Moondance Beach (24 page)

Duncan shook his head, pulling her tighter. “Don’t move, Lena. Stay here a little longer.” He kissed her silky hair and breathed her in, detecting a perfect mix of salt water, woman, and sex. His mind wandered off to his buddy Jax, the only married guy in their platoon. When Jax would talk about his wife, his whole face would change. The hard edges would soften and his lips would curl up in the most useless, inexcusable, pussy-whipped smile that ever appeared on a Navy SEAL’s face. Duncan would rib him mercilessly about it.

But right then Duncan was certain that if he had a mirror, he would look an awful lot like his late friend Jax.

“Duncan?”

“Hmmm?”

’Round and ’round and ’round
 . . .

“You asked me something important when we were on the beach. I have an answer for you.”

“Okay, baby.” He smiled.

’Round and ’round and ’round
 . . .

“You said something about how we hadn’t spoken since we were kids but now here we were . . . how did you say it?”

“All up in each other.” Duncan laughed.

“Kind of prophetic, wouldn’t you say?”

“Prophetic and fantastic.” He reached around and played with the ends of her hair.

“Well, there’s something you should know.”

And with that, his Zen-like, post-sex stupor was blown the fuck up. He’d just heard a hint of fear in Lena’s voice, and now she was sitting up in bed and pulling the covers around her.

Duncan stayed where he was, trying to focus on the view. She was so damn beautiful. Soft and sensual and uninhibited . . .

“I have loved you my whole life, Duncan Flynn.”

He stared at her. “What do you mean?”

“I mean . . .” She pushed the hair from her face. Her expression was far too serious for pillow talk. “I had a vision. It was on the day you did the pencil drawing, the day you kissed me.”

Duncan nodded, hoping to God this was not headed in the woo-woo direction he suspected. “A vision?”

“Remember when you said the kiss felt ‘unearthly’?”

It was time for Duncan to sit up, too. He shoved himself against the headboard, rubbed his face in his hands,
and tried to appear nonjudgmental. Yes, he had in fact said that, and now he deeply regretted it. “I remember.”

“Well, I believe it really was. I think it was some sort of . . . I don’t know how to explain it exactly . . . a powerful
sign
for us to see together. I know this is going to sound really strange . . .”

It already does.
Duncan touched her hand and smiled, while inside he felt like he was going to be sick.

“As soon as you kissed me, I knew you were my destiny. I have loved you ever since that moment, and I’ve waited for you to come to me. Through all these years I’ve
never given up
.”

Duncan couldn’t swallow. He stared at that annoying ceiling fan, and after a frozen second or two, he said, “Excuse me. Be right back.”

He escaped into Lena’s bathroom and shut the door. Duncan looked at himself in the mirror and almost started laughing—what an idiot he’d been! He couldn’t imagine a worse turn of events.
An otherworldly destiny?
Oh, holy shit, he was trapped in one of his mother’s mermaid meetings!

The mermaid.

God, how he hated that bitch.

Duncan slipped back into the room and grabbed his clothes. He put his boxer briefs and pants on first, then his shirt. Next he slipped on his shoes. All the while Lena sat there, with her legs tucked under her and the covers wrapped around her, looking like a lost puppy. The actual lost puppy was in her lap.

“Lena.” He sat on the edge of the bed and leaned over to kiss her. Her lips felt cool. “Look, I have to ask you something.”

She nodded, her eyes wide with regret.

“Sweetie, do you believe in the mermaid?”

She cocked her head and looked at him quizzically. “Are you asking me if I believe there are unseen forces at work in our lives? Are you asking me if I believe there’s room for magic in this world? Then the answer is ‘yes, absolutely.’”

“No.” He shook his head incredulously. “My question was quite simple: do you . . . believe . . . in the mermaid?”

Her eyes flashed in defiance. “Do I believe mermaids live in the sea? Or do I believe in the mermaid legend of Bayberry Island?”

Duncan laughed. “Seriously? Is there a difference?”

“That’s not for me to say.”

“Ooo-kay. Let me rephrase that.” He briefly squeezed his eyes shut to regain his focus. “Lena, do you think the mermaid statue in Fountain Square brought you and me together? Did she determine our ‘destiny’?”

Lena’s face fell in sadness. “You asked why our connection has been so intense, so fast. I answered you to the best of my ability. And now you’re ridiculing me for being honest.”

