Authors: MaryJanice Davidson
Sixteen
Rennan and Tennian wouldn’t stay.
“Oh, come on,” Jonas, ever the peacemaker, coaxed. “Look how much lobster’s left! Without you chewing on the things, all that shell is going to go to waste.”
“We cannot remain under the roof with a traitor to the royal blood,” Tennian said stiffly, and Fred remembered that Artur was her cousin. She, probably more than the average Undersea Folk, took Fred’s father’s betrayal more personally than most. “I do not mean to give offense, Fredrika.”
“Farewell,” her twin added, holding the door for his sister. “The food was very fine.”
“Run along, children,” her father said. Fred had to admit, he seemed pretty unruffled at the snub. Almost . . . amused?
She sort of liked him for it.
The twins stomped out looking (Fred had to admit it) exactly like kids throwing a tantrum.
“So!” Farrem said brightly, sitting down in Tennian’s chair. “Are you going to eat that lobster?”
Seventeen
“This is a little awkward—” Fred began, only to be interrupted by Jonas.
“No, it’s cool! It’s so cool that you showed up now! My God . . . so . . . many . . . questions . . .” Jonas clutched his temples. “Let’s start with the big one. Does inherent grumpiness run in your side of the family? Because she sure didn’t get it from her mom. And do you take pleasure in looking as unattractive as you can at every opp—”
Farrem laughed, an easy, deep sound. “I will gladly answer your questions, good sir, but perhaps introductions could come first?”
“If you’re expecting your one and only daughter to remember protocol, you’re gonna have a long damn wait,” Thomas said, smiling a little. Fred wasn’t fooled. Thomas might look and sound casual, as if this were any other get-together, but she knew the scientist in him wanted to stick Farrem in a lab and run several hundred tests. And right now!
“Am I?” Fred asked.
“Are you what, my own?” Farrem bit off a lobster claw and crunched contentedly.
“Your one and only daughter.”
Farrem laughed. “As far as I know! Certainly you’re the most famous of my offspring, even if I had several dozen to keep track of. I saw you on the television box and thought, could that be the product of that delightful night on a
Crunch. Crunch.
“. . . we look a great deal alike.”
“Yeah, I was noticing that, too.” One thing about Undersea Folk . . . the only ones who shared the same coloring were blood relatives, like Artur and the king, or Tennian and her brother. “Well, you asked about intros. This is my best friend, Jonas, and this is my colleague—”
“Colleague?” Thomas cried with mock hurt. “Is that all we are to each other, you heartless harpy?”
“—Dr. Thomas Pearson. Guys, this is—well—Farrem.” She wasn’t ready to call him “Dad.” Shit, her stepfather, Sam, had raised her (he’d married her mother, Moon, while she was knocked up with Fred) and she didn’t even call
him
Dad. “My, uh, biological father.”
“It pleases me to meet such gentlemen over my daughter’s table.”
Crunch
. “Fredrika, tell me—how is your lady mother?”
“Hot,” Jonas said.
Fred glared. Jonas’s crush on her mother got more disturbing every year. When they were nine it wasn’t too creepy, but now . . . “Moon’s fine.”
In fact, I’m going to have to make a phone call. Right now.
“She thinks you’re dead.”
Farrem’s smile dropped away like someone had snatched it. “To many of our folk, I am. Or as good as.”
“So why are you here now?” Thomas asked.
“Is it not obvious, Dr. Pearson? The king could banish me from his kingdom . . . but not from the surface. I confess I could scarce believe my eyes when I started seeing the news reports.”
“You and most of the rest of the planet.”
“Indeed! And now that my folk have begun making themselves known to surface dwellers . . .” Farrem shrugged and crunched into a claw. “It seemed an opportune time to reemerge.”
“I’m sure the others will be thrilled,” Fred said dryly, remembering the reaction of the twins.
“That,” Farrem said coolly, “is their problem and not mine. Besides, how could I stay away when every time I turned on the television box my own eyes were staring out at me?”
Fred could feel herself start to blush, and fought it. Still. A nice thing for him to say. Gracious, even, because she was no beauty, and
he
was really handsome.
“I must admit, I was astonished—not only to see you, but to see my own people coming out of the sea. Astonishing. Truly.” He shook his head. “After centuries of hiding . . .”
“But what’s your plan? I mean, Fred says you got kicked out—banished or whatever—after, uh . . . So what’s your plan?”
“I was intemperate and willful in my youth,” Farrem said evenly, “and reached too high. I was deservedly slapped down and have been paying the price for over three decades. I earned my banishment. But the king cannot keep me from the surface, and now that my people are out
here
. . .” He shrugged. “My plan is atonement. I wish to show the royal family I am no threat . . . Not that, after defeating me, they need such assurances! And eventually . . . maybe . . . acceptance.”
