Brad about my mother… okay?”
“I doubt he’d believe me if I did,” he said. He looked down, uncomfortable.
“What?” I asked, alarmed.
He looked guilty, “I know we promised, but I kind of let the story about the time I saw the mermaid slip.”
“Cruz!” I cried in dismay, remembering the pact we’d made with Megan.
“It’s okay, really! Brad laughed at me– he thought I was making it up so I dropped it! I realized I shouldn’t have brought it up.” He bit his lip and gave me the puppy dog eyes, “I’m sorry! Please forgive me?”
I was horrified, “Swear to me that you won’t say anything else?”
His big brown eyes looked earnest, “I will! I mean I won’t! I promise… please don’t be mad.”
It bothered me, but I couldn’t stay irritated with Cruz for long. I hugged him with a sigh and got into the elevator.
On the way down I shook my head. To be perfectly honest, I couldn’t see how he’d managed to keep quiet as long as he had. Cruz had always been the type of person who blurted out whatever he was thinking, and I wondered how long it would be before Brad knew everything Cruz did. I understood how easily one could drop their guard in a moment of intimacy.
I remembered the pact we made with Megan to keep Lorelei’s existence secret. Someone once said that only way three people could keep a secret was if two of them were dead; I cringed at the thought, even as I acknowledged its truth.
When the elevator door opened, the empty garage spooked me; it felt odd not to have Boris waiting to greet me. Peering around corners suspiciously, I quickly slipped into the Range Rover, flipping the doors locked immediately.
I got to Aptos to find Abby setting up a nursery in Cruz’s old room. She smiled brightly when she saw me, tucking her hair behind her ears, more beautiful than ever. She wore her happiness like a glowing halo, and just being in her presence made me feel much better.
For an instant I wondered if I could be enhancing her natural tendency to be joyful, and I stopped myself. The constant questioning of everyone around me was like a rock in the shoe. This whole muse thing was going to take some getting used to, and it stank.
I needed to see Ethan.
Abby told me how the little feral cat Freddy had delivered a litter, but she hadn’t been able to climb up into the bushes and count the kittens. She had plans to trap them when they were weaned and bring them here to tame them and find them comfortable homes.
I nodded, “I think Stella would like that.”
She was touched, and launched into the detailed plans she had made to trap the remaining cats, returning them to their beach home after having them vaccinated, spayed and neutered.
“That way, they can live out their lives wild, and there won’t be any more poor little kittens to replace them,” she said, “There’s a vet clinic in Aptos that will do one a week for free. Dutch says he’ll help me trap them.”
“That’s a great idea!” I enthused, wondering why it never occurred to me to try and be more proactive. Abby was really blossoming into quite the organizer, and it dawned on me that after single-handedly producing a rally that got a Congresswoman elected, there was very little that she couldn’t do.
It turned out that Ethan had gone out on the boat with Dutch in the morning, so I had to wait all day to see him. I washed up and changed, stopping to tell Abby that I was off to pick up some cat food and run some errands.
I was greeted warmly when I arrived at the art gallery, and Susan was excited to show me how many paintings she’d sold. She asked me to bring more to her as soon as possible, and I agreed, thinking about getting into my new studio. I strolled through the gallery while she went to write me a check, admiring some new art. I felt comfortable there, and wondered if maybe this was what I was supposed to do.
Susan handed me a sizable check, “I’m so glad that Barbara sent me out to look at your pieces in the coffeeshop,” she beamed.
“Barbara?” I asked, confused.
“Why yes, our new Congresswoman… she was the one who told me about you.”
Wow, I thought, this fate thing was really working in my favor. If Barbara Watson hadn’t told