by Kelly Risser
“I don’t know.” Sera chewed on her lip, her mind considering all the various possibilities. “It’s complicated.”
“I tell you what.” Calla leaned across the table and took Sera’s hand in hers. “You give yourself a chance at happiness. This fella… he treats you good?”
“Yes.” Boyd was so considerate. He seemed more aware of Sera than himself.
“You like him?”
“I do.”
“Get to know him then. You can do that without cheatin’, right?”
Sera felt her face heat at the suggestion. “Of course.”
Calla nodded with satisfaction, and then leaned back in her chair. “Somethin’ else is bothering you, though.”
“My children,” Sera said. “I have twelve-year-old twin boys and a six-year-old daughter. I can’t leave them.”
“You don’t know you’re going to leave them,” Calla said and paused, toying with her mug. The silence grew between them as Sera waited for her response. After a few moments, Calla quietly asked, “Is Stephen a bad father?”
“No,” Sera answered automatically. “He loves the children as much as I do.”
Calla nodded, not meeting Sera’s eyes. She stared into her mug, lost in thought. Finally, her dark eyes met Sera’s. “Then give yourself a chance at happiness. Don’t live with regrets, and don’t lose yourself in misery. Your unhappiness is not good for you or your children.”
“I never said I was unhappy…”
The bell chimed, and Calla stood. As she passed Sera to go out front, she rested her hand on Sera’s shoulder. “You didn’t have to, hon. I saw it long before you confided in me. It surrounds you like a cloak. I’m surprised others haven’t noticed. The fact that Stephen hasn’t says more than you know.” She called back over her shoulder before leaving the kitchen. “Take your time with your tea and come up front when you’re ready.”
Sera thought about what Calla said. Was her unhappiness really that noticeable? If so, why had no one said anything to her? Would her children really be okay if she left them? Why was she talking about leaving? How could she even consider it? Sure, Boyd was a handsome man who was easy to talk to and made her toes curl when he kissed her, but he still had amnesia. How could she even be sure that this was his real personality? What if his memories came back and he was happily married? What if he was really a conceited jerk? How much longer would his memories evade him? And, why had no one reported him missing? Sera had been checking the newspapers since that day she found him. There was no mention of him in any of the missing-persons reports.
With a sigh, Sera drank the last of her tea, cleaned up the dishes, and placed them by the sink. When she stepped out of the back room, she saw Stephen crossing the street to bakery. She panicked for a moment until Calla whispered. “I packed up your order. It’s ready to go.”
“Thank you.” Sera smiled at her friend with gratitude, and Calla returned the gesture. It was wonderful to have a friend, a real friend. Then she remembered. “Oh! Can you give me baking lessons once a month?”
Calla winked. “With pleasure. We’ll start next month. I’m sure we’ll have lots to talk about.”
Just as she finished, the bell chimed and Stephen walked in, his hair windblown and cheeks ruddy. “Are you ready?”
Calla placed four overflowing bags on the counter. “All set. Thank you for your business. I’ll see you next month.”
Stephen paid her, and they left. Although Sera’s arms were loaded with two heaping shopping bags, she felt considerably lighter.
Sera barely slept. Through the night, she replayed Calla’s words in her mind, alternating her friend’s advice with memories of Boyd’s kisses. Those memories caused a slow burn to course through her body, heating her veins. She planned to find him in the morning, to explain herself and hear what he had to say. She had no idea how she would prevent herself from diving into his arms. It would be a testament of will to be sure.
Stephen didn’t even stir when she rose at the first light of day. She didn’t bother changing, just grabbed the refilled pack and transported once she was outside. A light breeze blew her hair and lifted her thin nightgown. Gooseflesh broke out across her arms, and she visualized a warmer outfit of a blouse and long skirt.
“Neat trick.”
Boyd’s deep voice spoke from behind her, making her jump. She turned, her hand raised to cover her racing heart. “You scared me.”
