Winter's Spell, page 32
Tessa smiled and put a hand over Roxy’s on the table between them. “I appreciate that. But I’m also to blame here. I still have superstar crush-object Roxy in my head, as it turns out. I was wrong to pressure you like that. I’m sorry.”
Roxy leaned in a kissed Tessa on the lips. It felt good to have things out in the open. To be honest. It was yet another new sensation in her life she’d need to get used to.
“I guess we’re both having to figure stuff out,” Roxy said.
“And there’s no one else I’d rather figure it out with.” Tessa smiled and her eyes danced, before the smile faded away, and a look of concern replaced her earlier levity. “But what will we do about Perdita?”
“I think Mo has an idea about that,” said Roxy. She couldn’t help grinning with secret knowledge.
“Mo!?”
Roxy nodded. “Mo is back. And she’s got a plan.”
Chapter Thirty-four—Tessa
Opening night of the play.
Tessa could hardly believe it was here—and then done and gone.
She stood in the lobby of the theater after the show and watched as the stars of the show greeted the audience, talked to them, shook their hands, and, in Lisa’s case and that of some of the other more famous cast members, signed programs and took selfies as well.
Tessa had learned so much about herself, and about Roxy, over the course of the last three weeks. Ever since they’d made up, Tessa had been working on listening to Roxy—really listening—and not just hearing what she wanted to hear. By the same token, Tessa was working on moderating her expectations in all aspects of her life. She’d always been a people-pleaser, always wanting things to be perfect, including herself, her work, and her partners, and it was time to set aside those impossible standards.
It had been hard to accept some of these realities for Tessa. But she was working hard to set aside her aspirations for perfection. She was learning quickly that perfect was the enemy of happiness and, in some cases, like the play, what she’d thought would be perfect, turned out to be nowhere near the mark. In spite of what she’d originally thought for sure were huge compromises—losing the space concept and all the expensive costumes as well as her hand-picked actor for Perdita—the play was a huge success.
Tessa’s heart swelled with pride. Opening night had gone so well. She could hardly believe it.
Mo had been incredible in the role of Perdita. So often, Perdita was a character without much to give to the play, the drama being so tightly wound up with Leontes, Hermione, and Polixenes in the first half, but Mo had given it her all, and in doing so, she’d brought Perdita to life in a way that Tessa could never have imagined.
Who knew a mermaid who’d never heard of plays and theater two months earlier could give such a heartbreakingly beautiful performance on stage?
Lisa, of course, had done a spectacular job. She’d brought her all to the role of Leontes, and she was perfect—terrifying in the first half, and gut-wrenchingly sad in the second half. There was a rawness to Lisa’s performance that night that Tessa hadn’t been expecting—and the exchanges between her and Mo on stage as estranged parent and child were especially moving.
Everyone had done a great job, and so many people were coming up to Tessa now to congratulate her.
The sets and costumes were getting a lot of praise too. Roxy’s idea had been a smash hit. With Rhoda’s help and permission, they’d used some of the backdrops from the dioramas at the museum, shifting the concept from space back to Earth and, specifically, New England during the height of the nineteenth-century whaling industry. Leontes and Polixenes were governors of Massachusetts and Rhode Island, respectively, and Hermione, in a stroke of brilliance, rather than being a statue for twenty years, lived out her exile as a mermaid in Cape Cod Bay.
That idea had been Mo’s of course.
The theater in Harwich had recently staged the Pirates of Penzance, and so, with the additional help of some of the locals working on the set, they’d been able to borrow at low-to-no cost many of the costumes from that production, and some of the props as well.
It had all worked out brilliantly, and in some ways, Tessa felt that perhaps a concept closer to the hearts of the people on Cape Cod was better than her space opera idea anyway. It was a little hard to admit that, as she’d been so proud of the space idea, but in the end what mattered was that they had a concept and it’d worked out. Everyone praised it, and she loved getting praise, of course.