Fred thought about the twins and didn’t think dear old Dad should hold his breath on that one.
“It will take time,” he said, practically reading her mind. “But then, if you know our people, Fredrika, you know that time, at least, is something most of us have much of. Comparatively speaking,” he added with an apologetic glance at Thomas and Jonas.
“You should stay here while you put Operation Atonement into action,” Jonas said. “Fred has tons of room.”
Fred, who had raised the can of Coke to her mouth, nearly crushed it. “What?” Oh, this was too much!
“Of course, I would never impose,” her father said hastily, which made Fred feel bad, which made her mad.
Which made her
furious
at Jonas. Tons of room, her scaled ass! If her math was correct, there was exactly one empty bedroom left . . . which she was about to offer to her long-lost father. She knew, knew,
knew
renting a four-bedroom house was an exercise in madness.
On the upside, with no more bedrooms to offer, that’d be the end of drop-in guests. Probably. Maybe.
“It’s no imposition,” she lied, wishing she dared toss Jonas into the pool. “We can—uh—” What did fathers and daughters
do
, exactly? Go to father/daughter picnics? Was he going to teach her to drive? Would she share her dating debacles with him? God, he wouldn’t think he had to tell her about the birds and the bees, would he? “Upstairs, last door on the left.”
“Then if you will excuse me, I will get settled.” He stood so quickly they hardly saw him move, and bowed to them. “My thanks for the welcome, the meal, the conversation, and the very fine hospitality.”
They watched him climb the stairs, and then Thomas leaned in and murmured, “Your old man’s got style to spare.”
“I wonder if he was so polite when he tried to kill the king.”
“C’mon, Fred.” Jonas snatched her Coke and took a healthy guzzle. “He said it himself—he was a jerk when he was young. Seems to run in the family.”
“How’d you like to hit the pool? From the second story? Through a closed window?”
He ignored her threats, as he had for decades. “It was thirty years ago. He’s sorry now, I bet. But that’s not even the important thing.”
“Oh, do tell, Jonas.” She grabbed her Coke back. “What’s the important thing?”
“Deciding whether or not to call Moon.”
Her mother! Ack. Jonas was right, curse his eyes. She cringed, picturing the call.
And then the visit.
Better get it over with.
Eighteen
“Now!” Moon Bimm said briskly. She and her husband, Sam, had taken a cab from the airport and had only now arrived at Fred’s house. “What’s this all about, Fred? Why so mysterious on the phone? If you’re trying to get out of helping Jonas plan his wedding, you can just stop it right now.”
“But how’d you even know Jonas—”
“He called me.”
“What?”
Moon blinked. “He calls almost every week.”
“Oh, for the love of—”
“Do you have any herbal tea?”
“No, I have beer and soda.”
“Fred, how can you treat your body so badly? It is a sacred temple, a gift—particularly yours! Vitamin water and salads, that’s how you could best show your body how grateful you are for the gift of such a hallowed vessel.”
Fred ground her teeth. Moon had never quite let go of the hippie thing, and it was maddening. Also, she was a
rich
hippie, like that wasn’t a weird-ass paradox. Sam came from tons of money.
And, though she wasn’t about to admit it to Jonas, her mother was in damned fine shape for a woman in her fifties. A short, good-looking blonde with silver streaks running through her shoulder-length hair, Moon was plump where women are supposed to be plump, with laugh lines and a near-permanent smile. She didn’t dress like the wife of a millionaire, preferring faded T-shirts and jeans.
Sam, Fred’s stepfather, was as mild-mannered as Fred was not. Tall, balding, with a gray-streaked ponytail, he, also, didn’t dress like a millionaire. More like a struggling artist.
Although she could never tell him so, she loved him and honored him for not fleeing when he realized his new wife had popped out a mermaid. He had even, memorably, tried to teach her how to swim.
It had gone badly. He’d had to be rescued from the YMCA pool. But that wasn’t the point.
“Mom, I didn’t call you guys down here so you could lecture me about my Coke habit. The thing is—”
“Are you nervous about
60 Minutes
? Because you’ll be fine,” Sam said, opening the fridge and peering inside. “You’ve been doing fine in all your interviews.”
“Thank goodness for TiVo,” Moon added. “Otherwise we couldn’t keep up with all your appearances.”
“Your mother is keeping a scrapbook,” Sam said, popping a beer. He, unlike Moon, didn’t mind polluting his sacred temple with the occasional can of Bud.