“How did you do that?” He nodded at her clothes. “Are you a witch?”
“No,” Sera said. Boyd stood half in the shadows. The part of his face she could see looked tired and apprehensive. Was he afraid of her?
“What are you?”
She couldn’t tell from his voice how he was feeling, and without being able to see his face, she felt blind. What choice was there but to answer honestly? She wouldn’t disclose her home. The only one at risk would be her, and he was trapped on this island. Who would he tell?
Decision made, she lifted her chin. “I’m a Selkie.”
“Selkie.” He repeated the term as though mulling it over. “Nope. Never heard of it. What’s a Selkie?”
“This.” The air shimmered, and the world shifted as she changed forms. From her seal point of view, Boyd seemed impossibly tall. Animal instincts warned her he was dangerous. She fought them with the part of her consciousness that knew he was human and trusted him.
When she transformed, he staggered back into a tree, sinking down along its trunk until he was almost eye level with her. After gaping for a moment like a fish out of water, he finally managed to whisper her name.
“Sera?”
She nodded and barked. He rose to his knees, his hand slightly outstretched. “May I?” After she nodded her approval, he inched toward her. When he was close enough, he reached out and touched her head. “You’re very soft.”
A sound like a snort escaped her. His hand felt warm and soothing. In this form, his closeness was safe. If only she could speak to him this way, she wouldn’t have to change back. His hand moved from her head to her back. She closed her eyes and relaxed. Her mother used to stroke her back like this when, as a little girl, she had trouble sleeping. She missed her mama. Their once-a-year visits were never enough.
“Can you change back?” he asked and stilled his hand.
Without answering him, she let the transformation happen and heard his gasp as the fur beneath his hand changed to human skin and then cotton when she quickly visualized a blouse.
“That’s amazing!” His eyes glowed with his excitement. “What else can you do?”
Feeling shy, Sera bent her legs and wrapped her arms around them, resting her chin on her knees. She turned her head to look at him, and his open expression was encouraging. “I can swim fast, of course, and I can transport between locations. That’s what happened when I disappeared the last time I saw you. I went home.”
Boyd snapped his fingers. “Like that?”
“Like that.”
“Wow.” Shaking his head, he leaned back on his arms and relaxed next to her. “Is that why you stayed away?”
“No.”
She could feel him watching her as she stared out at the water. Now was the moment to tell him everything. Could she admit her feelings as easily as she revealed her nature?
“Will you tell me why?” he asked, lowering his head to meet her eyes. He was so close. His full lips slightly upturned. He smelled like sea air and male. The combination was intoxicating.
“I was confused,” she said. “And scared.”
“Of me?” His voice rose in surprise. “The man who had amnesia?”
“Of my feelings,” she corrected, but then she caught his words and their meaning. “Had? As in, you have your memories back?”
He smiled, and it made him look younger, boyish even. “A few of them came back a few days ago,” he said. “I wanted to tell you, but I couldn’t find you.”
She laughed, happy for him, and reached for his hand. “Tell me about
yourself!”
When she touched his skin, warmth spread up her arm and her pulse raced. She felt her cheeks flame with heat. The way her body reacted to him was unsettling. She almost pulled her hand away, but then he looked down at their joined hands and squeezed hers.
“To start, Boyd is my last name,” he said. “Although, I like the sound of it on your lips.” He lifted his free hand and touched her mouth lightly. If anything, her face grew hotter, but she didn’t turn away. His lips curved as though he knew how she reacted to his touch. “My name is Daniel Peter Boyd. My friends call me Dan.”
“My son’s middle name is Peter,” Sera said automatically. Noticing how Boyd’s eyes widened in surprise, she swore to herself. It wasn’t that she wanted to hide her children exactly, but she didn’t feel right talking about them.
“You have a son?” He sounded as surprised as he looked.
“I have two sons, Kieran and Alexios,” she said. “And one daughter, Tyrese.”
“Three kids?” His voice rose drastically. He cleared his throat and continued. “How old are they?”
