Watersong03 - Tidal Page 17

  Harper had told Gemma earlier in the week that Brian wanted to come along on their usual Saturday visit, but neither of them completely understood why. On one hand, Gemma knew she should be excited. She’d been all but begging her dad to see Nathalie since Christmas two years ago. That was the last time Brian had had any contact with their mom, not that he’d had that much before then.

  When Harper learned how to drive and could make the trip to visit Nathalie on her own, that was when Brian had officially checked out. But in the years leading up to that, he’d had minimal interaction with her. It was little more than a Hello, how are you? when he picked up the girls or dropped them off to visit.

  So it had Gemma a little freaked out that he actually wanted to do something with Nathalie, especially without any prodding from Gemma or Harper.

  Brian pulled into the driveway of Nathalie’s group home, and all her worries about surviving the sirens’ curse were changed to simply surviving this afternoon.

  “Did you call and let them know I was coming with you today?” Brian asked as he turned off the truck.

  “No,” Harper said. She leaned forward, her gray eyes worried. “Should I have?”

  Brian sat for a minute. “No, I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

  “We should go in,” Gemma suggested, since it seemed like her dad would be content to swelter in the truck all afternoon.

  “Yeah, let’s go in.” He nodded but didn’t move.

  He was tan from working outside so much, but his skin was ashen today. His blue eyes were wide and frantic, scanning the gauges of the truck like they would hold some clue about how to deal with this situation.

  This was the most scared that Gemma had ever seen him look. That wasn’t saying much, since he rarely showed any fear, but he was obviously terrified.

  “Dad?” Harper had climbed out of the truck, but she leaned against the door, watching him. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

  “No, yeah.” He nodded again and licked his lips. “I need to do this. I need to see her.”

  Gemma reached over and took Brian’s hand, his huge leathery one consuming hers, and she squeezed it gently.

  “You can do this, Dad,” Gemma told him.

  He smiled at her, but he still appeared sick. “You’re right. Let’s do this.”

  Brian finally opened the truck door and got out. Gemma climbed out more slowly after him. Her decision to wear shorts had been a bad one. Her legs were stuck to the plastic interior, and she had to carefully peel herself off before she got out.

  Harper and Brian were waiting for her, and Gemma went to knock on the door, letting the two of them stay a few steps behind her. In all the times she’d visited her mom before, she’d never felt so unnerved. This could all easily turn into a horrible disaster.

  Before the door even opened, Gemma could hear Nathalie yelling on the other side, “It’s for me! I got it!”

  Nathalie threw open the door, already smiling exuberantly, and shouted, “My girls!”

  The hardest thing about seeing Nathalie was that while the accident left her mentally impaired, she didn’t look any different. She was tall and elegant, appearing more like a model than a mother, let alone someone with brain damage. Her eyes were the same shade of golden honey as Gemma’s, and her smile was radiant.

  The only signs were subtle, like the Harry Potter T-shirt she wore, or the bright pink streak she had running down her long brown hair, or the temporary Lisa Frank tattoos of puppies and kittens she had up and down her arm.

  But to someone like Brian, who hadn’t seen her in years, it had to be a shock to see her looking exactly as he remembered her. It would be easier to accept that she’d become a different person if she looked different, but she didn’t.

  “Hi, Mom,” Gemma said.

  “Oh, you look so beautiful today.” Nathalie threw her arms around her, hugging her fiercely. Then she noticed Harper and reached out to squeeze her arm. “And so do you.”

  “Hey, Mom,” Harper said. It was a few octaves higher than she usually spoke, so Gemma knew she was freaking out a little bit.

  “We brought someone with us today,” Gemma said once Nathalie had finally released her. She stepped to the side so her mom could get a better look at Brian. “Do you recognize him?”

  “Hello, Nathalie.” He raised one hand, waving awkwardly at her.

  “Is this … is this your boyfriend?” she asked. Then she leaned down to Gemma and lowered her voice. “Honey, he’s too old for you.”

  “No, Mom, this is Dad,” Gemma tried to explain.

