The Fate of the Muse

chapter SIXTEEN

TABLOID





I’d forgotten how miserable an experience flying commercial could be. The food was virtually inedible, and spending endless hours squeezed between two small-talking strangers was draining. I fastened my seatbelt to prepare for landing, thankful that the long ordeal was finally coming to an end. Never in a million years could I imagine Evie tolerating it, and I gained a greater understanding of what she meant when she said that money could smooth away life’s little “difficulties”.

But no, I thought, I still rejected her plans for me; as trite as it sounded, money could never buy any real happiness. If Ethan were here by my side, instead of the annoying sunburned car salesman, I’d be blissfully happy. I’d cheerfully endure any mode of transportation to be next to him–even an Indian train. I closed my eyes, imagining the last time we kissed through the fence, and I missed him terribly.

I had plenty of time to think about the surfing mishap on the long flight, and I’d come to a frightening conclusion. Kimo was no fool when it came to surfing. He couldn’t have possibly thought that Matt was competent enough to surf in those conditions. There was only one obvious answer. I must have done it again.

Somehow, I had unwittingly enhanced the very characteristics that made Kimo such a great athlete– his boldness, his risk taking, and his utter lack of fear. Gabe knew that taking us out in those extreme conditions was a bad idea, and if it hadn’t have been for the help from the beautiful twin mermaids, it would have ended even more tragically than it did. My peculiar talent nearly got Kimo killed, and I crossed my fingers that Matt was going to be alright.

Kimo had behaved irrationally, and I remembered the manic gleam in his eye just before we set out. I should have known– should have realized that I was driving him to foolhardy recklessness. I had behaved selfishly, failing to recognize the dangerous combination of Kimo’s fanaticism and Matt’s egotism.

I was simply too caught up in my own desperate need to notice it. Or, even more frightening, it occurred to me that maybe I’d noticed but I simply didn’t care. Kimo had said I was lucky, but all I brought him was bad luck.

Then I thought about Ethan. He’d always been a hard worker, but ever since I’d returned from my kidnapping he’d stepped it up to near superhuman levels. Could that be a side effect from hanging around with me? It was possible that I was enhancing his natural qualities too, and I frowned. I didn’t want to turn him into a workaholic.

I longed to see him, yearning for the comfort of being close to him. After our last phone conversation, I felt like a crack had formed in the bond that held us together, and it frightened me. I reached up to touch my aquamarine, raising it to my lips, clinging to the memory of how at peace I was when we were together. I had to stop running away. I needed Ethan, and I would be a fool to withdraw and let Amber come between us.

I decided to let go of my fear and find a way to focus only on him. There was no point in getting angry. After all, I couldn’t blame her for wanting the same thing I did. I never would have been foolish enough to leave him in the first place. Don’t get mad… get Ethan, I thought with a wry smile. I just hoped I hadn’t blown it already.

It was a foggy evening in San Francisco when I stepped out of the terminal into the dense night air. I sighed with relief to see Cruz waiting for me by the curb, leaning against yet another one of Evie’s sports cars.

“You got my message,” I gave him a big hug.

“Did you hear the news?” he asked excitedly.

“What news?” I looked around nervously.

“Megan’s song is all over the radio!” he grinned like a pirate, “It’s a number one hit!”

“I know! Shayla and I heard it in Hawaii.”

“Did you hear about the election? Mission accomplished! Mom’s totally psyched!”

I smiled, “Yeah.” I wasn’t used to seeing Cruz so animated.

“Come on,” he said, opening the car door for me, “You’re just in time! Brad and I are celebrating Megan’s song and the election over dinner. You can tell us all about how Shayla did in Hawaii… Oh my God! Did I mention that Brad’s a gourmet chef too?”

I climbed in, happy to see Cruz so bubbly. I needed a little dose of pure, unadulterated joy.

We got to the apartment to find Megan and Jamal sitting at the dining room table with Brad, laughing and talking. The place smelled like delicious food cooking, and I realized how long it had been since I ate. Megan jumped up to greet me with a warm hug, and I told her how excited we’d been to hear her song on the beach in Hawaii.

“I still can’t believe this is all really happening!” she said, tossing her red curls in disbelief.

“I can!” I smiled, “I’ll never forget the first time I heard you sing.”

It had been a momentous day, for in addition to revealing Megan’s formidable talent, it was also the first time I’d spoken to Lorelei. That day seemed like a lifetime ago, and I could hardly believe that less than a year had passed. I looked at Megan and Cruz, realizing that we had all completely transformed; totally changed, and yet somehow, we were more our true selves.

