Selkie

Chapter Six

Chapter Six

The morning dawned clear and bright. Looking out the window, I could see a large garden that would need to be planted soon. I wondered who kept the place in such good shape. Why would anyone bother? 

I am not a morning person by nature, but I remember throwing back my coverlet and almost skipping to the bathroom. It wasn't even 6 am but the grass outside my window was only just beginning to turn green, and I could already tell it would be beautiful in the summer. I was... hopeful.

Have you ever seen a washroom with a pink sink, pink toilet, and pink bathtub? The Toilet seat even had a fuzzy cover on it - also pink. My Mom - the one who raised me - would have been absolutely appalled. She'd made updating our house an art form and I'm pretty sure she's still allergic to wallpaper.

Downstairs, after heating up the breakfast sandwich and coffee Brett got for me, I secured my hair in a high ponytail, pulled it through my ball cap.

I've mentioned already that I have a fair complexion. The word I used was pale, but I need you to understand that I cannot handle the sun. I am not exaggerating when I say it doesn't take long for my skin to crisp up to a bright red. So I slathered my skin in SPF60, gave myself a quick pep talk about meeting strangers, and set off in search of Tirecraft.

The walk was lovely. Really lovely. The house - my house - was across the street from a bucolic little church and a well-kept graveyard. Behind it was an elementary school. I couldn't help imagining growing up there with all that space. That sweet little community in a river valley? So close to the water.

I imagined walking with my Grandmother to buy groceries or get ice cream.

It took less time than I expected to get to the shop and as promised, Steve was waiting at the front desk. 

Steve was around 6ft 3 with shockingly red hair and a smattering of freckles that scrunched up with his good-natured grin.

"Brett said you were pretty," he drawled, "but I wasn't expecting a supermodel to walk through my door first thing." He was charming in an obvious way. 

"This here is a beautiful 1976 Oldsmobile Cutless. This car was well looked after before she came to me but since I've had her, she has been at the car spa. She runs like a dream, and you can barely smell the decades of cigarettes from when Mr. Thompson used to take her out on long drives up the Alaska Highway."

"That is a very pretty, very old car. Have you got anything from the last five years?"

"Oh, Edith, you wound me. You don't want one of those new fancy cars. You want something with some story to it! How about this 1989 Jeep Comanche?" He slapped his hand down on the hood of an emerald green truck.

"I like the colour."

"I bought this pretty little thing just about a month ago, and me and the boys have all but rebuilt her insides. She runs smoother than a popsicle on a hot day."

"I bet she does, Steve. I just think I'd be more comfortable in something like that." I pointed a few cars over to where an unassuming Honda Civic sat with a reasonable price tag in the window. It was only a few years old and looked reliable to me.

"You don't want a Honda." His dismayed look almost broke my heart.

"What's wrong with a Honda? I've been driving my CR-V back home for 12 years, and have never had a problem."

"Exactly." He put his arm around me, steering me inside to grab the keys. "I'll never see you."

"Steve," I asked sweetly, "this isn't a car dealership, is it?"

"Oh goodness no." He laughed magnanimously, "I just like to keep a few extra cars around."

"Are you selling me your own car?"

"Of course not. I'm selling you my Mom's car."

Steve was a charmer. I signed the papers right then and there, and he let me drive my new car out of the parking lot. I sure hope he was kidding about it being his Mom's. 

Steve's flirting made me think of letterman jackets and golden retrievers. I didn't hate it. I have to be honest with you though, I liked Steve's flirting but I loved that little car. The best part was that because I was clever enough not to buy one of his older models, I could plug my phone in immediately and use the GPS to take me to a grocery store. Freedom.

After securing the necessaries: coffee, bananas, peanut butter, milk, eggs, and potato chips, I drove back to the house and unpacked.

There is something grounding about unpacking groceries. I put the cheerios on top of the fridge and the coffee on the counter and was just starting to think about scrambled eggs for dinner when I noticed something just outside the kitchen window. In the summer I'm sure it would be a riot of colourful flowers but right then, what I saw was something small and smooth that seemed to glitter in the sun. 

I went outside to get a closer look. Even this early in the year I could tell that this flower bed was very different from my Mom's roses. It was wilder but no less cared for. I could see the organization of it. The design. It was the kind of garden a fairy would live in and right there in the middle, was a small statue of a seal, glinting in the sun.

It's little head was tipped back as if it were stretching and its front flippers sunk deep into the soil.

I don't know how long I stayed out there, crouching in front of that flower bed and looking at that silly little statue but, I remember thinking that I could almost see myself living in Taylor. Making a home - seamlessly sliding into the rhythms of the community. Maybe someone here could tell me about my family. Maybe I could date someone like Brett or even Steve. Get married one day. Build a life. I was idly  imagining giant children stomping through my pretty little kitchen when a shadow crossed mine.

"New in town?"

I looked up and locked eyes with a blue-eyed man in a clergy collar.