Duncan shook his head. “Look, I’m sorry. This is way out of my comfort zone. It pushes all my buttons, and I can’t even sit here and have a conversation like this—it’s just too crazy.”

He headed toward the bedroom door.

“Aren’t you going to ask me if
I’m
a mermaid?”

Duncan’s head spun around. Lena stared at him with wild eyes.

“Sure, Lena. Are you a mermaid?”

“You really want me to answer that?”

That was it for him—he’d had enough. Duncan could see the conversation veering off into whether the moon was an alien hovercraft and the mating habits of Bigfoot.

“I’m sorry, Lena. You have no idea how sorry I am. But I can’t do this.”

It was a long-assed walk back to the Safe Haven on a cool and windy night, but Duncan had survived far worse—at least in terms of weather. The way his heart felt, however, was something new—it was ripped to fucking shreds. One minute he was desperately in love, and the next minute he was discussing the finer points of mermaidery.

He should never have come home.

Duncan walked past the Safe Haven and into town. He wasn’t ready to bump into Ash or Rowan and have them ask about Lena. What the hell would he say? “
She’s a swell girl—and she believes in mermaids! Just like the girl who married dear old Dad!”

He ended up near Fountain Square, and because it was late and a little too windy for optimum comfort, there were no tourists to be seen. Duncan sat on the bench and clasped his hands between his knees.

No wonder he’d left Bayberry and never looked back. This place was created by, and for, crazy people. Looking back, he saw that Lena had done a bang-up job masking her true feelings in those media interviews. No doubt sales would suffer if the world knew she was cuckoo bananas.

Shit. He was crying. He was a thirty-four-year-old Navy SEAL scheduled to receive a Purple Heart, yet he was sitting on a bench, in the dark, at the mermaid fountain, crying because his heart was broken.

The worst part was that he had no frame of reference for going forward. Duncan really loved Lena. He
loved
her. But he could never build something with her because she lived in a world of unicorns and rainbows and mermaids, for shit’s sake! In the end it didn’t matter how wonderful she was or how much he loved her. It wasn’t enough.

How had he even gotten here? When he’d returned to Bayberry this summer, the last thing Duncan had wanted was a woman. Then suddenly he did want a woman, and not just any woman. He wanted Adelena Silva. He wanted her with everything in him.

The wind picked up, blowing directly into his face.

“She is yours and you are hers
.
”

Duncan suddenly felt as if he’d been slapped. The dream! Making love to Lena tonight was a near reenactment of that devastating dream he’d had in June, almost sensation by sensation. The only difference was that in the dream he could not call out his lover’s name—because he did not know it. He knew it tonight.

And that deep sensation of loss, of something slipping through his fingers . . . That dream was an exact version of how he felt right that instant. He’d lost something precious. It had disappeared into thin air. He’d been left hollowed out.

The wind rushed him.
“She is yours and you are hers
.
”

Wait—that voice hadn’t been in his head. He really had just heard something. Duncan stood, scanning the area, but saw no one. Which was impossible. Because he’d clearly just heard a voice.

And he did it. Dammit, he couldn’t stop himself. His eyes traveled up to the bronze sea hag, the source of hundreds of years of ridiculousness.

She rose above him, round and feminine, holding herself with purpose as she looked out to sea. A half smile played on those bronze lips. Her neck arched gracefully and her hair flowed over a shoulder and across some spectacular cleavage. Her mermaid tail flipped up coyly, yet she refused to make eye contact. Oh, she was impressive, all right. Sixteen feet of mythic femininity, flirty and aloof. It was no wonder some people anointed her with an authority she didn’t deserve.

“Thanks for nothing,” he told her.

Duncan jogged back to the Safe Haven and went directly to his room. He flipped on the light and noticed an envelope sitting in the middle of his bed. When he saw the cursive handwriting on the front, he grabbed it and immediately tore it open.

Dear Duncan,

We received your letter last month and wanted to tell you how much it meant to us. We know you grieve the loss of Justin as we do. Nestor and I (this is Beth writing) keep you in our thoughts and prayers every day. You were the brother Justin never had. Did you know that? Because he grew up with three older sisters, your friendship was a priceless gift. I remember how you two pushed each other and never allowed the other to give up, but did you know that Justin also looked up to you and admired you? Well, he did.

After thinking a long while about what you wrote, I had to respond. You may not want to hear what I have to say, but know it comes from my heart—a mother’s heart. I hope that you are in a frame of mind to hear it.