  “Brian,” Harper clarified. “Mine and Gemma’s dad. He’s your husband.”

  “What?” Nathalie straightened up and shook her head. “No, I’m not married.”

  “Yeah, Mom, you are,” Harper said gently.

  “But he…” Nathalie stared at Brian, looking confused and a bit disgusted. “He’s so old.”

  “I’m actually only six months older than you,” Brian said, doing his best to keep his voice light.

  She crossed her arms over her chest. “When is my birthday, then, smarty pants?”

  “October sixth, 1973,” Brian replied instantly.

  “Lucky guess,” Nathalie said, but by her expression, Gemma wasn’t sure if Nathalie knew if that was correct. It was, but there was a chance that she didn’t remember her birthday anymore. “What’s my middle name?”

  “Anne,” Brian said, then pointed to Gemma. “The same as Gemma’s.”

  “How long have we been married, then?” Nathalie asked, but her disbelief was melting. Her expression had softened into something more curious.

  “It was, um, twenty years this past April.” He lowered his eyes for a second, then looked back up at her.

  “Twenty years?” Nathalie asked.

  “This is really him,” Gemma said, hoping to help convince her mother.

  “It’s me, Nat,” Brian said simply.

  “Nat?” Her eyes flashed with painful recognition, and her arms dropped to her sides. “You used to call me that. Nobody calls me that anymore.”

  “I’m sorry. I don’t have to call you that,” Brian said.

  “No, you should.” She reached out and grabbed his hand. “Come on. Come in. We need to talk.”

  She led him through the house, introducing him to the staff as her husband, and Brian would just smile politely. The staff cleared out her roommates so they could have some privacy. Nathalie sat down at the dining room table, scooting her chair close to his, and stared at him with utter fascination.

  Gemma and Harper weren’t sure what they should do in this situation, so they just sat down across the table and watched their parents talk.

  “How did we meet?” Nathalie asked.

  He’d put his hand on the table, and she was almost petting it. Gemma had never seen anything like it. It was as if she wanted to hold his hand, but she was too frantic to keep it still, so she kept running her hands over it.

  “We met in elementary school,” Brian said. “But we didn’t start dating until high school.”

  “We were high school sweethearts?” Nathalie asked.

  He nodded. “We were, yeah.”

  “You took me to the prom?”

  “Yeah, I did.”

  “I knew it.” She squealed and laughed. “What color was my dress? How did I look?”

  “It was kind of a dark blue. You were beautiful.” He smiled at the memory. “You always were. You still are.”

  “Did you propose to me?” Nathalie asked.

  “I did,” he said. “It wasn’t very romantic. I was too nervous and I kept stumbling. You actually guessed before I had a chance to get the words out, but you instantly said yes.”

  She twisted the gold wedding band that he still wore on his finger, and he let her. “Where’s my ring?”

  “Um, the girls have it,” Brian said. “Gemma does, actually.”

  “I keep it in a jewelry box on my dresser,” Gemma said, and Nathalie glanced over a
t her for a second before returning her attention back to Brian.

  “Why don’t I wear it?” Nathalie asked.

  “We wanted to keep it safe,” he explained.

  “Do you have any pictures of our wedding?”

  “I do.” He nodded. “Not with me, but I have many.”

  “And after we got married, we had the girls?” Nathalie looked over at them again.

  “Yes, we did. They’re both our daughters.” Brian motioned in their direction, but he wouldn’t look at them, probably afraid that they might see the pain in his eyes.

  Nathalie was staring at Harper and Gemma like she’d never seen them before, scrutinizing them. “They’re beautiful.”

  “Yeah, they are,” Brian agreed with a small smile.

  “Harper looks like you.” Nathalie tilted her head. “She has your nose and your eyes, but hers are grayer. Yours are more blue.”

  “I think she’s prettier, too,” Brian said.

  Harper laughed nervously. “Thanks, Dad.”

  “You visit me a lot,” Nathalie said to the girls. “I see you. I remember you.” She pointed to Gemma. “You swim, and … and”—she pointed at Harper—“you’re going to college soon?”

  “Yep, that’s right,” Harper said.