Her mother and father and sister would be arriving the next day to see the second performance, so they weren’t in the audience that night, and Tessa found herself a bit disappointed. Her mother had suggested that they come for opening night, and Tessa had discouraged them, telling them it would likely be the worst of the performances and it would be better to come the second night.
But there was always something magical about opening night—no pun intended.
Tessa glanced up surreptitiously at the ceiling of the lobby and was relieved to see that her wards were still in their places after she’d re-hung them a few weeks ago.
“Tessa!” Mo’s jolly tones broke in on Tessa’s thoughts, and she turned to greet her budding thespian. “It was so good!”
Mo hugged her so tight she could barely breathe for a moment. Finally, Mo let go and Tessa inhaled deeply.
“Wow, Mo, that’s some hug,” she said.
“Oh, yes, I have been practicing with Lisa.”
“With Lisa?”
“Yes,” said Mo, suddenly very solemn. “She told me she needs good hugs to help her with her role.”
Mo had returned to being Lisa’s assistant for the last three weeks of the play, and they’d been spending a lot of time together. Tessa had been so busy with the preparations that she hadn’t really had time to consider Mo and Lisa’s relationship. Was there something going on that she wasn’t aware of?
Before she could ask any more questions, Roxy appeared with Rhoda and Clare, the curator at the museum.
“Look who I found,” said Roxy with a big smile. She put a quick peck on Tessa’s cheek, but a glance at her eyes showed that she was definitely thinking the same thing as Tessa—they needed some sexy time, and soon.
On impulse, Tessa hugged Rhoda. “I’m so grateful to you, Rhoda. We really couldn’t have had this success without your cooperation and the dioramas from the museum.”
Rhoda looked surprised by Tessa’s outpouring of warmth and affection. She straightened her glasses and pulled at her black leather jacket once they broke apart.
“You’re welcome, of course,” she said with a shrug. “The museum hardly gets any traffic this time of year. And of course, it’s a write-off for us—”
“Oh stop it, Rhody,” interrupted Clare, waving a finger at Rhoda as if she were a naughty child. “Be nice.”
Tess and Roxy exchanged glances. What on earth was that all about?
Rhoda smiled, a little embarrassed. “Tessa, Roxy, please meet my mom, Clare.”
Tessa’s eyes widened and she looked at Roxy as if to say, did you know this? Roxy shook her head slightly. She was just as surprised as Tessa.
“A pleasure to meet you,” said Tessa. She put out her hand to Clare, and Clare shook it.
“Oh, sorry,” said Clare, sounding genuinely contrite. “Did you want me to, uh…?” She put out her hand again and Tessa did the same, and Clare slapped it gently with hers on both sides.
There was a pregnant pause in the conversation before all five of them burst out laughing.
“I see now how silly it looks here,” said Mo finally. “But really, if you see it in the water, it makes much more sense. We do it with our fins.”
Roxy slapped her forehead. “Of course. Why didn’t I think of that?”
They all giggled again.
“Clare, what did you think of the performance?” said Tessa. “Rhoda, and you?”
“I thought it was lovely,” said Clare. She patted Mo’s arm gently. “This one here is a real winner.”
“You can say that again,” said Lisa, who had just walked up to their circle.
The theater lobby was emptying out. The only people left were some of the cast and crew, a reporter from the local paper—probably waiting to talk to Tessa one more time—and some friends and family of the production, like Clare and Rhoda.
“Ms. Collins, you were fantastic,” said Rhoda, transforming before Tessa’s eyes into the kind of fangirl that she never would have expected. Rhoda hardly knew where to look, but Tessa could see she really wanted to look at Lisa, of course. “Would you—”
“Sign a program? Take a selfie? Whatever you want,” said Lisa with a smile.
“Rhoda works at the museum. She helped us the night of the break-in and then she helped us get the sets for the play, too,” said Tessa to Lisa, who hadn’t really been involved with that side of the production. She’d been more or less in character or running lines for the last three weeks.
