EPILOGUE

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Isaac cut his hours so he could spend more time with Nan. He was training me to take over. He came in mornings, while Nan had swim class, and left to spend afternoons with her. We’d been working out the details. My ideas were bigger than my fears.

Marta hired me to create her granddaughter’s wedding dress from scratch, and I was at the shop early on Sunday to put in time on the beadwork.

The doorbell rang. Bark ran to the front of the shop, growling. “Hey, bud,” I said, following behind him. “That’s not good for business!” I pointed to the CLOSED sign, but then I looked up. It was Luca.

I opened the door.

Bark wagged his tail.

“Hey,” I said, moving aside to let Luca in. He’d cut his hair. It was wispy around his face.

He gave me a hug. I hugged him back. My heart pounded, but it felt different. Good nerves.

“It’s great to see you.” And I felt clear when I said it. I was seeing him in the moment, not through a haze of our past.

“It is?” he asked, and his voice was bright with hope.

“Yeah.”

“It’s good to see you,” he said.

“I have to finish this one thing.” I gestured for him to follow me to the back room so I could secure a row of beads. I couldn’t abandon the work mid-strand. The fabric was too delicate to leave the needle hanging for long.

“This is beautiful.” He pointed to the gown.

“Thanks,” I said, sitting again, gesturing to Isaac’s chair.

“I ran into my friend Lacey when I was in New York.” He sat, and kicked his legs to wheel himself closer.

“Oh,” I said, holding the string of beads in place, stitching between each one. I felt a flash of jealousy, and tried to let it pass through my brain like clouds on a windy day. My hands didn’t even shake.

“She’s making a movie. It’s like a throwback 1950s beach flick, but about what was actually happening at the time, not the shiny Annette Funicello version.”

“That’s really cool,” I said, picturing high-waisted bikinis and rompers with plunging necklines.

“She wants to work with you.”

“Don’t—don’t do that,” I said. “Don’t try to get me a gig because you feel sorr—”

Luca laughed. “Seriously, Lacey has no interest in pity. She’s a perfectionist.”

“But you told her about me?”

“I showed her some footage,” Luca said. “I was, like, fishing for a compliment about my camerawork. There’s a shot of Bitsie and her bright red hair in the blue water. She’s floating on her back, laughing. It’s the best shot I’ve ever gotten, and two seconds into it, Lacey was asking me who made the costumes.”

“I mean, I’ll talk to her. I can try to pull together a portfolio,” I said. I hadn’t gotten pictures from the show. I hadn’t even seen any more of the footage. “But I’m kind of busy with all this.” I pointed to the stack of slacks on the workbench. I was looking for a high school kid to help me after school, but I hadn’t found one yet.

“The film was your portfolio. She wants you. Call her. She’ll kill me if you don’t.” He stared at me for a second. “You should do this. It’s not a small deal. Her last film premiered at Cannes.”

“And she wants me?”

“She’s in awe of you.”

“That’s . . . terrifying,” I said. I finished the row. Secured the thread.

“Right? I spend so much time in this business shaking in my boots.”

I was shocked. “You’re not scared of anything.”

“I’m terrified right now,” he said, and when I looked at him, I could see the fear in his eyes. The tightness in his brow.

“Why?”

“Kate,” Luca said. “I don’t want to lose you again.”

“I don’t want to lose you either.” I stood up and hugged him. His back was damp. His breath was hot. I kissed him. “Can we take it slow?” I asked. I wanted to learn how to live in moments with him, to love him bravely.

Luca nodded. “No matter what, we’re friends, okay? That part doesn’t end for anything.”

“Yeah,” I said. “Good.”

Bark pushed himself between us, shoving his head under Luca’s hand.

“Clearly, you’re not paying enough attention to him,” I said.

“Clearly.” He crouched to scratch Bark’s chest. Bark licked Luca’s face. “I missed you, buddy.”

“Hey, the mermaids have rehearsal in a few,” I said, grabbing my duffle bag. “You want to come? I have something to show you.”

“Can I film?” Luca asked.

“Sure,” I said, knowing it would be okay with the ladies.

“I don’t have an ending yet,” Luca said.

“Wait until you see the tank.”

“It’s done?”

“Yeah. This is their first time in it.”

*  *  *

There was a small crowd at the park already, even though it was only a rehearsal. Mo was on the platform hooking up the air hoses. Nan, Bitsie, and Althea were already on the perch in their tails.

“I’ve got to go over there for a sec,” I said, and dashed off toward the cabanas with Bark.

While I got ready, Bark chased a fly around the stall, jumping and snapping his teeth when he got close to catching it. Like a normal dog. Even though we were out in the world, he wasn’t on high alert, because I wasn’t on high alert either.

I leaned against the wall for balance and slid into my tail. It was silver at the waist, transitioning into bright blue, with a feathery green dorsal fin. I slipped my legs through the slit in the back, and kept the monofin separate. I’d attach it when I got to the perch. Aside from trying something on for functional reasons, this was the first costume I’d made that I actually wore. I made clothes, of course, but a costume for performance is something different. It’s a tool. And mine was beautifully engineered. I was proud of myself every time I put it on.

I slid my arms into the shell top. A confluence of blue sequins, molded foam, and neoprene. Cut wide in the back to allow full arm strokes, with a hook to attach the air hose so it wouldn’t get lost. I dug my bright red waterproof lipstick from my purse. It was only a rehearsal, but I couldn’t help myself. I twisted my hair back with a plastic sea star barrette that clipped in strands of blue tinsel.

Then I knelt down. Bark ran over, tail wagging. “Do you want to go swimming?” I asked. He yelped, jumped in the air, and then sat emphatically. I slipped his legs into his life vest and snapped it closed. I’d added a neoprene shark fin to the top. It cut through the surface when he swam.

“Look at what a good shark you are!” I said so he could hear the calm, happy tone of my voice. He was a wonderful shark, and a wonderful dog, and the very best of friends. He wagged away, the fin flapping back and forth.

At the tank, Mo hoisted Bark up to the platform, and I climbed the ladder. Mo’s next project was a ramp to allow for greater access so anyone who wanted to could be a mermaid.

Luca was setting up his camera in front of the glass. “Hey!” I yelled, and he looked up.

“You’re going in?”

“I’m a mermaid!” I said.

I could see him bite his lip, holding back tears. He gave me a thumbs up. I looked away so I wouldn’t cry.

I sat at the edge to slide the monofin into the tail, and tucked my feet in. “Okay, Barky,” I said, and pushed off into the water. Bark took a running jump and leapt in next to me. Mo threw a tennis ball for him, and he swam away to retrieve it while I dove through the sun-streaked water to join Nan, Bitsie, and Althea at the bottom of the tank. I took a long drag from my air hose and watched the bubbles rise to the surface as I exhaled.

The sounds of the outside world were muffled. The water was mine again. I belonged there, under the surface with Nan and our friends, Bark’s legs churning up waves above us. Through the glass, I could see Luca’s camera lights, or maybe it was the reflection of all our sequins, but I knew he could see me, so I waved. Then I took a deep breath from the air hose, and started to dance.

—Fin—