Ocean's Surrender

by Denise Townsend

  Luckily, the bowling alley was across the street from the police station, so it had only taken a minute for Sherriff White to walk over after the first concerned call from another bowler. And she was almost as pissed as Jason. At just under six foot and built like a buff, red-headed amazon, Sherriff Amanda White watched over Eastport like she was part mother-hen and part avenging fury.

  As usual, Officer Tyrone Harris, her short but powerfully built deputy, followed Sherriff White closely. Tyrone had perfected the policeman’s talent of being absolutely inscrutable, and yet somehow obviously always unimpressed. Right now Tyrone was looking at Rick with a face both devoid of expression and completely condescending, all at the same time.

  “Rick Walton. What have I told you about harassing the innocent citizens of this town?” Sherriff White asked, irritation coating every word.

  “Get this asshole off me, Sherriff, I haven’t done anything. He attacked me. He and that psycho bitch.”

  Sherriff White tutted. “I think you’ll find that Leo here is a paramedic for this county, and therefore has responsibilities to keep the peace.”

  River knew that bit about paramedics was bullshit, but appreciated Sheriff White’s take on things.

  “What’s going to happen now, Rick, is that Leo here is going to hand you over to Officer Harris. Office Harris is going to take you to my office, where we’re going to have a chat. Another chat,” Sheriff White said, sarcastically emphasizing “another”.

  She also handed River a clean, white handkerchief, which River accepted gratefully, scrubbing it against her cheek.

  White nodded at her deputy, who smoothly manhandled Rick into a firm hold before frog marching the young man towards the bowling alley doors. Rick didn’t struggle, although he did shoot River a look of such murderous fury her stomach clenched.

  But the look was also laced with despair, which was why–no matter what he did–River couldn’t hate Rick. At the end of the day, of every day, Rick’s brother was dead. She thought about what she would have done if Jason were killed, and she couldn’t help but sympathize.

  “What went wrong in that family?” Sheriff White murmured, once Rick was outside and the curious bystanders had cleared away. “Trevor was a monster. Rick’s only eighteen, and he’s well on his way to being even worse.”

  “That much money makes people weird,” Leo said. “Especially when it’s money they didn’t actually earn.”

  Now that Rick was gone and the situation was over, River felt a shudder wrack her body. She felt like a dog shaking off a sheen of dirty water. Leo saw River shake and took a step towards her, raising his hand as if to touch her.

  Leo’s hand dropped when River stepped quickly away, moving closer to Jason and putting a safe distance between them and the rest of the crowd.

  The paramedic tamped down on his disappointment.

  She still needs time, he told himself, as he had hundreds of times before.

  But even Leo was starting to wonder if River would ever break out of the shell she’d erected around herself after Trevor’s attack.

  Meanwhile, Sheriff White wasn’t done with River.

  “Will you please press charges this time?” the sheriff asked.

  River looked down at her feet, but her demeanor wasn’t one of submission. Rather, River looked like she was preparing to charge into battle, and one she’d fought a hundred times before, at that.

  “No,” River said, firmly if quietly. “He has a right to be angry.”

  Sheriff White’s face went blank and she didn’t respond immediately. Leo was pretty sure she was counting to ten, because that’s what Leo was doing himself.

  “River,” the sheriff said, eventually, in a carefully schooled voice, “that’s ridiculous. Trevor got what was coming to him. You were the victim in that situation, and now Rick is taking up where his brother left off. He does not have a right to be angry, at least not with you. And he certainly does not have the right to harass you. Don’t think I don’t know about the mail. And what was it the week before? Wasn’t it your water? And the week before, when we had all those storms. Didn’t all your gutters at the shop suddenly get stopped up with bricks?”

  River remained quiet, studying her shoes. Jason shuffled uncomfortably before patting his sister on the back like she was an unsettled horse.

  Leo ached to go to her, but he knew she’d reject his help. And it was becoming increasingly more difficult not to believe she was rejecting him, as a man.