“Don’t even tell me.”
“It’s getting huge.”
“Sam, seriously! Don’t tell me. Listen. Mom. And, uh, Sam. Now don’t freak out.”
“Oh, my God!” Moon darted forward and seized Fred’s cold hands (they were always cold) in her warm ones. “You’re pregnant!”
Fred, a full head taller than her petite, sweetly plump mother, blanched and tried to pull away. Weirdly, it was difficult—Moon had quite a grip when she wanted. “Mom, I’m not—Jeez, ease up, will you? My fingers are going numb. I’m not pregnant. You have to have sex to get pregnant and I’m in the middle of a three-year dry spell.”
“Oh, now that’s just ridiculous! Prince Artur would have sex with you in half a second, and I’ll bet that nice Dr. Pearson would, t—”
“Mom, we are not. Discussing. My arid. Sex life.”
“But it’s not wrong to share what God has given you with a man you—”
“Mom!” Fred nearly howled.
“Try not to scream, hon,” Sam said, sipping contentedly at his Bud. “It’s not even noon.”
Fred extracted herself from her mother’s grip with no small difficulty, took a swig of Sam’s beer, then sucked in a breath and tried again.
“Thanks for coming so fast. I’ve got some news and I wanted to tell you in person.”
“Well,” Sam said reasonably, “don’t keep us in suspense.”
The front door opened and Jonas called, “Hey, new rental car in the driveway—is your hot mom here?”
Fred moaned. Sam grinned, got up, pulled out another beer, and handed it to her. Moon turned to greet Fred’s unbelievably irritating friend.
“Jonas, you bad boy, like I don’t know you’re in love with a perfectly beautiful woman.”
“Ah, Moon.” He hugged her mother so hard, the woman’s feet left the floor. “You never forget your first crush. So, what d’you think of the news?”
“We were just—”
“
I
think she should say yes. Don’t you want to have a princess in the family?”
Fred finished her beer in four gulps.
“
What?
You mean Prince Artur finally asked you to marry him?”
“Mom . . .”
“But that’s wonderful! You can settle down and have children and help the Undersea Folk and—and—”
Shocking everyone in the room, Moon burst into tears.
Nineteen
Pandemonium. Shouts. Threats. Tears. Kleenex. More shouts. More tears.
“Mom, what
is
it?”
“I’m so sorry,” she sobbed. “I’m happy for you, I swear I am.”
“I can tell,” Fred replied, moderately horrified.
“Only . . . you’ll have to go live with him. In the castle under the
“But I hardly ever visit unless—”
“I can’t even visit . . . Dr. Pearson told me the pressure alone would kill a surface dweller; that’s why they built their home base there. This—” She waved a hand, vaguely indicating
“You don’t look like you understand,” Fred said doubtfully.
“But if you got married—if you were a member of the royal family—you’d have to move. To the other side of the planet.
Beneath
the other side of the planet. And I don’t want—you’re my only—”
“Mom, for God’s sake.” Fred could count on one hand how many times she’d seen her mother cry. It was frightening and frustrating and weird, all at once. “That’s not even my news, thank you very much,
Jonas
.”
“Well, how was I supposed to know you wouldn’t mention, oh, I dunno,
a royal marriage proposal
to your mom?”
Moon sniffed and blinked up at her daughter. “You mean he didn’t propose?”
“Oh, he proposed. I just haven’t made up my mind.”
Moon looked horrified even as Jonas was busily blotting her cheeks with Kleenex. “But then I’ve messed it up! You’ll factor my reaction into your decision-making!”
“When has she ever, Moon?” Sam asked mildly, which was just the right thing to say. Everyone calmed down.
She sniffled again. “But then what
is
your news?”
“Well. It’s like this. My father—my biological, Undersea Folk father—is alive.”
Moon and Sam stared at her.
“Blow,” Jonas ordered, and Moon blew into the Kleenex.
“And staying here. With me.”
More staring.
“And he was hoping to see you again. If your—uh—” She turned to Jonas. “How’d he put it?”
“ ‘If he who is her mate in no way objects,’ ” Jonas parroted. “Guy talks like a book. A good book,” he added hastily, “but still. A book. I mean, I’ve got a degree in chemical engineering and
I
don’t talk like a book.”
“More like a comic. Anyway, ‘he who is her mate’ . . . that’d be you,” she told Sam. “He’d like to see her again if you don’t mind.”
“I don’t mind,” Sam said. “I’d like to meet him myself.”
“Awww. Just like a family reunion,” Jonas said. “Actually, it
is
a family reunion. Here,” he added, handing Moon more Kleenex. “Keep the box.”