“The boys are twins. They’re twelve. Tyrese is six.”
His stare was incredulous. “Were you twelve when you had them?”
She laughed, but he didn’t join her. In fact, his face was serious. Scoffing, she said, “Of course not. Why would you think that?”
He lifted her chin with his finger and studied her face. “You look like you’re barely in your twenties. You certainly don’t look old enough to have preteen sons.”
“I am more than old enough,” she assured him. “Selkies age differently. How old are you?”
“Thirty-four, almost thirty-five. Hell, maybe I am thirty-five. I have no idea what month it is. My birthday is June 30.”
She felt his frustration and tried to remember what the date was on Stephen’s newspaper yesterday morning. Most Selkies rarely paid attention to such things. She certainly didn’t. “I wish I could tell you, but I don’t know what day it is. I’ll check the newspaper tomorrow and let you know the date.”
His eyes lit up. “You have access to a paper? Can you bring me one?”
“I’ll bring you an older one. Stephen will notice if I take the most recent copy.”
“Stephen is—” He made a face. “Your husband, right?”
“My mate,” she corrected.
He laughed. “That’s not really better. It was terrible of me to kiss you, knowing you were in a relationship. I certainly didn’t know you were a mother. My apologies for being selfish and thinking you were my own personal angel.”
She was no angel, but she liked hearing him call her that. He had dropped her hand and put distance between them. She didn’t like it. As wrong as it was to want his arms around her, she did.
He scratched the hair on his cheek and managed to look sheepish. “I know it’s not proper to ask a woman her age, but now you’ve made me curious. How old are you?”
“We don’t age as humans do, and we don’t track years the way you do either.” She paused and considered. “I would approximate my age in human years to be ninety or so.”
His mouth fell open.
“Selkies live approximately seven times longer than humans.” Boyd’s eyes started to bug out of his head. In a rush, she added, “That’s just a guess, though. No one has really compared our species to yours.”
He remained silent, studying her face.
He looked a little pale, possibly even a little green. “Boyd? Are you okay?” Boyd. Dan. She couldn’t think of him as Dan. To her, he was Boyd.
Finally, he laughed and ran his hands through his hair, leaving strands standing on end. It was getting rather long and unruly. He was growing an impressive beard, too. Next time she came, she’d bring one of Stephen’s razors. Maybe some scissors, too. She would offer to cut it for him, but she’d never cut hair before. She might do a horrible job.
“Yeah,” he said. “I think I’ve recovered. That was a lot to take in. Not only do other creatures exist—” He glanced at her. “No offense.”
“None taken.”
“But to find out your race is also superior with the ability to do magic and live longer…”
“Not superior,” she corrected when he paused. “Different. I was always told humans were violent and irrational creatures—”
“Now I should be offended,” he interrupted, but his tone was lighthearted.
“I’m not finished,” she scolded, and then continued. “But you are a kind person, and you seem very gentle—” He snorted, and she raised her eyebrow. “—and mostly rational.”
This time, he grinned. “Thank you. I think.”
The sun was growing hot. Sera knew she was overstaying her time, but she wanted to know more about him, especially now that he had his memories. “You have told me nothing about you yet,” she complained. “All we’ve been talking about is me. What have you remembered besides your name? Do you know where you’re from?”
He leaned close, his eyes dancing with mischief. “I prefer to talk about you and learn as much as I can about my beautiful, mysterious rescuer. But to answer your questions, I’m not really sure what I know and what I don’t. I think I’m recovered until I try to think about something, like where I live, and I come upon that fuc—I mean, frustrating—brick wall again.”
Her heart fell. “So you don’t know where you’re from?”
“No. I picture blue siding and a small, green yard, but that could describe a house anywhere. I don’t know the city or the street.”
“Do you know how you ended up in the ocean?” she asked, letting the house comment slide. Knowing little about human dwellings, she wouldn’t be of much help to stir his memory.