  “I used to swim. But I’m acting in a play now.” Gemma leaned forward on the table. “You used to be in plays. Do you remember that?”

  “No.” Nathalie shook her head. “Should I?”

  “No.” Gemma forced a smile at her. “It’s okay, Mom.”

  Nathalie faced Brian again. She stopped petting his hand and just held it as she stared at him. “You don’t visit me. Do you?”

  “No, I don’t.” His voice was thick. “I’m sorry.”

  “Why not?” Nathalie asked, but there wasn’t a hint of accusation in her voice.

  “You … you don’t remember me very much anymore.” Brian chose his words carefully. “It’s hard for me to see you and not be able to talk to you like my wife, like the mother of my children. I want to talk to you about our life together, and I can’t.” He swallowed hard. “You don’t remember it.”

  “Why don’t I remember you?” Nathalie asked.

  “I don’t know.” He shook his head. “You remembered me more, after the accident, when I used to see you a lot. So it’s my fault. I should’ve stayed with you longer.”

  “I wish I remembered you,” she said quietly. “You seem very kind, and you have nice eyes.” She reached up, her fingers touching the crow’s-feet at the corner of his eye.

  “Thank you,” he said.

  “Were we in love?” Nathalie asked when she dropped her hand.

  “Yes.” Brian let out a shaky breath. “We were very much in love.” He pursed his lips. “And I’m sorry I let you down.”

  “How did you let me down?”

  “I should’ve visited you more. I should’ve been here for you.”

  “If I loved you the way you say I did, I’d want you to be happy,” Nathalie said. “And if seeing me makes you sad, then maybe it’s better that you didn’t.”

  She’d been playing with his hand, but he turned it so he was holding her hand. Tears were standing in his eyes, and he tried to sniff them back.

  “I miss you, Nat.”

  “I wish I could say I missed you, too,” Nathalie admitted. “But I don’t. I don’t remember you.”

  “I love you. I will always love you,” Brian said. “But I can’t do this anymore.”

  As he stood up, he bent down and kissed Nathalie on the forehead. He lingered there for a moment, breathing her in, and then he turned and walked out of the room.

  “Dad?” Harper got up and went after him.

  “Did I do something wrong?” Nathalie asked and looked back at Gemma.

  “No, Mom, you didn’t do anything wrong.” She got up and went around the table, sitting in her dad’s spot so she could be closer to Nathalie. “You did really good today.”

  “I’ve upset him, though.” She stared at Gemma. “I’ve upset you, too.”

  “No, I’m not upset.” Gemma wiped at her own eyes. She wasn’t crying, but she could feel the tears forming. “It’s not your fault.”

  “Gemma.” Nathalie brushed a hair back from Gemma’s face and tucked it behind her ear. “You look really pretty today.”

  “Thanks, Mom.” Gemma laughed and sniffled at the same time. “I wish you were here again.”

  “What do you mean?” Nathalie asked. “I am here.”

  “No, really here. I know you’re still in there, buried somewhere down…” Gemma trailed off as she realized something.

  She glanced around, making sure that she and Nathalie were completely alone. Then she took her mom’s hand in hers and leaned in close to her, keeping her voice low.

  “I want to try something, Mom,” Gemma said. “I’m going to sing to you, and I want you to … just react however feels natural, okay?”

  “Okay.” Nathalie had lowered her voice because Gemma had, and she nodded quickly.

  “Mom, I know you’re in there,” Gemma sang softly, barely above a whisper. Her voice came out in a clear perfect melody, and Nathalie’s expression began to relax. “I want you to remember all the things you forgot. Everything about Harper and Dad and me. I want you to come back.”

  “I…” Nathalie’s brow furrowed. “I…” She grimaced and touched her forehead.

  “Mom, are you okay?” Gemma reached out, touching her arm. “What’s going on? Do you remember anything?”

  “It hurts!” She put her hands on the side of her head, and her nose began to bleed.

  “Oh, no, Mom, I’m so sorry,” Gemma said. “Look at me, Mom. Please. Just look up.”