  When River didn’t respond to her, Sheriff White shook her head.

  “How long are you going to live like this, River?” was all she asked. River still didn’t respond.

  “Fine,” the sheriff said, her voice gone brusque and businesslike. “Suit yourself. But I am keeping Rick overnight, until he cools down. I’ll let you know when he’s back out. Jason, take care, buddy. Leo, thanks for your help. River, take care of yourself.” With that, the Sheriff walked away.

  Sheriff White’s parting words to River were normal, but her inflection spoke volumes. River felt her face grow red with shame.

  Because I can’t take care of myself, River realized, growing numb with the thought.

  Suddenly unable to breathe, and desperate to get away from the prying eyes of all the people in the bowling alley, River headed towards the doors, stopping only to drop off her bowling shoes. Jason called out to her about the pizza, but his sister ignored him.

  “Go sit in our normal booth, Jase, and get the pizza when they call my name. I’ll be back in a sec,” Leo said, before heading out after River.

  He found her standing right outside the light cast from the building’s interior lights, as if she’d sought out the shadows. Her fists were clenched, and she was staring into the darkness, looking like a lost lamb.

  “River,” Leo asked, gently. “Are you okay?”

  River didn’t respond, although another long shudder wracked her body.

  “River? Honey?”

  “Don’t call me that,” she said, her voice distant. “He called me that.”

  “Oh. I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

  Silence.

  “River? What’s going on? You’re worrying me.”

  That got to her. She turned on her heel, staring him full in the face.

  “Well, you shouldn’t be worried about me, Leo. I’m not yours to worry about, and I didn’t ask for your help.”

  Leo looked like he’d been slapped, and River’s heart dropped. But whatever bile had built up inside her could no longer be contained, and it just kept pouring forth.

  “So why don’t you end this charade, huh? You can stop hanging around, stop acting like you’re taking care of me and Jason. I take care of me, and I take care of Jason, and we don’t need anybody else. Got it?”

  A dozen possible reactions coursed through Leo, but he didn’t let any of those responses through. Instead, he turned to his training.

  She’s like a wounded thing, his training recognized, even if his heart felt bruised. She’s snapping at anyone trying to help.

  So instead of losing his temper with River, or trying to hurt her back, or complaining of his own abused feelings, Leo’s voice was firm but compassionate.

  “We all need other people, River. And I’m not going to let you push me away like that. But I also know you need some time to think about what happened tonight. So I’ll finish dinner with Jason, and take him over to my place to watch a movie. I’ll drop him off after that, unless he falls asleep on the couch. Then I’ll drop him off in the morning.”

  River stared at Leo as if he were speaking Portuguese.

  “You go home, pour yourself a drink and relax. Rick’s safe in jail, and I think you should use that time to really think about what you’re going to do. Because you can’t go on like this.”

  With that, Leo walked back into the bowling alley.

  River was left standing, stunned.

  For a second, she didn’t know what to do. Part of her wanted to run after Leo
and apologize. Another part wanted to run after him and tell him to fuck off, then take Jason home with her, where he belonged. But there was a final voice that spoke in her mind, suggesting something that she found both completely crazy but utterly tempting.

  She wanted to talk to Fen.

  That third voice won, and off she headed towards her beach.

  Chapter Ten

  Fen could feel River coming a mile away. The woman’s emotional distress was so acute that Fen didn’t bother with a clothing glamour, let alone human features. Instead he shifted shape, striding from the ocean as quickly as his long legs would carry him.

  When River saw Fen coming towards her, his naked flesh golden in the moonlight, she considered heading the other way.

  What am I doing, running to this man?

  But by then she was close enough to see his face, etched with pure concern that she knew was for her. At the same time, his inhuman features actually calmed her.

  He’s not a man, she reminded herself, something which she found oddly comforting.

  Then Fen was directly in front of her, holding out his arms. With a strangled sob, River launched herself toward him.

