I take a huge bite of the pastry and wash it down with a swig of coffee before answering. “You're forgetting, Father, that I don't care about money. Victoria is a nice girl, but Oceania is really special.”
“Oceania,” Mother repeats, spreading a nearly translucent layer of jam over her croissant and taking a miniscule bite. “She sounds special. What a beautiful name. It’s so harmonious, like a symphony of letters. Fairly magical, too.”
Father grumbles something unintelligible under his breath before he says in a louder voice, “Beautiful name or not, I want to know who this Oceania is, and where she’s from. You say you met her on the beach, but who is her family? What kind of girl goes for a walk at midnight with a boy she barely knows—un-chaperoned?”
“You'll find these things out in time, Father. In the meantime, can't I at least bring her home to meet you?”
“Absolutely not." He pounds the table with his fist for emphasis. I jump, and Mother squeals in surprise as droplets of coffee fly out of our cups and splatter on the lacy white tablecloth.
“How do I know whether this Oceania is to be trusted, anyway?" Father continues. “She could be a common thief for all we know, fascinated with meeting a millionaire's son. I can't chance having her in this house.”
Mother, who has now recovered from her startled state, glances at Father, her hands clasped. “Oh, Robert. How can you say such a thing? Why would our son be associating with a common thief? And even if she were one, she certainly wouldn't dare to steal anything with you right here in the house. You’re quite an imposing figure, you know.”
Father pouts, but I can see that his eyes have softened. “Flattery will get you nowhere, Arabella.”
But my mother and I both know better; he's never been able to resist her. She flutters over to his side, placing her slender white hand on his shoulder. "Please, Robert. What's the harm in inviting the girl into our home, just this once?"
Father glances at her, and then at me. I occupy myself drinking coffee, while secretly praying that he will relent.
Finally, he shrugs, an unusual gesture coming from such a hulking man. His entire girth seems to undulate, like an enormous old oak blowing in a strong gust of wind.
“Fine. She can come over once, to meet us. But if I don't approve of her, she's not to come back again, and you're to resume courting Victoria, young man. As it is, I want you to apologize to her today, and you're not to say a word about this Oceania. You can tell Victoria that you got sick, or you needed some time alone, or whatever you want, but no mention of your ocean girl.”
I nod, only half surprised that Father relented. If Mother hadn't been present, I'm sure he would've put up more of a fight. “Thank you, Father. So, I was planning to meet with Oceania after luncheon today. Is it okay if I bring her home then?”
“Yes, by all means,” he replies. “The sooner I meet this little ragamuffin, the sooner we can get you back on track to marrying the right girl.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine: Oceania
My parents don't say anything when I swim toward the surface later that day. On one hand, I'm glad that I don't have to sneak around, but on the other, their seemingly careless dismissal of me stings like a jellyfish bite.
This time of my life is just going to be a confusing one, and I'll have to be prepared for that. But at least I only have a few minutes until I can see Xavier.
I burst through the surface of the water into full-blown daylight. I'm almost blinded by the happy yellow sunbeams that dance off the tops of the waves. Shielding my eyes against the brilliant glare, I hone in on the rocks of Point Joe, and spot two figures on the rounded boulder, Xavier and...a girl.
I suck in my breath, and for a fleeting moment I wonder whether he's brought Victoria with him. But I know in my heart that this couldn't even be a possibility. As I paddle closer and my eyes finally adjust to the brightness of the sun, I realize that the girl is his sister, Amelie, sitting under a lacy parasol and waving at me.
I flop onto the rock next to them, and Amelie shrieks with delight at the fine mist of sea-spray that shoots up on her from the waves. "Hi, Oceania," she says, staring at my tail. "I can't believe what I'm seeing." She reaches toward it, her face holding an expression of half-curiosity and half-repulsion. "Can I touch it?"
Xavier rolls his eyes. "Amelie. She's not an animal in the zoo.”
