Elandria slid down the wall she was leaning against, her bottom landing against the floor with a little thump.
Corallyn’s lips parted in shock. “I can’t believe she just gave it all away like that.”
“I thought she found the term ‘mermaid’ offensive and erroneous,” Elandria signed with her hands. “What is she doing? She is usually so tactful. She used to be a diplomat.”
“She cursed too,” Corallyn noted. “She never curses. I think we should get ready to leave. It’s a good thing we didn’t unpack or get too comfortable.”
The girls were interrupted by a great howl of laughter traveling up from downstairs. Corallyn and Elandria stared at each other in surprise as they listened to Trevain’s gigantic guffaw until it petered down into uncontrollable chuckles.
“It’s just like Viso said,” Corallyn realized after a moment of confusion. “He didn’t even believe her.”
Downstairs, Brynne’s face had been etched with shock at the other woman’s statement. They had stood in a moment of stalemated silence until Trevain had begun to laugh in his good-natured and infectious way. Finally, Brynne felt a smile coming to her own lips, and felt rather silly for being so aggressive to the beautiful young girl. She vaguely wondered why she had been so unwelcoming; there was an unpleasant combination of grief and envy in her chest.
Brynne realized that it had been a long time since a woman had stood up to her like Aazuria just had—perhaps no female had ever done so. Brynne was used to battling with males, and she was used to winning. She had perfected the art of intimidation at a young age, and it had served her well. She argued ridiculous things, claiming that grass was blue while the sky was red. She would have argued for milk being purple if it suited her need to overpower someone. The arguments were always about the same thing for Brynne; establishing and emphasizing her dominance in all of her relationships.
“Well, Aazuria, I guess you win,” she said reaching out to shake the woman’s hand in a gesture of apology. “I can’t compete with a certified sea-wench like yourself. I’m sorry for being such a bitch; I just went a bit crazy after learning about Leo. I really liked that kid, even though he was a bit of a greenhorn. If he was half as tough as you are, he probably wouldn’t be six fathoms deep right about now.”
Aazuria raised her eyebrows at being called a sea-wench but she returned the woman’s handshake and nodded head in acceptance of her apology. Trevain had been observing the interaction between the women curiously. He was used to Brynne’s rough ways, but very impressed and amazed by the graceful vigor that Aazuria had battled her with. The girl was young, but she could stand her ground.
Brynne turned to look at Trevain, and lowered her eyes shamefully. “I’m sorry, Captain. I just had to let off a little steam. I’m fine now, and reporting for duty. Let’s go catch some crabs.”
“Brynne,” said Captain Murphy quietly. “I understand if the accident has made you angry enough to want to quit. I can pay you for the portion of the season that you worked, and that will be that. I think you know, however, from experience, that women aren’t generally treated very well on most other fishing boats. You’ll have to choose your next employer carefully. I’ll give you the best of recommendations, of course.”
Brynne crossed her arms across her chest, exhaling heavily. “I don’t want to quit, Captain. Our crew is a family. I just don’t want this to happen again. I feel like I just lost a brother. We’ve always heard about this happening to other crews, but it has never happened to us. I wasn’t even there! Goddammit! It’s just… I only learned about it a few minutes ago at the docks, and I haven’t been able to deal with it yet.”
“If you need to take time off, take as much as you need,” Trevain said. “The men haven’t been dealing with it well either.”
“No,” Brynne said, her voice cracking. She shook her head violently. “I’m not letting anything else go wrong. You boys need me to keep an eye on you out there.”
“Yeah. We do,” Trevain said, slapping Brynne on the back in a companionable fashion.
“No more weekends in Miami for me,” she joked. “Have either of you been to Florida? It’s far too warm, and I simply don’t have the right wardrobe; definitely not my cup of tea. My cousin’s wedding was beautiful though.”
Just then, Mr. Fiskel entered the room, “Captain Murphy, Miss Aazuria, lunch is served. I heard Miss Brynne’s voice (it was rather loud) and I set another place at the table. We’re having lobster tails!”
“Sounds delicious, Mr. Fiskel! You’re a savior,” Trevain said with a smile. “Could you do me a favor and go upstairs to—”
“No,” Aazuria interrupted, placing a hand on Trevain’s arm. She sent him a secretive look before turning to the brunette. “Brynne, do you know where Callder’s room is?”
