either of us. I don’t want to fall in love with someone who I’ll eventually lose. And I’d probably have to break up with him when he gets older, anyway.”

  “Yeah about that,” I began. “What does Angelica plan on doing once George gets older?”

  Scarlett shrugged. “She says she’ll make herself look older with makeup and stuff. If you want my opinion, though, I don’t think their marriage will last.”

  “Why wouldn’t it last?” For some reason, I was surprised to find out that Scarlett felt that way. She had seemed so excited for Angelica and George when they’d gotten engaged. Was it just an act?

  “Angelica isn’t always the easiest person to get along with. I think George will get sick of her mood swings, eventually,” Scarlett replied with a shrug. “I could be wrong, though. I guess she’ll have to deal with that when it happens.”

  I nodded, remembering what our mother had said earlier today. “Um, Scar, I have a question. Did you ever visit Mom? At the mental health facility?”

  “Why? Did she say I did?” Scarlett asked me defensively.

  I nodded. “Yeah, she said something that made me wonder if you did.”

  Scarlett sighed. “I didn’t exactly visit her.” She paused, walking over to the front porch and sitting down on one of the steps. “It was recent, actually. After you told me that she was in a mental home, I wanted to see her. I’d just seen you, and I knew what you were like in person now—instead of just looking at pictures of you on Facebook. I wanted to know how Mom had changed, so a few days ago, I went to the mental home.”

  She glanced over at me, a sad look in her green eyes. “I was planning on visiting her. I was going to go inside and tell the staff who I was and explain that I wanted to see my mother. But I knew it would get back to Gram, and it probably wouldn’t have helped things. When I got there, though, I didn’t have to make a decision. Mom was outside eating lunch at a picnic table with some of the other patients. She saw me, and she started crying and screaming.” Scarlett gulped. “The nurses reassured her that it wasn’t her daughter walking by—that it wasn’t me,” her voice broke. “You have no idea how much it hurt to just walk past her, acting like I didn’t know her at all.”

  “I’m sorry, Scar,” I replied, realizing, for the first time, how hard this had all been on her. I pulled her into a tight embrace, and I felt her tears hitting against my skin and dampening my shirt.

  “Felicia! I didn’t know that we should be expecting you tonight,” Angelica’s voice came from behind me, and I let go of Scarlett.

  “I just dropped by to see Scarlett,” I replied. “I hope that’s okay.”

  “Of course it is! You’re always welcome here.” Angelica strode over to us, her heels clacking against the black pavement. “I’m actually a little relieved that you’re here because I was going to call to invite you. I need to ask you something.”

  “What do you need to ask me?” I felt a nervous knot twist in my stomach as I wondered what she was going to ask me about.

  “Will you be one of my bridesmaids?” Angelica asked. When I didn’t say anything right away, she went on to say, “I know that you haven’t known me for long, but we are going to have a special connection with one another for the rest of eternity. It would make me feel so honored if you would be in my wedding.”

  I wanted to tell her ‘no’, but I knew that would be the wrong answer if I wanted to keep Angelica on my good side. “What color are the bridesmaid dresses?” I joked.

  “I chose a shade of turquoise, which will look just lovely with your skin tone,” she replied. “So, can I take that as a yes?”

  I nodded. “Sure, I’d love to,” I lied.

  “Fantastic. I cannot wait,” Angelica replied. As usual, her voice lacked all emotion; it sounded like she was going through the motions of acting like she was excited, without actually sounding like she was genuinely excited. It was the strangest thing—and completely uncharacteristic of someone who was getting married for what I assumed was the first time.

  “When’s the wedding?” I asked. If I was going to have to be in this wedding, I might as well prepare myself for it.

  “I thought you’d never ask!” Angelica’s lips twisted into a tight smile. “We decided that we don’t want to waste any more time. We’ll be holding our nuptials here in one week from today.”

  Chapter 26

  The Davis family owned a three-story contemporary house that sat directly on the beach. It was mostly fashioned out of glass windows, but the architecture was unlike anything I’d ever seen before. The size also surprised me; it wasn’t much smaller than Angelica’s house. I supposed that with six kids, the family had to have a somewhat larger house than most families did—but this was pretty exquisite.

  When I knocked on the front door, no one answered. I realized that Jackson and his family were probably in the backyard already.

  The scent of barbeque chicken and smoke from the grill filled my nostrils as I walked around the house and into the backyard, where I found more people than I’d been expecting. Jackson told me that they were having a ‘family barbeque’ which I’d taken as a small gathering; this was more like a large reunion.