But I just smile at her, liking her enthusiasm and interest, even though I don’t much appreciate the way her lip had curled upward in disgust. I suppose that a mermaid’s tail would seem a bit strange and revolting to a human. "It's okay. You can touch it if you want.”
Amelie strokes her hand along my scales, exclaiming, "By Jove! You feel like a fish."
I laugh a little, but my real attention is on her brother.
Right now, Xavier is even handsomer than he'd appeared under the stars or the rising sun. His skin is a shining golden bronze, and I can see the slightest glints of auburn in his nearly black hair. He throws his arms around me, while Amelie finally tears her hand away from my tail and averts her gaze.
"You made it," he says, kissing me. We look into each other’s eyes, and for a fleeting instant, we are the only two people in the universe.
A moment later, however, Xavier glances around at the clusters of fishermen peppering the shore, and the liberal sprinkling of tourists on the beach. Although none of them look at us, I can tell from Xavier's furtive glances that he interprets them as a kind of danger.
"We're going to have to be kind of secretive about this," he says softly. "I don't want anyone seeing your tail. If they do, they're likely to capture you and sign you up for a traveling circus.”
"What's that?" I ask, my eyes darting nervously toward the people. I hadn't thought about the implications of coming to the surface—and undergoing my transformation from mermaid to human—in broad daylight. And although I’ve never heard of a circus, the idea of being captured is frightening. I already feel trapped enough by the curse that hangs over my family like a dark cloud.
"Don't scare her," Amelie says. She holds up a brown leather bag and adds, "The circus is a fun event to watch, but you definitely wouldn’t want to perform in it; I’ll leave it at that. Luckily, I have just what you need to fit in here."
With a flourish, Amelie pulls out a towel and hands it to Xavier, who rubs it over my tail. He doesn’t have to work very hard; my tail dries to legs almost instantly in the warm sunshine.
Amelie gasps, her eyes riveted to my lower half. "That was incredible."
"Thanks," I say, giggling, but Xavier suddenly clears his throat, holding the towel up around me to obscure my view of the fishermen and tourists—and theirs of me.
"Let's hurry. Some tourists are coming this way," he says brusquely. To Amelie, he adds, "Come on. Help her change."
Amelie nods, and behind the towel, she assists me as I wriggle out of my seaweed and seashell coverings and into a corset and another dress, this one a dazzling sky blue. She twists my hair onto my head, sticking pins into it before she adds a heavy hat over top. Finally, she says, "All ready."
Xavier pulls away the towel, and his eyes light up at the sight of me. "You look so beautiful," he says, kissing me under the wide brim of the hat. "Are you ready to go?"
"Yes," I say, smiling. Xavier takes my hand and I walk barefoot down the beach next to him, with Amelie trailing behind. As my long, romantic skirt billows in the breeze, I feel as though I blend in with the women on the beach, some of whom wear similar dresses, while others are dressed in shorter bathing costumes.
We all walk in silence for a minute or two, until Xavier asks, "So, were your parents terribly angry?"
I nod, wishing I could forget the unpleasant confrontation. "They were, until I told them that I'm an adult and I have the right to come and go as I please.”
Xavier smiles. "You stood up to them. I'm proud of you, and I'm glad that you didn't lie. I was honest with my parents, too, and I really think it made everything go more smoothly.
I basically told them everything about you, except for the fact that you're a mermaid, of course. And now, you'll get to meet everyone."
When we reach the long walkway of Xavier's house, Amelie reaches into the bag for one last thing. I groan when she pulls out a pair of those atrocious high-heeled shoes.
"Sorry, Oceania," she says, helping me to slip into them. "I know you aren't used to wearing shoes, but you have to admit, these are lovely, aren't they? They're the latest fashion.”
"I suppose so." Fashionable or not, I can't get past the fact that they're cutting off all circulation to my toes. Between the confining corsets and the nightmarish shoes, I have no idea how these women function every day. I suppose that, if I choose land, this is something I will have to consider, although it seems trivial compared to the more serious factors like leaving my family and losing my immortality.