“Yeah,” she answered suspiciously, “why do you ask?”
“You seem like the type of woman who would know where men’s bedrooms are. Would you please be a dear and go wake Callder to tell him that lunch is ready?”
Brynne looked as though she wanted to hit Aazuria, but she quickly gathered her composure and turned to Trevain with reddening cheeks. “Where on earth did you find this creature? She looks like she’s eighteen but she speaks like she’s eighty. Goddamned sea-wench!”
The brunette continued to sputter curses as she marched up the stairs to perform the dreaded task of waking a very hung-over Callder. Trevain had to try very hard to keep from laughing at how much Brynne’s feathers had been ruffled.
“I am sorry,” Aazuria said, turning to him. “I just had to get her back for the virgin comment. Goodness, that was rather fun.”
“You’ve got a legendary sense of humor,” Trevain responded with a chuckle, shaking his head. “No one ever stands up to her like that.”
“She may be a fiery fisherwoman, but she is still just a woman. I know her type. She thinks because she is the only girl tough enough to hang out with the guys that she can disrespect them as much as she likes. This probably grew from issues with her father. Am I right?”
“Spot on. It seems that no one I know has a good relationship with their father,” Trevain remarked. “Luckily, bad parentage affects people in very different ways. In your case it seems to have made you stronger.”
Aazuria glanced up at him judiciously. “What about you, Trevain? Have you ever had children?”
“No. I’ve always wanted to, but…” Trevain’s brow furrowed and he cleared his throat. “I guess my life didn’t work out that way. Probably for the best; as you can see, I’m hardly capable of taking care of a boatful of men. There’s no way I’d be able to shepherd little rugrats away from danger.”
“You do take care of them,” she assured him. “The whole boatload of men and one eccentric, maniacal woman.”
Trevain grinned again. “You had me fooled, Aazuria. I thought you were so innocent when I first saw you, but if you can handle yourself around that banshee then I’m not worried about anyone taking advantage of you. Ever.”
Aazuria’s cheeks felt the strength of her smile. The strength of her smile led to embarrassment which led to heat flushing her cheeks. She turned away from him, murmuring, “I should go and collect my sisters for lunch.”
“Wait,” Trevain said, moving close to her. “Brynne and Callder and I are probably going to head out to work directly after lunch. We will be away for a few days, depending on the weather. I just wanted to mention one thing to you in private before I leave.”
“What is it?” she asked, searching his eyes for clues. She wondrously watched the delicate skin around his eyes crinkle into tender lines of hilarity.
“You were right, my dear. The sea is azure.”
* * *
Brynne’s heavy footsteps echoed through the hallway as she trudged towards Callder’s room. “Maniacal banshee!” she grumbled. “Call me more flattering names as soon as I turn the corner, why don’t you? Brynne doesn’t have ears!” Even though she was making good progress in convincing herself that she was upset with Aazuria and Trevain, she was mostly upset with herself. For a woman in her mid-thirties she sure could be immature at times.
“That’s Calzone’s influence on me,” she told herself. Then she cringed and made a face at the sound of the old nickname. It exited her lips so naturally, creating one more reason for her to be ashamed and upset with herself.
Brynne jumped in fright when a small head poked out from one of the many doors in the corridor. She caught her breath and looked at the child to make sure it was a human being and not a ghostly apparition. Trevain’s house was usually so empty that it was shocking to find anything or anyone in it—this was her second such surprise for the day.
“Hi, there,” Brynne said, once she was convinced that the child was real. “What’s your name, sweetie?”
Corallyn sent the woman an appraising glance. “You were a total dick to my sister.”
Brynne winced at hearing such words leaving a child’s mouth. “Hey, I’m sorry…”
“You’re ignorant. Where I come from, for speaking to a Vellamo like that, you might have been beheaded. Or worse.” With that, Corallyn withdrew into the room and slammed the door vehemently.
Brynne flinched again at the loud noise. “A Vella-what?” Her brow knitted in confusion, and she wondered what kind of books Aazuria was letting her little sister read. Shrugging at the child’s unusual behavior, she continued down the hall to Callder’s room. The hallway seemed to stretch forever. When she finally stood before the door, she knocked hesitantly. Gone was the boisterous Brynne who had viciously rung Trevain’s doorbell a dozen times within ten seconds. She swallowed, feeling more uncomfortable to be standing at this door than she had expected; and not just because Callder was cantankerous when hung over.