Her eyebrows shot up at this news. “Really? Well then, I must thank you for helping out Tessa so much. You really saved the show.”
Rhoda blushed. “It’s nothing, really.”
They stepped aside and took some photos, and it made Tessa’s heart positively glow with happiness to see Lisa being her best self.
Soon Rhoda returned to the group while Lisa was assailed with more fan requests from some lingering theatergoers. Tessa had been chatting with Mo about her experiences of the first night. Mo had been shooting questions to her about various parts of her performance, and, to be honest, Tessa had no notes for her. She’d been perfect on her first time.
“Must be mermaid magic,” said Tessa quietly.
“So weird to be able to say that word out loud,” said Roxy. “I thought I was going to say it in my sleep at one point.” She looked over at Clare. “That whole time Mo and I were at the museum, did you know who Mo was?”
Now it was Clare’s turn to blush and look at her shoes. “Will you hate me if I say yes?”
Roxy chuckled. “You must have been pretty surprised.”
“I didn’t figure it out right away,” said Clare. “It’s been a while since I took a dip in the sea.”
Tessa was surprised to hear this—not because of what Clare was saying, but her tone. She didn’t sound sad or angry or frustrated. She sounded…fine.
Her words appeared to remind Rhoda of something. She riffled through her large black leather purse and pulled out a small velvet drawstring bag.
She handed it to Mo, who took it automatically and then peeked inside it. She looked back up at Rhoda, confused. “What is this?”
“It’s the bracelet of Gwenhidw,” said Rhoda quietly. “I’ve been trying to give this to you for three weeks now. It’s best if you can give it back to your people before the next full moon. We don’t yet know if the Three Sisters are gone for real or if they’re out somewhere gathering strength.”
“But this bracelet is…garbage,” said Mo. She pulled it out of the velvet bag and held it out on her palm. “It is not a mermaid bracelet. This is human trash. How could a mermaid even wear jewelry like this?”
Unexpectedly to everyone, Clare grabbed the bracelet from Mo’s outstretched hand.
“Ma!” said Rhoda. “What are you doing?”
“What are you doing with my bracelet?” said Clare.
“Your bracelet? You were the one who told me it belonged to Gwenhidw.”
“That was only a fairy tale,” said Clare, her expression a mix of exasperation and affection. “I thought you knew that.”
“Then why did the Three Sisters want it?” said Roxy. “Doesn’t it have any magical powers?”
“Maybe,” said Clare. “Anything given with love has magic within it.”
“Ma, what are you saying?” Rhoda looked confused and impatient.
“This bracelet isn’t yours to give away, and it most certainly wouldn’t have helped the Sisters with whatever they wanted it for. Or maybe it would have. I suppose it’s true. I don’t know where your father found it.”
“My father?”
“Yes, that is, your real father.”
Chapter Thirty-five—Roxy
Roxy exchanged glances with Tessa. She, like Mo, was utterly rapt in the family drama playing out before them. It struck Roxy that perhaps this was completely par for the course after a performance of The Winter’s Tale, with all of its family drama.
After three weeks of rehearsals, Roxy felt she knew the play better than if she’d read it. Best of all, she’d enjoyed the play. The language wasn’t an issue once she could see it all in context. Seeing it all the way through tonight, she found herself moved by the play in a totally different way, and she’d been thinking a lot about the way the play represented family and relationships, the little misunderstandings that can turn into large-scale conflicts with far-flung consequences. It hit home for her—and clearly for Rhoda and Clare as well.
“I don’t understand, Mother,” said Rhoda, her voice wavering. “What is going on?”
“I wanted to tell you for a long time, but sometimes, so much time passes, that you don’t have any idea of how to finally tell someone the truth. Especially someone you love so much,” said Clare, looking at her daughter tenderly but also with concern. “Here, among these strangers, seems hardly the right time, but I suppose it’s too late not to tell you.”