Revealed.

Megan told us all about the promotional tour she was leaving for the next morning, excitedly running down a list of interviews she’d been scheduled to give and naming the places she’d be performing. I could see Jamal watching her adoringly, and she took his hand under the table. I missed Ethan with a painful ache in my throat.

“I hope you like Italian,” Brad said to me, getting up to check the oven, patting Cruz’s back affectionately. I was really starting to feel like a fifth wheel.

He returned with a beautiful platter of stuffed manicotti swimming in spicy marinara. It looked like a picture from a food magazine, and smelled like Italy. We all dove in, eating with gusto and talking about Megan’s itinerary. I told Brad how happy we were that his Aunt would be working so hard to save the farms.

“I’m surprised. She’s really gotten into this whole environmental thing lately,” he said, “I’m just glad she can help.”

It was going on midnight by the time we finished, and I could barely stifle my yawns. Megan and Jamal got up to leave, arm in arm, and Cruz rushed over to present Megan with some outfits he’d tailored for her to wear on her concert tour. Her eyes widened with delight, and she kissed both his cheeks with loud smacks.

Cruz and I walked the happy couple out the door, turning away as they stopped to kiss at the elevator.

“Aint love grand,” said Cruz with a sigh.

I snorted caustically, remembering all the times he complained when Ethan and I got a little too affectionate around him. Now I missed Ethan even more, and considered making the long drive home.

“No way, it’s too late,” Cruz said. “He’s probably fast asleep anyway… Aren’t farmers all like, ‘early to bed, early to rise’ and stuff?”

I rolled my eyes at him, but I knew he was right. I helped clear the table and clean up, bidding the guys goodnight and stumbling off to my room. I thought about my new studio waiting for me in Santa Cruz and planned to show it to Ethan, thinking I should fix him a surprise dinner sometime. I drifted off to sleep, imagining being alone with him there, wondering how I should go about making him forget all about Amber.

It was time to fight fire with fire.





The next morning I woke to a pounding on my bedroom door.

“Marina! Get up!” It was Cruz, and he sounded almost hysterical.

I sat up groggily, rubbing my eyes, “Wh- what?”

“You have to see this! Come quick!”

I got to the kitchen to find Brad and Cruz at the counter with a laptop open. Cruz looked up at me with wide excited eyes, “Why didn’t you say anything?”

This can’t be good, I thought, slumping onto a barstool. Brad turned the screen towards me and played a clip from an entertainment website. They were reporting on the near fatal surfing accident of America’s hottest young actor, Matt Stone. I sat up, alarmed, while a series of still shots of Shayla performing CPR on Matt were displayed. I was relieved to see none of myself. I should have known better, I thought, remembering the paparazzi in the bushes. Fortunately, the main focus of the story seemed to be how Matt’s life had been saved by a Sports Illustrated swimsuit model. Pure tabloid candy.

“Did it say if he’s going to be alright?” I looked up to ask Cruz and Brad, searching their eyes. They both stared at me with surprise.

Finally Brad answered, “Y-Yeah, he’s in the hospital for observation… They said the movie production would be delayed a few weeks.”

“So you were there yesterday? With Matt Stone?” Cruz looked incredulous.

“Uhm, yes… We went surfing.”

“And what, it just slipped your mind?” Cruz retorted.

I sighed, casting him a sideways look, “It all happened so fast. He showed up at the photo shoot and we decided to go surfing the next day… There was an accident.”

Cruz poured me a cup of coffee, sitting by my side excitedly, “Do you see what I mean about Marina?” he said to Brad, “She has crazy weird luck! Ever since you came to live with us it’s been one thing after another!” He grabbed my arm, “Now tell me everything… What was Matt Stone like?”

I explained that we only met him because they hired some local surfers for the photo-shoot, and that he had stopped by with Kimo to check out the swimsuit models.

“Kimo– Kimo Watanabe?” asked Brad.

Cruz told him that I’d met Kimo while surfing at the point, and that we were friends. Brad was more impressed by the fact that I knew Kimo than anything, and peppered me with questions about what it was like to surf the big waves in Hawaii. He told me he’d grown up surfing, spending summers at his dad’s beach house, but he hadn’t been out in a long time.

“I miss it,” he said wistfully, and I smiled sympathetically. I knew how that went.

“You two should go surfing together,” said Cruz, beaming. He elbowed me, “Marina has a bad habit of going out alone.”

We talked about going surfing the following weekend, and Brad seemed eager to show me a favorite spot from his childhood. Cruz continued to question me about my dealings with the movie star but I glossed over the details, and was able to remain vague enough to avoid both lying and telling the entire truth.