She cleared her throat and shook her hands out at the wrists to release her misgivings. She knocked on the door again forcefully, in a decidedly more Brynne-like manner. “Hey, Callder! Wake up. Lunch and work!”
“No!” was the grouchy shout heard from the inside.
“Don’t make me come in there!” Brynne yelled back. “I will kick your lazy ass right out of that bed.”
“Please do,” was the muffled invitation which filtered through the door and possibly blankets.
Brynne immediately flushed. “Worst day ever,” she whispered to herself. She took several deep breaths before turning the doorknob. “Callder Murphy! You useless layabout! This is why we broke up.”
The man had been facing the curtains. Now, he shifted under the blanket to turn and consider her. Brynne felt a twinge of dismay when she saw the red puffiness around his eyes. He looked far more hung over than usual, and she could tell that he had been crying.
“Wanna come help me wake up?” Callder asked as he stretched.
“No!” Brynne immediately felt her pity disappear. “We have to get out on the water. Some of us adults actually need to pay our bills and can’t depend on big brother to do everything for us.”
Callder rubbed his eyes and yawned loudly. “But you could. Come live with me and Trevain will take care of your stuff too. I miss you.”
“My answer is still the same. Unlike you, I have this little thing called pride, and a few other little things called goals. There’s more to life than staying in bed all day.”
“I could change your mind in about ten seconds,” Callder said with a toothy grin. He lifted the blanket to expose his impressive arousal before pouting melodramatically. “I’ve got this little thing called morning wood. Bring that pretty ass over here and help me get rid of this! It hurts.”
“You filthy pervert!” Brynne said, crossing her arms. She assumed the meanest look she could manage to hide the smile that threatened to appear. “We’re co-workers, Callder, and this is sexual harassment. Get your lazy ass out of bed and get dressed!”
“Just go away,” Callder said grumpily, replacing the blanket and turning to face the window.
Brynne heard the note of sadness in his voice, and released a sigh. Against her better judgment, she crossed the room and sat on the side of the bed. “What’s wrong?”
“Don’t wanna work today,” Callder admitted. He lifted a hand to scratch behind his ear. “I’m not really that hung over. Just don’t wanna go out on that boat.”
“But we need you out there. We’re a man down.”
“Is that the only thing you need me for?” he asked quietly. He glanced at Brynne briefly, and for once there was serious sorrow speckling his warm brown eyes. “I have a really bad feeling.”
“Everything’s going to be fine,” Brynne said. She felt the familiar sensation of mothering Callder, as though he were six feet and two inches worth of pure, giant child.
He turned away and grunted. “The Magician stinks of death. I can’t stop thinking about it. Just find some bright-eyed young kid to do my job, and I guarantee he’ll do it better even.”
“It’s going to be tough on all of us to get back to work today. Please don’t make it harder on us.”
“That’s all I’m good for. I’m a fuck-up, remember?”
“Calz—Callder. Please. It comforts Trevain to have you around. You relieve everyone’s stress with your trashy, tasteless jokes. Don’t flake out on us; not today of all days.” Seeing that her speech was not having the desired effect, she knew that it was necessary to pull the woman-card. She placed a hand on his arm tenderly. “I need you out there.”
“Leo was ten times the man that I am,” Callder said gruffly. “It should have been me. I should be dead.”
“No.” Brynne’s touch changed from affectionate to reproachful instantaneously as she slapped him upside the head. “Don’t say things like that!”
“What do you care?”
“I care.”
“Then get back together with me,” Callder said, propping himself up on his elbow. “How many years are you going to make me beg? I miss you.”
Brynne pulled her lips into a tight line. She never knew what to say. Sometimes she wanted to relax and agree more than anything, but a small part of her still hoped that she could find a better man—someone who felt less like dead weight. “Let’s talk about it when we get back,” she said. “For now, we need to focus on getting through this day. The guys are miserable.”
Pushing his torso fully upright, Callder ran a hand through his messy brown hair. “So I guess you need me to rant about booze and whores to cheer ’em up?”
Brynne laughed. He always could make her laugh. “Exactly.”