“Mother!”
“I received this bracelet from your father when I learned I was pregnant with you. The very next day, I went for a swim round these parts, and I was trapped in a net—a magical net as it turned out—and brought to land. I had the bracelet with me, but I hid it in the rocks on the shore. The man you thought was your father was not your biological father.”
“My father—my real father—is a merman?” said Rhoda, her voice barely above a whisper.
Clare nodded solemnly.
“Doesn’t that make Rhoda a mermaid too?” said Roxy, unable to hold in her very loud thoughts any longer.
“Of course,” said Clare gently.
“Hurray!” said Mo, jumping up and down.
Rhoda looked shocked to her core.
“Why did you let me think all this time that he was my father? This human who trapped you? Do you know how much it hurt to think that he was part of me?”
Clare patted Rhoda’s arm gently. “He helped raise you. He is a part of you. And while I was angry with him at first, once you were born, it all faded. I grew to love you—and him.”
“But why didn’t you take us back? When you could? He was always traveling…we could have snuck away, gone home.”
“It’s not that simple. How was I going to leave your father here alone? It was getting harder and harder for me to shift my form, and I grew used to living here on land and…I liked it.” Clare shrugged. “I liked living on land. I did send some messages to your biological father to let him know we were both all right. And he was okay with it. He had a couple other families by then. He was all right. There’s no bad blood there.” She recited this information in a manner so matter-of-fact, they were all speechless for a moment.
“The only thing that I was never sure about was your father’s other daughter,” said Clare finally.
“My father here on land?” said Rhoda quietly, as if her mind were still taking everything in.
Clare nodded, the only one of them acting as if this was all completely normal. “Yes. He had magical abilities, of course, as you know, being a magician, and he’d had a daughter before I came to him. She was being brought up by the mother, but occasionally the little girl would come to visit. Odd little thing, brightest red hair I’d ever seen, green eyes like a cat, and the biggest temper. I used to tell you both stories sometimes.”
“I don’t suppose you ever told them the story of Gwenhidw?” asked Roxy, whose brain was starting to put two and two together.
Clare nodded again. “Oh yes. I’m sure I did. That’s a classic.”
“And you showed them the bracelet?” asked Tessa, whose thoughts were going in the same direction as Roxy’s.
“Very likely,” said Clare. “Oh! I see where you’re going with that. Yes. I suppose little Foo-foo might have taken it into her head that the bracelet was enchanted.”
“Foo-foo?” said Rhoda incredulously. “I don’t remember her at all.”
“She stopped coming to visit when she started school. Her mother wanted her to study in Geneva. Of course, Foo-foo is just what we called her when she was little. You can’t very well call a little girl of three or four Faustina.”
Rhoda and Tessa looked at Roxy. It was almost too much to believe—Rhoda was a mermaid and Faustina Clerval was her stepsister?
“Why didn’t you mention this connection when we were at the museum—and we saw her name in the register?” said Roxy, feeling rather indignant. Clare could have saved them a lot of time and energy if she’d filled them in on all these details six weeks earlier.
Clare looked confused. “But that was Faustina Clerval. I only knew Foo-foo as Faustina O’Connor.” She paused and thought about it. “I suppose it’s a unique name, but when she came to the museum, she didn’t look like the little girl I’d seen back then. No red hair, no green eyes. Add to that a different last name, and I suppose I thought she really was someone else.”
“Clearly, she’s been incognito,” said Tessa. “And I told you that the last name was a fake—a literary joke for fans of Mary Shelley.”
“Right,” said Roxy. Her mind was still stuck on the fact that Rhoda was a mermaid and Faustina was her evil sorceress stepsister. This was some messed up fairy tale shit, with a twist.
“But wait,” said Mo. She looked at Clare. “You did not want to go back to the sea, okay. But what about your daughter? You never taught her to change to her tail?”