You wrote that you must live a life that honors Justin, Simon, Jax, Terrence, Paul, Mike, and Scotty. You said that going back to active duty is the only way you know how to do that. But I have to tell you, Duncan, because we love you like you were one of our own: there is another way. Please allow me to explain what I mean.

We met your parents and your brother and sister at Walter Reed. They are wonderful people. I can see where you got your sense of humor and love of life. Nestor and I have been blessed in so many ways, and the primary blessing has been our children and the family we have created together. It was clear to us that your family is similarly blessed.

Justin is gone forever. He was an honorable and brave U.S. Navy SEAL, and he, like you, reached the pinnacle in service to his country. But he never had the chance to fully experience life.

Should you decide to return to active duty, please do not do so because of a vague notion that you are serving in Justin’s honor. He had ample opportunity to wage war and he did so, but he never had a chance to love, which—in my humble opinion—is the pinnacle of being human. Justin ran out of time.

You are a marvel, Duncan, a man of determination and purpose. But if you truly want to live in a way that honors our Justin, do the things he didn’t live long enough to do. Slow down and open your heart to the people near you. Let them know who you are. Step back from the constant drive to succeed just long enough to experience joy. Find a way to compassionately serve your fellow warriors. Forgive even when it seems impossible. And, most
important, if you ever find a woman who touches your spirit and is worthy of your love, don’t retreat from the challenge. Do the bravest thing any man can do and love her in return.

We support you in whatever you choose and are here for you always. Please be happy. Life is precious.

Love,
Nestor and
Beth

I
t was all Lena could do to drag herself to the Safe Haven, but she’d promised Rowan she would come. For reasons she didn’t yet understand, the get-together sounded like serious business for Duncan’s sister.

Lena dressed in a khaki skirt and cotton blouse and pulled her hair up in a ponytail. Though it was something she rarely attempted, she dabbed some concealer under her eyes to hide the fact that she’d been crying for twelve hours. Unfortunately, she’d had better results painting other people’s eyes on a canvas than her own in real life.

As she drove to the bed-and-breakfast, Lena convinced herself that she would make it through the day. She told herself that sharing a few laughs with other women would be good for her soul. And if she should happen to run into Duncan, she would survive. She always had.

But God, she ached inside. She felt lost. And she feared in her heart that she’d lost Duncan forever.

Rowan and Ash’s apartment in the Safe Haven was comfortable and welcoming and certainly less high Victorian than the rest of the bed-and-breakfast. The space
was dominated by a large family room overlooking Safe Haven Beach and an open-concept kitchen and dining area. A seating area had neutral overstuffed chairs, couches, and ottomans grouped on a round area rug. Painted tables were scattered throughout, as were colorful lamps and fresh flowers. Framed photos lined the fireplace mantel and walls, and it took Lena just a glance to see that the pictures were from Rowan’s life, Ash’s life, and the life they were building together.

Annie and Evelyn were already there, and Christina was lying on her belly on the rug, busy with crayons and paper.

“Lena! Come on in!” With Serena on her hip, Rowan cleared pillows and toys from the sofa and made room for her to sit.

Evie asked, “Would you like some tea? Red wine?”

Lena noted that though there were two bottles of wine and four wineglasses on the coffee table, there wasn’t a teapot in sight. “Um, wine?”

“Good answer!” Annie said, laughing.

Christina asked if John Dean had come along. “Not today,” Lena said. “She’s taking a nap.”
Probably on my clean sheets,
she thought.

Lena immediately felt at ease. The women had been so fun and kind last evening that Lena felt ridiculous for ever believing Rowan and Annie were standoffish. The truth was quite the opposite. And Evelyn, the most recent addition to the island, was smart, witty, and caring. Lena had to admit that for a woman more accustomed to solitude than a girls’ night out, she enjoyed their company immensely.

Why, exactly, they were gathered today was still unclear to Lena. When Rowan asked her to come by to talk
about the future of the Bayberry Island Mermaid Society, Lena thought she had misheard her.

“My mother is shutting down the organization,” Rowan said. “I need help brainstorming about how I can make the process easier for her.”

So there they were, gathered in Rowan’s home, the subdued light of a cloudy day reaching through the windows and resting on their faces.

“Thank you for coming,” Rowan said, a twinge of guilt in her voice.