“I remember a group of people, women and men about my age. I imagine we were friends. There’s a large sailboat, and drinking was involved. The water grew choppy when a storm moved in. There was lightning, and then—” He stopped and shrugged his shoulders. “Nothing. Everything else is black.”
“Perhaps you hit your head?”
“It’s possible,” he said. “A concussion would explain the memory loss.”
“Anything else?” she asked.
He shook his head. “Little bits and pieces of trivial information. I had a dog. I can see him in my mind, some kind of longhaired, friendly mutt, but I’ve forgotten his name. Hopefully, someone who knows I’m missing took him in.” He picked at the hem of his shirt. “I can’t remember what kind of job I had, what I did for fun, or even what my favorite foods are.”
She covered his nervous hand with her own. “It’ll come. Give it time.”
Turning his hand over, he threaded his fingers through hers, moving his thumb in a slow, circular motion on her palm. She knew it was meant to comfort them both, but it had the opposite effect on her. She wanted him to stop and continue at the same time. “It’s not fair of me to monopolize your time and keep you from your family.”
“I don’t mind,” she said. More than you know.
“Your family would, though.” He lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed the back of it lightly. “Go home, Sera. You’ve stayed longer than usual.”
Her throat closed painfully. He was so beautiful and so close, and yet, so very, very far away. She needed to heed his words and leave. She attempted a weak smile. “Eat your food. There’s a change of clothes, too. Tomorrow, I’ll bring you a razor.”
“Thank you.”
“Do you need anything else?” she asked, a part of her hoping that he’d say ‘you’.
Instead, he said, “No. You’ve thought of everything.”
If you only knew, she thought.
He was the first to break contact, letting go of her hand to pat her arm in a friendly way. “See you tomorrow then.”
She nodded, not trusting herself to speak or even look at him. Without bothering to stand, she transported home.
****
Sera realized the moment she arrived home; she just didn’t care. Like a small c
hild throwing a tantrum, she flung herself forward on the sand and cried. The sobs wracked her body, draining the tension but leaving her feeling uncertain and so alone.
She flipped onto her back and stared up at the fluffy, white clouds. It was a beautiful day, not too hot, not too cool. The slight breeze dried her tears, but left salt on her cheeks. When she felt the energy to move, she transformed into her seal form and scooted across the sand, sliding into the water.
The ocean embraced her. It understood her swirling moods. It was, after all, one of the moodiest elements. She sped down into its dark depths, concentrating on speed and trying to clear her mind. Why did she ever rescue Boyd? Why did he have to be so nice? It wasn’t even his looks that drew her to him, although they didn’t hurt. He was kind and considerate. He didn’t talk about himself—he asked about her. No one really cared about her before.
To be fair, she never asked for anything from Stephen besides her children. She hadn’t given him a chance to tell her how he felt, to show her. Before she made any rash decisions, it was time they had a heart-to-heart talk.
Feeling more relaxed and in control, she swam home. The shore was still deserted when she reached it, which was unusual for this time of day. It was at least mid-morning, if not later. As she visualized clothes and dried her hair, she heard voices nearby. One was the sweet, light voice of Tyrese. The other was deep and masculine. Sera followed them, walking softly so she wouldn’t be heard.
Spying around a boulder, she saw Stephen training with their daughter. Tyrese drew her eyebrows together and pursed her lips in concentration. Stephen’s voice was calm and patient. Guiding Tyrese through a series of blocks, he gently corrected her moves when they were wrong and praised her when she got it right. He was excellent with her.
Sera settled in the shadows where they wouldn’t notice her and watched them practice. She lost track of time—minutes could have passed or hours. Eventually, Stephen told Tyrese it was time for lunch, and the two of them walked toward the castle, hand in hand. Sera transported ahead so she could wash up and meet them in the dining room. As confused as Sera was, Stephen just offered her a real gift. He truly was a wonderful father, and Tyrese would flourish under his tutelage.