I remembered Cruz’s belated birthday gift and pulled it out, putting an end to the questioning. He gushed over each item Shayla and I had cobbled together while Brad translated the French paper.

Cruz looked at me with starry eyes, “Can you believe he speaks French too?”

“I went to boarding school,” Brad explained.

I was eager to get going, gathering my things and asking Cruz if he would walk me out to the elevator. When the doors opened I paused for a moment, “Cruz, please don’t say anything to 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 Susan about my paintings I never would have met her, and Cruz never would have met Bradley. Most importantly, she might not have gotten elected, and Lue’s farmland would still be in jeopardy.

I was feeling satisfied with myself, and more positive about everything when I stopped at the little beach market for a big bag of cat food. I looked up to see a brightly colored tabloid by the checkout stand.

“Swimsuit Model Gives Kiss Of Life To Matt Stone!” was the headline, and the picture of Shayla bending over Matt’s unconscious body was the same as the one I saw on the internet earlier. A movie star, a beautiful girl, and a tragic accident– the story was custom made to sensationalize. I picked it up, looking around guiltily, and flipped it open. The next picture I saw made me gasp in shock.

It was a photo of the helicopter, and Matt’s stretcher was being hoisted onto it with Kimo right behind, obviously shaken and facing the camera as he climbed aboard. Standing in the crowd right behind Kimo, clear as day, was me. My heart sank.

It wasn’t like I planned on keeping the events of the past few days from Ethan; I simply wanted to break it to him on my own terms. Now my hand was going to be forced, for someone would surely bring it to his attention, if only because of hometown heroine Shayla. I bought the cat food and left, feeling uneasy.

I was upset again, and there was no Ethan around to pacify me. I wanted to go surfing, but I needed to stay focused, to be there when he got back. I fought to be patient, and decided to go home, grab a book and wait. When I heard Dutch get in I jumped up, hurrying to see if Ethan was with him.

I almost ran headlong into Abby, who was rushing from the kitchen to throw her arms around Dutch. She was always relieved when he made it home safely.

“Hi Marina, welcome back,” he smiled at me over Abby’s shoulder.

“Hi Dutch,” I looked out front, “Where’s Ethan?”

“I dropped him off at the apartment. He said he had some work to do.”

“Oh,” my voice was small. He must know that I’d gotten back by now. I retreated to my room, pacing nervously. I’d been trying to call him at home, but there was no answer. I sat down to read some more, but it was pointless. Frustrated, I set out to find him.

His truck wasn’t at his apartment or Lue’s farm, and I drove around aimlessly, looking in the neighborhoods where he did the bulk of his landscaping work. The longer I looked, the more my anxiety grew, and I found myself nervously chewing my nails. I finally went back to his apartment and sat in my car, fighting the urge to go surfing with all my might. Just when I was about to give up and give in, he pulled into the parking lot, and I jumped out to race towards him.

He moved slowly when he stepped out of the truck, and he didn’t smile when he looked up to see me coming. I stopped in my tracks and then my heart followed suit. He wore the same cold, hard look on his face I’d seen before.

“What do you want?” he asked angrily.

There was only one explanation, and I could scarcely believe how unlucky I was.

“You saw the stupid picture, didn’t you?”

I could see the muscles in his jaw clench, and he turned away from me to walk towards the stairs.

“Ethan?”

He kept walking, and I trailed after him.

“Wait!” I called out, “You’re being unfair!”

He stopped in his tracks, turning slowly to face me, “You lied to me! You could have just told me that you wanted to see him again.”

“No! I mean, I didn’t plan anything! I was there for Shayla! We just ran into him!”

“And I’m supposed to believe that?” he spat out the last word.

“Yes,” my voice cracked.

“I don’t want to talk about it. Just leave me alone… alright?” He sounded serious, and I watched him trudge up the stairs, fatigue in every step.

“Ethan, listen to me!”

“No,” he said, “Go away.”

I stood there, stunned, flinching at the sound of the the door slamming shut. Evie said that when he told me “no” I could be sure that his feelings for me were real. Isn’t that ironic, I thought, feeling anything but loved at the moment.

I started up the stairs after him, but stopped, afraid. I remembered how angry I was when I caught Ethan in a lie, and I cringed. I really didn’t want to get yelled at right now, especially when I didn’t do anything wrong. The injustice of it was overwhelming.

I turned to see the sunlight playfully dancing on the sea, and I had a clear image of Lorelei, her innocent smile beckoning me.

“Coming,” I whispered.