  “It hurts,” Nathalie repeated, but she finally looked at Gemma with tears welling in her eyes.

  “Forget my song,” Gemma sang. “Forget what I said.”

  “I can’t,” Nathalie said, almost pleading with her. “I can’t remember what you want me to. I can’t be who you want me to be. I’m sorry.” Then she cried out, hugging her head. “Make it stop! Make the pain stop!”

  “Your head doesn’t hurt anymore,” Gemma sang hurriedly before the staff came running in. “You’ll never feel a headache again.”

  And just like that, it stopped. Nathalie looked up at her with red-rimmed eyes and wiped at her nose with the back of her hand.

  “What happened?” Nathalie asked.

  “Nothing, Mom,” Gemma said. “You just had a headache.”

  When Nathalie’s staff came in to make sure she was all right, Gemma got up and went outside. If only she’d been able to do one good thing to help the people she loved, then being a siren would be worth it. But all she’d done—all she’d ever be able to do—was make things even worse.

  TWENTY-THREE

  Lonely

  Daniel didn’t want to fill the Paramount with sawdust, so he was cutting the large planks of wood out back with his circular saw. He had the board spread out across the sawhorses, and he double-checked the measurements.

  The sun beat down on his back, and it threatened to be a scorcher today. He’d taken off his shirt an hour ago, and he’d resorted to wrapping a bandanna around his forehead to keep the sweat from dripping down his brow.

  “They’re making you work on a Saturday?” Penn asked in her sultry voice. Her words couldn’t enchant him, but he could still hear how luxurious her voice sounded. “That’s like slave labor.”

  “It’s my choice to work on Saturdays,” Daniel said, without looking back at her. He stayed focused on the task at hand, using a pencil to mark the wood. “It’s less disruptive to play rehearsal and the businesses around here.”

  “I don’t know.” Penn walked closer to him so he could see her in his peripheral vision. “I’d find you working without your shirt pretty disruptive.”

  “Good thing you don’t work at the law offices next door.” He straightened up and finally looked over at Penn. “What can I do for you today?�
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  Her dress was so short, the hem didn’t even reach the middle of her thigh. Her legs appeared insanely long, bronzed and taut. She wore her long black hair down, and the breeze blew it back from her face. The spectacle of her cleavage was pushed out of her low-cut top. Her full lips were turned into a small, seductive smile, and her dark eyes looked like they could unlock all the tantric mysteries of the world.

  Conceptually, Daniel knew she was gorgeous. In fact, he’d venture so far as to say that she was the embodiment of sexual perfection—that no woman had ever been so beautiful or sensual in the history of the world.

  And yet, as he knew that, he couldn’t find himself attracted to her. Something about her flawlessness was off-putting to him, but it was more than that. Even subtracting the fact that she was evil, and counting only on physical appearance, he still found something lacking.

  It was like she wasn’t really there. Penn hit all the right notes, but they all rang false. She was merely the façade of a human being, with nothing behind it.

  “I was taking a walk around town and I spotted you working, so I thought I would say hello,” Penn said.

  “Hello, Penn.” He smiled at her. “Satisfied?”

  “Hardly.” She laughed. “You never leave me satisfied. Although I know a trick or two I’m sure you’d love.”

  Daniel rolled his eyes and turned away from her. “Charming.”

  “You say that like you don’t mean it, but I think you do.” Penn hopped on the sawhorse next to him as he bent over to write on the blueprints.

  “Do you really?” He glanced up at her in disbelief. “What have I done to give you that impression? Was it that time I punched you in the jaw? Or when you were kicking me repeatedly in the ribs?”

  He was referencing their encounter on the Fourth of July, the one and only time he’d ever hit a woman. Though he wasn’t completely certain that Penn could count as a real woman. After all, she was a man-eating monster.

  Penn waved it off. “That was just a little fun and games. Nobody got hurt.”

  “So you’ve forgotten how Lexi murdered your boyfriend?” Daniel asked her absently as he made a mark on his papers.

  “Gemma told you about that?” Penn clicked her tongue. “I thought she kept murder a secret. Especially after what she did.”