  Embraced by his strong arms, River felt Fen’s calm, steady energy. He asked nothing from her, only held her, as she struggled to get her defenses back up.

  And when she failed, and began sobbing in his arms, Fen’s response was to pick her up and take her back to her house. He knew she needed the comfort of her own things, her own smells and her own rituals. He could also sense that Jason wasn’t home.

  River shook in Fen’s arms as he carried her, not ceasing her shivering even when he set her down on her sofa and wrapped her up in the afghan she kept folded on the chair in the corner.

  He left her only to pour them both a dram from the bottle of Laphroig he’d spotted on the island, using small plastic cups left drying on the draining board.

  When he returned, River had stopped crying. She hadn’t moved, however, except for her shivering, and she barely seemed to register when he handed her the small cup.

  “Take a sip, honey,” Fen told her.

  She looked up at him but her eyes were unseeing as fat tears formed anew.

  “Don’t call me that,” she said, and then she was sobbing as hard as she had on the beach.

  Reconsidering his original plan, Fen reclaimed her cup and set both his and hers on the coffee table before gathering River up in his arms.

  “Shhh,” he soothed, rocking her as he would a child while he made quiet, comforting noises.

  When she finally stopped sobbing, he lifted her chin so he could meet her red, swollen eyes.

  “Tell me what happened, lass.”

  And she did. It all came out in a confusing string of sentences that Fen couldn’t begin to translate.

  “Rick came to the bowling alley, and he was a dick. But then I yelled at Leo and Jason was so sad about it all, and Sheriff White obviously thinks I’m some idiot woman who can’t sort herself out to save her life. And I was so mean to Leo, and all he wants to do is help…”

  More tears dripped, as Fen tried to sort out River’s emotional tangle. Regret was the easiest thing to begin with, as River was attaching the emotion so obviously to this “Leo”.

  “Who’s Leo?” Fen asked, gently. He was determined to get to the bottom of River’s story, tonight. The woman in his arms was so close to breaking, and he knew it all sprang from some central trauma she was determined to cover up.

  “Leo found me. He saved me. And I think he loves me.”

  None of that made sense to Fen, except what River was feeling.

  “And you love him,” he told her, gently.

  “I can’t,” was her only answer, her eyes sliding from Fen’s face in misery.

  “Why not?”

  “I can’t trust him.”

  “That’s not what you’re feeling, River. You feel like you know that’s a lie.” Fen paused as River made a sound like a wounded animal.

  “I think you know you can trust him, and that you do already trust him. But you don’t want to.”

  River buried her face in her hands.

  “Let’s start from the beginning. How did Leo save you?”

  River looked up at Fen, and the selkie could feel her deciding whether or not to tell him. He could sense it was a big step for her to do so; that she hadn’t talked about what happened with anyone. Indeed, her trauma over the memories was so intense that he caught a flash, just a glimpse, of a red-headed woman in an official-looking uniform taking notes as River heard her own words coming from her mouth with emotionless specificity. Fen realized he was seeing the last time River talked about whatever happened to her.

  She’s been closed up this entire time, Fen realized. She must have told this woman, probably the police, about what happened and then bottled it up entirely to let it fester away inside of her. No wonder she’s about to collapse.

  “I told you about my parents, about how they didn’t give Jason and me a lot of stability,” River said at the same time she reached for her dram. Fen nodded, as River took a long swallow, then another, and another. When the glass was empty, River sat back on the sofa, wrapping herself up like a caterpillar in the afghan. When she spoke again her voice was throaty from the whisky.

  “Well, I made a promise to myself as a girl that I would grow up to give Jason all that my parents couldn’t. I know that sounds kinda dramatic, but it really wasn’t. Jason and I have always gotten along really well, and he’s easy to live with. I think I also needed something to focus on, when I was a kid. Our parents are good people in a lot of ways, but they weren’t great parents. They liked to party, and they liked drama.”

  “Did they abuse you?” Fen asked, rather bluntly.