  “Felicia, I’m so glad you could make it!” I turned to find that Nora was waving at me, and it surprised me that she was the first one who had noticed me. She looked much more casual today than the first time I’d met her. Her dark hair was pulled into a bun, and she was wearing a pair of denim shorts with a white bandeau top that revealed her toned shoulders.

  “Let me introduce you to everyone,” Nora said, grabbing me by the arm.

  As we approached a girl with curly blonde hair and a surfer tan (in fact, I was pretty sure I had seen this very girl riding the waves during one of my shifts the other day), Nora said, “This is Carson.”

  I was shocked that this girl was one of their sisters. Aside from the tan, she looked nothing like Jackson or Nora.

  “Hi, Felicia,” Carson beamed at me. “It’s so nice to meet you.” I noticed that Carson’s Southern accent was more pronounced than Jackson and Nora’s were. I wondered why.

  “It’s nice to meet you, too,” I replied politely.

  “Jackson told me that you like Dave Matthews Band,” Carson said, and I recalled mentioning that I liked them when he had walked me home the other night. “I have concert tickets for September. Maybe you’d like to come with?”

  “Um, sure,” I replied, trying not to think about how awkward it was that Carson would invite me to a concert without even really knowing me yet. It was even more peculiar that Jackson had talked about me to her. I’d thought it was strange enough that Nora had given me the day off, but at least she had already met me.

  “I’m coming, too,” another girl said, strolling over to us. “It will be lots of fun. Hi, I’m Kiersten.”

  “Kiersten is another one of our sisters,” Nora explained, and I nodded. I wasn’t about to tell her that I actually remembered all of Jackson’s sisters’ names.

  Kiersten looked nothing like Jackson and Nora and nothing like Carson, either. Her skin was a warm shade that gave her cheeks a natural blush, and her hair was a shade of mousy brown. She wore black capris and a dressy tank top; she looked more professional than both Nora and Carson (who was sporting a pair of overalls and a tube top).

  “Jackson is in the house with Abby,” Nora explained. “He should be out in a minute. Why don’t you grab something to eat?”

  I was tempted to say that the smell of the food was actually beginning to make me feel sick to my stomach, but I didn’t want to be rude. So, instead, I nodded and grabbed a plastic plate and began filling it up with deviled eggs and potato salad from bowls that had been laid out on a picnic table.

  The back door swung open and Jackson came outside with a girl with hair that had been dyed mahogany, who I assumed to be Abby. When he saw me, his face lit up, and he w
alked over to me. “Hey, Chair Thirteen.”

  “I wish you would stop calling me that,” I said with a smile. “Thirteen is an unlucky number, you know.”

  “Nonsense.” Jackson shook his head. “Thirteen is the luckiest number there is.”

  “Oh, and why is that?” I giggled.

  “Well, I was born on the thirteenth,” Jackson replied. “Friday the thirteenth, to be exact. Some might think that’s an unlucky birthday, but I don’t feel unlucky right now.” When he met my eyes, I felt the butterflies swarm around my stomach again. I knew he was flirting with me, and it made me happy.

  I was trying to figure out what to say without sounding too lame when a mahogany-haired girl strolled over to me. “You’re Felicia?” she asked.

  I nodded. “And you must be Abby. It’s nice to meet you.”

  “You, too,” she replied curtly before turning around and scampering over to her sisters, who were all standing in a circle talking to each other. Abby leaned in and whispered something to Nora. All four sisters looked up at me, and even though I turned away from them so they wouldn’t think I was staring, I could feel eight eyes on me.

  “Well, that’s not awkward,” I said quietly to Jackson.

  “Don’t worry about it. I’m pretty sure my sisters like you,” Jackson said.

  “It doesn’t seem like it,” I replied, glancing back over at them. When they noticed that I was looking in their direction, they all looked away from me and went back to whispering to each other. I felt nervous that I was most likely the topic of the conversation right now; what could they possibly be saying about me?

  “Trust me,” Jackson replied, grabbing my hand. “If they didn’t like you, they’d already be trying to make you leave by now. I feel pretty positive about this.”

  I felt my eyes widen. I know he’d said his sisters were intimidating, but I hadn’t expected them to be that mean—then again, they were talking about me, and if Jackson was right, they didn’t even dislike me. I felt relieved—although I wasn’t entirely convinced that he was right.