I draw in a deep breath as we saunter toward the front doors of Xavier’s house. During the day, it looks even more grandiose and terrifying than it does at night, with its glittering windows and bronze-topped towers. It's larger than King Triteus’s palace, and prettier, too.
I freeze when we reach the doors. I'd thought I wanted to meet everyone, but now I’m frightened to death. Xavier and Amelie are nice people, but what might their parents be like?
Chapter Thirty: Xavier
All color drains from Oceania’s face as we walk, hand-in-hand, through the doors of the house. I give her a smile that I hope seems reassuring, but her delicate hand quivers in mine.
“It’s okay,” I say. “Don’t be nervous; I won’t leave your side.”
Oceania smiles, her lips wavering, and makes a tremulous sound that remotely resembles the word, “Okay.”
Amelie giggles, patting Oceania on the shoulder. “Come on, Oceania. Our parents aren’t that bad.”
With one last squeeze of Oceania’s hand, I hook my arm through hers, and Amelie does the same on the other side. Together, we half-walk, half-drag the reluctant mermaid into the parlor.
Father is seated in his deep leather chair, reading one of those dry, dull business magazines he’s always forcing upon me, while Mother lounges luxuriously across her red velvet fainting couch, humming under her breath as she reads one of her penny romances. Both parents look up from their reading material to stare at Oceania.
Mother floats to her feet, extending a hand to Oceania. “Hello, dear,” she says. “You must be Miss Oceania. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I am Mrs. Arabella Rose.”
I’m thankful that I taught Oceania a bit about our social graces, for she shakes my mother’s hand as though she was brought up behaving this way.
Father heaves himself out of his seat, thrusts out his meaty hand, and says gruffly, “Mr. Robert Rose. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”
Oceania treats both parents to a charming smile. “The pleasure is all mine,” she says in a mellifluous voice, sounding every inch the well-bred lady. “You have a lovely house.”
“Thank you,” Father grunts, eyeing her skeptically, as though he expects her to pocket a trinket or a piece of fine china at any moment. He gestures to the couch. “Please, sit down.”
Amelie, Oceania, and I plop down side-by-side, and Nelly appears with a tray of refreshments. As we take coffee, tea, and water, Father begins firing questions at Oceania with the determination of a bulldog. He really hadn’t been joking about revealing her as a “ragamuffin” quickly.
“So, Miss Oceania,” he says. “What brings you to Monterey?”
“The same thing that brings you here,” she says, laughing. “I’m on holiday.”
“And where are you from?”
Oceania waves her hand. “Far away. You probably wouldn’t even know the place if I told you.”
Father leans toward Oceania, steepling his fingers. “Oh, trust me, I’m quite well-versed in geography.” His sharp, badger-like eyes snap with challenge. “Why don’t you try me?”
I intervene, just as Oceania draws in a shaky breath. I can tell that Father is already starting to frighten her. I’m sure that she’s never encountered any creature like him in her relatively peaceful mermaid world.
“Oceania is quite the musician,” I interrupt. “Why don’t we play something for you?”
Mother springs up from her seat, clapping her hands. “Good fun! What instrument do you play, Miss Oceania?”
“The sea harp,” Oceania answers quickly. Her face reddens as both my parents stare at her.
“The sea harp?” Father repeats. “What in tarnation is that?”
“I—uh—meant the regular harp,” Oceania says, faking a smile. “I don’t know why I added the word ‘sea’ to it. I suppose it’s just the ocean air getting to me.”
Mother places a hand on Oceania’s shoulder. “I’m sure that’s exactly what it was, dear. The same thing happens to me all the time.” Turning toward the doorway, she calls, “Nelly! Can you fetch us the harp, please?”
The next few minutes are a flurry of activity as Nelly sets up Amelie’s harp next to the baby grand piano, and Oceania and I take our place in front of the small group.
As I slide onto the piano bench, I wink at Oceania. If there’s one way to win over my father, it’s with Oceania’s gift of song.
Although he doesn’t encourage my music, Mother said that Father once told her that he fell madly in love with her the instant he heard her sing in the opera house for the first time.
