Everblue

Chapter 12 - Fin

FIN

 

The smell of breakfast roused me from my sleep. Groggy and unaware, I popped open one eye and peered out the window. Where redwoods and sunlight should have been, fish swam by in the dimly lit water.

"Ugh," I put my head in my hands.

My throbbing legs, covered in scales, were unsure if they should remain appendages or fuse into a fin. Mom's blithe song stopped me from my rant. I rolled out of the hammock and headed towards the lovely sounds and smells drawing me to the kitchen.

On the wall, the world clock said the time was noon in Tahoe. Underneath, an illuminated section highlighted where the sun shone over a replica of the earth with little black dots to show all the gates into Natatoria across the world. Homesick, my eyes zeroed in on the one I cared about and wondered what Colin was up to. Probably still trying to figure out where I'd hidden my clothes, no doubt.

Mom turned to me with a grin before adjusting the overhead mirror to shine sunlight onto her workspace.

"These burners are sure different," she said as she flipped pancakes in one pan, and stirred scrambled eggs in another over a sparkling new lava-heated stovetop. "I'm having a hard time judging how hot they are."

I bent down to inspect the lava bubbling under the gel covers of each hot plate. Mom lifted her hand and brushed a few damp tendrils of her hair aside. On the skin of her ring finger, the ornate tattoo I rarely saw caught the light—the mark of her promising to Dad. Normally, her diamond wedding ring covered the ink that she said magically appeared shortly after they kissed for the first time. But the absence of her most prized possession left me wondering.

"How did you pay for the air bubble and the new stove?" I asked hesitantly.

"The what, honey?" she asked, pouring more pancake batter into the pan and licking the excess off her finger.

"The bubble." I gestured my arms around the room.

She quickly turned her back to me and pulled plates from the shelves carved out of rock. "I was able to barter for one."

At the mention of bartering, my stomach dropped. "What did you barter?" I asked, fearing I already knew the answer.

She turned back around and gave me a guarded look. "It's nothing to worry about."

I watched her finish dishing up our breakfast and motion we sit at the table. Her silence added to the dread already gnawing in my stomach.

"I'm loving the oxygen, aren't you?" She buttered and layered strawberry jam on top of her pancakes, then motioned for me to do the same as I stared at her.

I couldn't. I had to know the truth. "Mom, where's your ring?"

She stopped in the middle of salting her eggs and hesitated. "I traded it in," she finally said.

"You did? But, why—"

Mom traced her thumb over her bare finger. "It's fine."

Speechless, I stared at the steam wafting up in circles from my food, my appetite ruined.

"Since we are going to be awhile, there were a few things we needed to be comfortable. It's not like they can take my debit card, so I had to make a decision. The stones can be replaced. Your father will understand."

My eyes stayed firmly glued to my plate, though I clenched my fists under the table. She should have at least talked to us first before selling her most precious possession. We could have come up with another way to pay for the air bubble or done without for a little while.