Beached

9- Her-

        Marla's been sitting at the pool's edge for hours, trying to coax the little girl to the surface.        

       She isn't sure whether she's more excited or surprised. Mermaids are real. Her husband said the girl was alone. They watched her for a long time, waiting to see if anyone would claim her but no one did.         

        Marla had always wanted a daughter. Always dreamed of kids. But she just wasn't built for it. She convinced herself she wasn't meant to be a mother, that she's better off the way she is. But now, she finally understood. She was meant to take care of this girl. Her husband told her not to get attached, but its far too late for that. She didn't even need to interact with the girl before she fell in love.

         The girl stares up at Marla from the pool chair Marla had sunk for her. 

        Beside Marla, she has an array of dishes. Sandwiches, cookies, fish- raw and cooked- chips, crackers, and whatever else she had in her cabinets.

        The girl slowly, cautiously propels herself up, her bright turquoise eyes peaking over the surface, her chocolate hair fanned out around her.

        "Hello," Marla smiles gently. The girl doesn't answer. "I'm Marla. What's your name?... Do you have a name?"

        Her eyes shift to the plates of food. Marla follows her line of sight. "You're hungry." She grabs a chocolate chip and leans forward, her arm outstretched.

        The girl backs up. The water ripples around her.

        "It's okay," Marla says soothingly. She takes a small bite of the cookie and offers it to the girl again. "It's good. You eat it."

        The girl propels herself forward with her tail-fin. Her webbed fingers snatch the cookie and jam it into her mouth. 

        Marla smiles. Her long hours of waiting have finally paid off.

        The girl timidly makes her way to the edge of the pool, where the food is, all the time keeping her eyes on the human right beside it.

        She takes another cookie from the tray and inches back again. 

        Marla can't help but stare at the sleek teal tail accented with metallic copper brown. The shape beneath the scales almost make it looks like the tail were wet fabric stuck to legs. But the scales too real.

        "I'd always loved the name Sarah," Marla continues, though the girl doesn't seem to comprehend, "If you don't have a name, I'd want it to be yours."

        She looks at the adult, halfway through the soggy chocolate chip as if thinking.

        Then she reaches forward and plants her palm onto Marla's temple.