Lena suddenly feared she’d been summoned on false pretenses. She set down her wineglass, praying that this was not about her relationship with Duncan, because whatever questions they had, she had no answers for. Maybe she never would.

“Lena, we’re going to take over the merms.” Rowan made the announcement with no lead-in whatsoever. “We want you to do it with us.”

She cocked her head to the side. “Take over? Like a coup?”

Annie laughed loudly. “Wouldn’t that be fun? I’ve always wanted to go mano a mano with Polly Estherhausen.”

“I’m not sure I’m following you,” Lena said.

Serena was drowsing off in her mother’s arms, so Rowan softened her voice. “Ma has been leading the group for forty years, but she just can’t do it any longer. No one else wants to do it, either. In fact, I would say no one wants to bother with the group at all.”

Lena was surprised. “But I thought there’s always been a Mermaid Society, that it was a tradition here.”

“It is,” Rowan said. “But it’s a tradition that’s hit a dead end unless we can find a way to resurrect it.”

“They’ve been trying to get Rowan and me to join for
at least fifteen years,” Annie said. “They always pictured us as the ‘next generation.’”

“Kinda like Star Trek?” Evie asked.

Annie snorted.

“I’ve always been seen as the de-facto future president,” Rowan explained. “It’s a job that’s been held by a Flynn daughter or daughter-in-law for one hundred twenty-four years, and my number was up.”

Lena didn’t want to appear rude, but she had always thought the Mermaid Society slightly absurd. It was one thing to ride on a joyful parade float once a year dressed like a mermaid, but it was quite another to wear a spandex fantail to the grocery store.

Suddenly, a gust of wind beat at the side of the house, and they all jumped in surprise.

“The Mermaid Ball’s going to be interesting tonight,” Evie said. “Clancy’s been freaking out because of the weather reports.”

“We’ve been rained on before,” Rowan said. “As long as there’s not a power outage, we can work with it. But, boy, would I love to make it through one summer without the lights going out.”

“Are you coming to the ball, Lena?”

She stared at Annie. “Who?
Me
?” Lena had never been to a Mermaid Ball.

“Yes, you.” Annie smiled. “Are you going with Duncan?”

“Ah, no. I doubt that.” Lena plastered a smile on her face. “Anyway, I need to get some work done tonight.”

Rowan reached over and touched her hand. “Please come, Lena. I think it would be nice if all of us were there together. Maybe even make an announcement if we feel ready to.”

Lena quickly changed the topic. “So you’ve already made up your minds? You’re going to do it?”

Rowan and Annie glanced at each other. “That’s what we’re here to discuss. I felt horrible when I saw how broken up Ma and the other merms were, but not horrible enough to throw my common sense out the window.”

“So we thought we might agree to join if we were able to make some changes,” Annie said. “You know, dial back the cray-cray a little bit. I’m sorry, but I just don’t want to be a sixty-year-old lady wandering around in coconut boobs and snow boots like Izzy McCracken. Nothing says ‘out of my freakin mind’ like that outfit.”

Everyone laughed.

“So you think if you kept the general spirit of the group, they wouldn’t mind if you made a few changes?”

Rowan winced. “I don’t know, Lena. I haven’t really talked to them about it. I wanted to have some ideas in place before I approached them.”

“But what
is
the spirit of the group? Why does it even exist?” Evie poured herself more wine. “I know what the legend says, and I’ve seen enough to know that the merms are silly but harmless. So what is it that you’ve always run from?”

“I think the society started out with good intentions,” Annie said. “They wanted to keep the original legend alive and encourage people to find love, and there’s nothing wrong with that. But it’s just derailed into a bunch of nonsense, and not all of it is harmless if you ask me. But I’ll let our natural-born Flynn tell you about that.”

Lena sat back and listened as Rowan talked about how she’d sit on the stairs as a child and eavesdrop on Mermaid Society meetings being held in the dining
room. Her confession made Lena smile, since she’d sometimes listened from her apartment off the kitchen. Rowan described what she’d learned about the rituals performed on solstices and equinoxes. “It’s just some repeat-after-me stuff about their respect for the Mermaid Queen.”

Evie scrunched up her face. “That sounds a little too Druidy for my tastes.”

“I dated a Druid once,” Annie said. “He always smelled like pinesap.”

“I think we’re veering off topic, Annie,” Evie said.

She raised her wineglass. “Carry on.”