  “Oh, no, nothing like that. They were just always fighting, and running away with other people. So my brother and I moved a lot, all over the country. Jason and I went to thirteen schools, total, in eighteen years.”

  “That must have been hard, for making friends and stuff.”

  “Yeah, it was. We pretty much only ever had each other. So then I turned eighteen, and I took Jason to live with my dad’s relatives, down in Louisiana.”

  “How’d that turn out?”

  “Great, actually. My dad’s Cajun, and his family is amazing. All crazy as hell, but wonderful people. We rented a little trailer out on my grandma’s land, and we had four whole years in the same place while I went to college in Lafayette, all paid for by scholarships.”

  “Why’d you leave?”

  “My dad wanted to move in with us. My mom had left him again, and this time she seemed genuinely happy with her new guy. So he turned to us. And we were staying with his family, so it’s not like we could say no. But the drama started back up immediately. He started dating an alcoholic, and she crashed his truck into a tree. My dad tried to be her white knight and claim that he was driving, so his insurance went through the roof. He lost the car, and then he lost the job he’d gotten because he couldn’t get to work. And then my mom decided she wasn’t happy, and he wanted us all to move in together, again, like Jason and I were still kids.

  “But then my uncle died, and left me some money. So I brought Jason up here. I figured it was as far as I could get from Louisiana, and it was far too cold for my parents to want to follow. But my brother loves the sea, and I fell in love with Eastport when I visited a boyfriend here.”

  “So you moved here, and started your business, and you did what you said you were going to do: you gave Jason stability.”

  “For a long time, yes. We were here about four years before everything was really secure, but then I finally figured out how to make the business work, and the house was paid for, and everything seemed golden.”

  “So what happened?”

  River sighed, looking longingly at the bottle of Laphroig still on the island. Fen went to fetch it, pouring her another small dram. She took a grateful sip before continuing.

  “Then I met T
revor Walton. I hadn’t dated much in Eastport, except for a couple of Coast Guard guys I knew were only here for a little while. Everything was so busy for a long time, and Eastport is such a small town. I knew from watching my mom and dad’s lives how relationships-gone-sour can really ruin a person’s life in a place as tiny as Eastport, where you can’t get away from your ex, and where everyone knows your business. So I didn’t want to date loads of people until I knew the lay of the land.”

  “So who is Trevor?”

  “Who was Trevor,” River answered, with a pained expression. “The Waltons are Eastport’s true swanks–rich folk from bigger cities who summer in Maine. I knew they were summer folk, but that’s all I knew. I also knew they’d been here forever, if not all year round, and that everyone knew them.

  “So when Trevor started coming in my store, I was intrigued. He and his family were only here in summers, so if a relationship didn’t work out, it wouldn’t be the end of the world. That he was handsome and charming didn’t hurt, and he was really nice to Jason.”

  “So you started dating?”

  “Eventually. He came home from graduate school to work on his thesis in January, and I finally told him I’d go out with him in February. At first it was wonderful.”

  Fen could feel River’s emotions building inside of her as she talked, a dark miasma of anger, regret and residual fear.

  “Turns out the Waltons weren’t just swanks, they were Swanks. They were incredibly wealthy, like the kind of wealthy that rides in helicopters and has live-in staff.

  “But at first Trevor seemed down to earth. He drove his own car; he’d make his own sandwiches. I marveled at how well adjusted he was, considering. Until there came the day I first told him ‘no’.”

  River took another sip of her dram before setting it down. Fen was surprised at what she did next, cuddling up next to him and resting her shoulder on his chest. He was still naked but for the sealskin draped over his shoulders, and she shared her afghan with him, letting her small hand rest on the warm skin of his hip.

  “The first time he freaked out was when he asked me to take a week off, suddenly, and go with him to Paris. He wanted to do some research for something in his thesis. But I had a store to run, and Jason to take care of, and I told him that I couldn’t just take off. Trevor flipped out. It’s like I’d told him I was sleeping with somebody else. He was screaming, beating on his steering wheel. He was like another person.”