When We Believed in Mermaids(27)

A good plan.



I met Gweneth on the ferry. I was pregnant with Leo, irritable in the summer heat, tired of Christmas in the summer, suddenly longing for family now that I’d be adding to it. I missed my father, weirdly, after so long. I’d found myself imagining how my mother’s eyes or sister’s mouth might look on a baby, if I would see my family in the hands or laughter of a child. I even grieved the fact that my mother would not be there when the baby was born, but perhaps all women feel that way. Pregnancy made me so emotional, in fact, that it frightened me. I constantly worried about the dire things in the world, what might befall a child I loved so intensely even before it was born.

Simon had gently pointed me toward the city and an exhibit on the Bloomsbury Group, which both eased and stimulated me, just as he’d known it would.

Gweneth sat down next to me on the ferry, a tall, slim woman with a stylish air, and offered me an ice cream. “Hokeypokey,” she said. “Can’t go wrong.”

“As far as I’m concerned, no ice cream goes wrong.” I paused. “Except coffee.”

“You’re American!”

“Canadian, actually.”

She narrowed her eyes. “That’s what you all say, though, isn’t it?”

I laughed and stuck to my made-up story. “I grew up on the west coast of British Columbia. Vancouver Island.”

“Hard to take the island out of the women,” she said, nodding. “I saw you at the exhibit. Which one is your favorite?”

“Vanessa, completely. That earth mother vibe. I want to go live in her farmhouse. You?”

“Duncan. I’m madly in love with him, of course. I know exactly why Vanessa loved him.” She licked her ice cream. “I’ve been to that farmhouse. You can feel her in every room. I wrote a dissertation on the farmhouse itself, as a design idea.”

I fell right under her spell. We talked art and artists, then books and writers, all the way back to our respective homes, hers only four blocks away from mine, and we’ve been fast friends ever since.

This morning, she’s waiting for me in our usual spot, near the water. Her long blonde hair is pulled back in a high ponytail, and she’s wearing a tank and NorShore leggings that show off her long, lean figure. “Earthquake this morning—did you feel it?” she asks.

I give a curt nod. No one outside my family knows how badly I react to tremors. “Did you hear where it was centered?”

“Offshore.” She gestures at the water sudsing restlessly, splashing hard against the land.

“Good.”

“Mm.” We set off at a brisk pace, hands swinging. Sometimes we can walk a long way without talking, but today my news is so momentous, I can’t wait. “So we bought a new house.”

“Already! The last project was only finished last week.”

“Right. But Simon heard through the grapevine that Veronica Parker’s sister died.”

She stops dead, her mouth open. “No.”

I raise my eyebrows. “Yes. You are looking at the new owner of Sapphire House.”

“You’re joking.” Her face is both blank and blazing.

“No. It’s done. He bought it outright.”

“Good God. He’s even wealthier than I thought.”

I take her upper arm and move her body toward the trail that circles up a mountain on the north head of this finger of land. “His father still owns great gobs of land.”

“Oh my God!” she cries. “You know I love her so much. You have to take me inside!”

“Of course. I want your help.”

“When can we go? Not today. I have tons of work to do. But this weekend?”

“Yes. Absolutely. I told the kids we could go over there too. You can come with us.”

“Are you flipping it?”

“No.” I pause as we start walking up the hill. The sun is bright and hot on my shoulders. “We’re going to live there.”

“No, you can’t!” Gweneth flings her arms up. “I need you here.”

“It’ll take a while.”

“Oh, but then you’ll be way over in Mount Eden, and I’ll never see you anymore.”

“No. We’ll make a date and meet in some fab coffee shop in every neighborhood in Auckland once a month.”

She takes a sip of water from her bottle. “All right. And you’ll have to have grand parties in that house.”

“I will. I promise.” We start to climb seriously and focus on our breath while we acclimate.

“Hey, hey, can we bring it down a notch?” I gasp.

“Sorry.” She slows. “We should have a welcome party or something.”

I take a long gulp from my CamelBak. “That sounds like fun. I’m not sure when we’ll fit it in, but we can try.”

“I know!” She gives me a wide-eyed glance. “When did everything get so busy? I was never so busy when I worked.”

“You didn’t have children. Each child takes approximately forty-eight hours per day.”

“Ah. That’s what it is. No one told me that.”

We hike in silence for a while. To our right stretch the harbor and the irregular coastline of the city. To the north is Rangitoto, an uninhabited volcanic island popular with tourists. In the far distance stretches a line of mountains meeting the sea, the whole scene painted in blues—blue water, blue mountains, blue skies. I never thought I would find a place more beautiful than the northern California coast, but this is outrageous. “Amazing. I never get tired of that view.”