The Mermaids Singing by Lisa Carey

Author:Lisa Carey
Language: eng
Format: epub, pdf
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 1998-09-25T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 16

Gráinne

I had to wait until my grandmother and Marcus were asleep, until I hadn’t heard a sound for over an hour, so by the time I got down to the telephone it was almost midnight. I picked up the receiver before I realized I didn’t know how to dial home from so far away. I tried zero but no operator came on. There was a phone book in the drawer of the end table, and I found out in the blue section that I needed to dial the country code first. The phone rang seven times before Stephen picked up. I imagined it ringing in the cottage even though I’d dialed our apartment.

“It’s me,” I said to Stephen’s tired hello. I made my voice as low as I could get it without whispering. “It’s Gráinne.”

There was a click and a pause, and for a second I thought he’d hung up.

“Gráinne,” he said, then he sighed. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” I said. I’d thought he’d sound happy to hear from me. I’d imagined snuggling the phone as he whispered: I miss you, Gráinne. So much more than I thought I would.

“There’s an echo,” he said next. “Can you hear that?”

“An echo?” I said, looking quickly around the dark room. “No.”

“I can hear everything you say twice,” Stephen said. “It’s annoying. How are you?”

“I’m fine,” I said.

“Fine, fine.” He giggled. Giggling wasn’t like him. “A boy called here for you tonight. He sounded really disappointed when I told him you’d moved to Ireland.”

“I didn’t move,” I snapped. Another click, another pause.

“Is something the matter?” he said. “Did you meet your father?”

“Not exactly,” I said. I moved the receiver away from my mouth, so he wouldn’t hear me trying not to cry.

“Oh, Gráinne,” he said softly, and that started the tears plopping down my nose. “What happened?”

“I want to come home,” I said. Home-home, was what he must have heard, the echo sounding twice as desperate as my voice.

“You’ve only been gone for two days,” he said.

“I don’t care, I want to come home.”

“What do you want me to do?” he said.

Please don’t sound so exasperated, I thought. “Let me,” I said. “Let me come stay at home until I figure out what to do.”

“Gráinne,” he sighed. “You can’t stay here. I’m moving.”

“Moving?” I squeaked.

He explained something about a teaching job and how hard it was being in the apartment, but I was hardly listening. I was thinking of the heat that had come from his mouth, of how I’d pulled it in toward me, and almost, almost captured him.

“I think you’re better off with your family,” he said.

“Why did you kiss me, then?” I said before I could stop myself. “If you don’t even want me there, why did you kiss me?” It felt dangerous, saying that out loud.

“Gráinne,” he said firmly, in the voice of an adult scolding a child. “I never kissed you.”

“Liar,” I whispered.

“It was an accident,” he said. “We were both upset. I can’t say I know how you feel because I don’t—you’ve just lost your mother.

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