Chapter Thirty-One: Oceania
“Let’s play ‘our’ song,” Xavier says under his breath, smiling at me. I know instantly that he means the Sonata of the Mermaid.
So, as Amelie and Xavier’s parents look on, we sail into the music as smoothly as a yacht pushing off from the docks.
During the first few strains, I look around the room, gauging the reaction of our small audience. Amelie treats me to an encouraging grin, while Arabella sinks into the fainting couch, closing her eyes and moving her hands to the rhythm. Robert, however, reacts completely differently than I’d expected. When he’d been interrogating me earlier, he’d seemed fierce, like a shark going for blood. But now, his dark eyes have gone soft, and the corners of his mouth have vanished into his mustache as he smiles ever-so-slightly. He must feel something like the magic that surges between Xavier and me—all the time, but especially when we play music together.
I close my eyes, losing myself in the fusion of Xavier’s piano and my harp, our voices floating above the instruments in joyous harmony. When we’ve finished performing the sonata, Arabella and Amelie erupt into a round of applause.
Robert remains frozen in place for a few seconds after the music has died away, and then he sits up very straight, his eyes wide, as though he’s just come out of a long trance. He claps with the others, adding, “Bully!”
I have no idea what “bully” means, but from the enthusiastic way he says it, I’m thinking it means something good.
“You are quite the performer, Miss Oceania,” Robert says, his eyes lit from within and a silly grin on his face. I had no idea he was even capable of looking like this, and I immediately know that he’s probably succumbed to the power of my special talent. “I’ve never heard such beautiful music from anyone, except the women in my family, of course.”
“Thank you.” I smile graciously, but my feelings of happiness melt away the second that my eyes land on Xavier. He’s grimacing and chewing his bottom lip, and I know why; although his voice and piano were hauntingly lovely, his father didn’t so much as acknowledge his performance. “I couldn’t have done it without Xavier. Isn’t he a fine musician?”
The grin falls off Robert’s face, and he waves the suggestion off the way I would shoo away a bothersome sea crab. “Certainly. Music is a nice hobby for him, but don’t be expecting him to keep practicing with you forever—he has a fortune to make in the banking business, after all.”
“Everything isn’t about money,” Xavier mumbles under his breath, but his voice is lost as Arabella cries, “Miss Oceania, m
y dear. What an honor it was to hear you perform.” She shivers a bit. “It was almost…otherworldly. Please tell me that you’re considering a vocation in the opera. You have so much potential that it would be fairly criminal not to.”
“Thanks,” I say, feeling my face heat up. I’m not used to such effusive praise. So far, the only person who hasn’t gushed all over me has been Amelie. “But as far as singing in the opera, I—uh, hadn’t really thought much about it.”
“Well, you must think of it,” she persists, clasping her hands. “Why don’t you come to our party this Saturday evening, dear? You can perform before all of our friends, to build your confidence. Some of our guests are patrons of the arts, and you’ll make just the right connections.” She glances at her husband. “Don’t you think that’s a wonderful idea, Robert?”
Robert frowns for a moment, beckoning Arabella to his side. She floats across the room, and the two carry on a brief discussion in hushed tones. However, a mermaid’s sense of hearing is quite well-developed—it has to be, to discern all the nuances of underwater life. So, naturally, I hear everything.
“We can’t invite this girl to the party,” Robert says. “What about Victoria?”
“What about her?” Arabella says. “We’ll have many guests, dear. Why not one more, especially one this talented? The arts need her.”
“But how will Xavier pay attention to both women? And we still don’t know who this Oceania really is. Why, we don’t even know where she’s from!”
“With a voice like that, it doesn’t matter. And besides, Xavier is twenty-one. Don’t you think it’s about time that he makes his own decisions about women?”
“But all that money—”
“I came into our marriage with barely a penny to my name. But that didn’t stop you from falling in love with me, did it?”
The Mermaid's Curse (California Mermaids Book 1) Page 8