Rowan also described how they performed “interventions,” where members would ask the mermaid to help two people find love—without the couple’s knowledge or permission.

“I could never butt into people’s lives like that,” Evie said, shaking her head. “Even if it’s not real.”

“But,” Rowan continued, “that’s not the worst. The thing that really chaps my ass is their stupid book.”

Lena listened as Rowan detailed how the Mermaid Society kept a log of major developments in the love lives of islanders and visitors. She remembered hearing mention of it, too.

Evie gasped. “You’re
kidding
me!”

Rowan shook her head. “They go out and collect evidence of what happened to so-and-so in order to decide if it was a bona fide mermaid miracle or something more mundane like hormones, or too many daiquiris, or whatever.”

Evie’s eyes got huge. “It sounds like the Pope deciding who to canonize.”

“Exactly,” Annie said. They clinked wineglasses.

Lena decided to speak up. “I eavesdropped sometimes myself.”

Rowan’s lips parted. She looked surprised. “You did?”

“Sure. And one night I heard them arguing about whether to ‘sanction’ the love story of a woman who ran away with one of the party planners for her wedding.”

“Oh, my God!” Annie laughed. “That girl is a legend—she hooked up with the equipment rental guy after her groom missed the mainland ferry and didn’t show up for hours. She married the rental guy, moved to the Cape, and had seven kids.”

Evie looked disturbed. “They keep all these love stories in an actual book?”

Rowan nodded. “I’ve never seen it, but I’ve heard them talk about it many times.”

Everyone got quiet. Eventually Lena said, “Well, without all that stuff none of us would want to do, what’s left? Why have a Mermaid Society at all?”

Rowan looked thoughtful. “There’s the original legend, which is really nothing but a reminder that miracles occur in our lives every day. Then there’s one hundred and fifty years of island history. And an unbroken tradition passed down through the women of my family.” Rowan kissed the top of Serena’s head.

“She’s named after the original mermaid,” Lena said.

“She is—she’s the namesake of my great-great-grandmother.” Rowan looked around the room. “So I guess if I let the mermaid tradition die, then Serena wouldn’t get to put her stamp on it in the future.”

“What should we do?” Annie asked. “Are we going to try to resurrect the Bayberry Island Mermaid Society? Drag it kicking and screaming into the twenty-first century?”

Suddenly, Christina hopped up from the floor. She’d been coloring so quietly that everyone had forgotten she was in the room. There were tears rolling down her cheeks. “I want to be a mermaid when I grow up. So does Serena. Please don’t take it away from us.”

The women sat in stunned silence for a moment. Eventually, Annie said, “Maybe we should put it up for a vote.”

Rowan reached out to her niece and pulled her close. Christina cuddled into her side. “All righty, then. All those in favor of keeping the Bayberry Island Mermaid Society around for a few more years—in some form—please raise your hands,” Rowan said.

It passed unanimously—four women and one little girl were in favor.

Rowan looked at the others and said, “I know what our first order of business should be.”

Everyone waited.

“Mona and Frasier Flynn, my mother and father. Talk about two people who are in desperate need of a miracle.”

“Then let’s ask for one. What harm could it do?” Annie raised her glass, and everyone joined her. “Here’s to miracles.”

“To miracles,” they repeated.

*   *   *

Mona stood in her front door, watching Duncan trim back her roses. If she didn’t know better, she’d think he was trying to exterminate them along with all plant life in the immediate vicinity.

He had switched out the pruning shears for the electric hedge trimmer about a half hour before, saying the shears required maximum effort for minimal results.
Now piles and piles of blooms, thorns, and branches littered the yard. The arbor was next on his list, he had told her, followed by the boxwoods. Mona said a little prayer that her flora would survive the one-man invasion that was her son.

Mona could not see his eyes behind the safety goggles, but she could tell by the stiffness in his shoulders and neck that he was hurting terribly.

So he cut and cut and cut. Mona readjusted her earplugs.

Duncan had arrived at her front door, unannounced, the worries of the world etched on his handsome face. He said that during the cookout he’d noticed her outdoor plants had become overgrown, and he was there to fix the problem for her. Mona walked with him out to the shed and made sure he had everything he needed.

“Would you like some lemonade?”

“No thanks, Ma.”

She looked him up and down. He had obviously been running—for a good long while. His shorts and shirt were soaked with sweat and rivulets ran down his shins. Duncan was healed physically. That was clear to see. The pain he carried that day was heartache.