I pinched the bridge of my nose. “You named the fish?”
“Not me,” Celeste corrected with a trill of a laugh. “The universe had that honor. I simply listened.”
I exchanged a glance with Clare, who had just stepped onto the porch. Her expression told me she was curious and skeptical, too.
Celeste clasped her hands together. “I returned because I’m an expert on ancient maritime symbols. Elazar’s markings are fascinating. I believe he has a message for Walter and for all of us.”
I turned to Grandpa, raising a brow. “What do your friends at the Marine Institute think?”
Grandpa shrugged. “We’re going to the Marine Institute to take a gander and have a chat.”
I really didn’t want Grandpa gandering or chatting with this person.
Celeste beamed. “Walter has a rare and powerful connection to the sea. I feel it.”
Grandpa clapped me on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, kid. If she tries to sacrifice me to Poseidon, you have my permission to step in.”
Celeste laughed, delighted. “Oh, Walter. You’re such a hoot. The Lord of the Sea isn’t interested in your sacrifice.”
Grandpa looked offended. “He’s not?”
“No, silly. Your wisdom is needed here, in this place.” She wrapped her hand around his arm. “You’ll see. It’s no accident Elazar washed up on your beach.”
I spoke up. “Technically, as I’m sure you know, all California beaches are public. My grandfather doesn’t own this beach.”
“I’m not sure you realize the oarfish’s significance.” Celeste spoke as if I hadn’t. “He is nothing less than a shimmering messenger from the deep, a harbinger of mystery! Legends say he rises before earthquakes. Ancient mariners feared it, yet others believed oarfishes to be guardians, revealing their secrets hidden in the ocean’s depths.” She leaned so close I could smell the cloves on her breath. “Nothing appears without meaning, my dear!”
I edged away from her. “And you can read its markings?”
“I have that gift, yes.”
“And you think my grandfather also has gifts?”
Celeste hooted. “We all have gifts. But sadly, some of us refuse to acknowledge them.” She patted Grandpa’s arm. “I’m not going to let anything happen to Walter.”
*ETHAN
Ten days later, Celeste was still a part of our lives—a barnacle in jangly beads refusing to be brushed off.
I dipped my brush into the soft blue paint and ran it along the edge of the armoire Clare had found at an estate sale. The piece had good bones, intricate carvings that the fresh coat of color was already bringing to life. It was satisfying work, the kind that let my mind wander—except my thoughts kept circling back to Grandpa and Celeste.
“He’s spending all his time with her,” I grumbled, setting down the brush and rolling my shoulders. “They’ve been to the Marine Institute three times this week. She’s got him—and, if Grandpa is to be believed, even some of the scientists—convinced she can ‘decipher the markings’ on Elazar the fish, like he’s some scaly, prophetic Rosetta Stone.”
Clare glanced up from where she was distressing one of the doors, a smudge of paint on her cheek. “Maybe she can,” she said lightly. “You have to admit, she’s entertaining.”
I scoffed. “She’s a con artist.”
“We don’t know that.”
I really liked Clare, but sometimes her ability to see only the good in people annoyed me.
Mrs. Henderson, who had been quietly knitting in the corner, suddenly let out a sharptskand set her needles down with a clatter. “Walter is a grown man, Ethan. He can see whomever he wants and make his own decisions. He doesn’t need you babysitting him.”
I blinked. “Wait a second.” I pointed my paint brush at her. “Weren’t you the one telling me he shouldn’t be left alone with strange people showing up at his house?”
Her lips pressed into a thin line. “That was before you started acting like some overbearing watchdog.Maybehe enjoys her company.Maybehe likes the attention. Did you ever think of that?”
I opened my mouth, then closed it again.
