Remarkably Bright Creatures

For another thing: he’s about to do a face-to-face with his maybe dad.

And for a third thing: He’s held an actual job for weeks now. He doesn’t even hate it. Who knew? Chopping up fish guts. And cleaning! Not glamorous, but the solitude suits him, especially in the evening. Half the time, he’s the only one at the aquarium when he cleans. On those nights, he smacks the vending machine until it drops something, a package of cookies or stale snack cakes that nobody wants to buy anyway, pops in his earbuds, and zones out while he washes the floors. The other half of the time, the weird lady is there. Tova. She keeps showing up, even though she’s supposed to be on medical leave. Cameron promised he wouldn’t rat her out. He doesn’t mind having her around. Her obsession with that octopus is bizarre, and he hasn’t made much progress making friends with Marcellus, but her company is weirdly enjoyable.

Behind him, a screen door bangs. A second later, Ethan appears around the back side of the camper. A faded Led Zeppelin T-shirt a little tight across his torso. He squints at Cameron. “Lovely mornin’, innit?”

“Yeah. And guess what?” Cameron recounts his Simon Brinks discovery and subsequent conversation with Avery. Ethan nods.

“Well, let’s go, then. We’ll take my truck.”

Cameron tilts his head. “What?”

“Your ears full of porridge, laddie? I said we’ll take my truck!”

“You want to come with me?”

“A’course I do! You think I’d let you smack that wanker around alone?” He beams. “Sounds like a right good time, if you ask me.”

“Okay,” says Cameron slowly. “We’ll go together.”

“Gorgeous up that way, anyway, ’specially this time of year. We’ll make it an adventure, yeah? I’ll be your tour guide.”

Tour guide?

“In fact,” Ethan continues, “there’s a great little spot for fish ’n’ chips off the highway on the way up.”

Fish and chips? Who cares about fish and chips? “Fine. But first we go find Brinks.”

Ethan chuckles. “Extortion first, fish and chips after.”

CAMERON STILL CAN’T seem to wrap his head around the shape of the sea here. It’s like a monster with hundreds of long fingers is gripping the edge of the continent, tendrils of deep blue cutting channels through the dark green countryside in every unexpected way. He finds himself constantly surprised by the presence of the water on the left side of the car, then around a curve and on the right side, then over one bridge after another (how many times can a person cross the same body of water?) as Ethan drives along a never-ending two-lane road, the shoulder speckled by bait shops and gas stations and shabby-looking little restaurants that don’t inspire confidence in the fish-and-chips plan.

“Won’t be too much longer now,” Ethan shouts, in direct defiance of the tiny map on his dash-mounted phone, which states their arrival time an hour from now. He’s got his brawny elbow slung like a freckled sausage on the rim of the open window, having insisted on keeping the windows down, on account of it being “such a lovely day for a drive.” The fifty-mile-an-hour wind and Ethan’s accent make it hard to hear.

Clutching the class ring in his damp palm, he sketches out the logistics of his impending confrontation in his mind for the thousandth time.

Here’s one way it can go. And maybe this is the ideal way. Simon Brinks will be shocked to see him. His mouth will drop open as he recognizes Cameron immediately. Although he might be the kind of douchebag who will try to deny it, Cameron’s got the photographic evidence in his pocket. And then Brinks fesses up to everything.

The less-than-ideal way involves Brinks regarding him through narrow eyes. Talking right off the bat about involving attorneys, DNA tests. Keeping his lips zipped about anything until everything is proven.

But then, what if it is proven, and Brinks wants a relationship? That’s what Elizabeth keeps saying when she calls to check in. Elizabeth seems convinced that Simon has some sort of latent paternal instinct that will be inspired by the appearance of his long-lost son. Like something out of a movie. But life isn’t some cheesy Hollywood script.

Aunt Jeanne keeps hammering on the relationship thing, too, although Cameron suspects that, deep down, she’s skeptical that a person like Simon Brinks would have dated her sister. But last time they chatted, when Cameron mentioned that he’d be on the next plane home if he could get Brinks to cut him a check, she’d sighed disapprovingly. Stay up there awhile if you need to, Aunt Jeanne had said. Bought that ridiculous camper, might as well get some use out of it. Besides, life there seems to suit you.

Well, that much is true.

But Cameron doesn’t want a relationship with any would-be father. He wants the eighteen years of child support that this shifty asshole never paid. Hell, Cameron would accept a onetime payment. Ten grand? Twenty? He can send it directly to Aunt Jeanne. Cameron owes her a mint for everything he put her through over the years, not to mention the money she fronted him for the camper. He’s already paid back almost half, but it’s still a chunk of change.

“Aye, look!” Ethan brakes slightly, gesturing to a dirt road turning off the highway. “You ever want to go whale-watching, there’s a brilliant spot down there. Took a lady friend once. We saw orcas frolicking around like wee kittens. Quite a sight. Ah, the love we made that night was—”

“Uh, thanks.” Cameron cuts him off. What is with old people in love? “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Well, I’m just saying. I know you’ve got that lass.”

“I don’t think Avery wants to drive all the way up here to look at whales.”

“Might not knock it till you try it, eh? They’re majestic creatures.” Ethan turns and winks, and the truck drifts across the center line just as an oncoming car pops around the curve up ahead. He jerks back into the proper lane just in time. “Bugger! Eyes on the road. Anyway, there’s a nice spit of sand there, too, great for beachcombing. Lots of starfish and sand dollars.”

“If I wanted to show Avery starfish and sand dollars, why wouldn’t I just bring her to work?” Cameron points out dryly. “We have the largest collection of native echinoderms in the state. That’s what Tova says, anyway.”

Ethan’s head swivels and his gaze fixes on Cameron for an alarming stretch of time. His frizzy beard twitches, like he’s biting his lip underneath. Cameron feels himself grip the edge of the bench seat. What happened to eyes on the road?

Finally, the big man’s attention snaps back toward the dashboard. They ride in silence for quite a while. His voice is low when he says, “You’ve met Tova Sullivan?”

Shit. The secret. No one is supposed to know about Tova coming to the aquarium. Not for the first time, Cameron wonders why it’s such a big deal. After thinking it over for a minute, he decides that it shouldn’t be. Old people are weird sometimes. And why would Ethan care anyway? After a pause, he answers, “Yeah, Tova comes by once in a while to help out.”

“I thought she was on medical leave.”

“She is. Forget I said anything.”

“Is she all right?” There’s a quiet reverence to Ethan’s voice.

“She’s fine. Her foot’s getting better, I think.”

“Very glad to hear that,” Ethan mumbles. His ruddy cheeks are even redder than usual.

A grin spreads across Cameron’s face. “Oh my God. You like her.”

“Well, who wouldn’t like her?”

“That’s pure bullshit. It’s written all over you.”

Now Ethan’s ears are also deep red. “She’s a lovely lady.”

“‘She’s a lovely lady,’” Cameron repeats, imitating the Scot. He reaches over and gives Ethan a little smack on the shoulder. “Come on, bro. Let’s hear it. You two have a history, or what?”

“A history?” Ethan’s mouth presses into a serious line. “I’d never pursue a married lady. Which is what Mrs. Sullivan was, up till recently.”

“Oh.” Cameron slumps. “I didn’t know that.”

Shelby Van Pelt's books