ONE
KALANI
“Thank you for doing this! You really saved my ass,” Everly said as she came over to hug me.
“Don’t thank me. I’m only doing this because I need the money,” I said flatly. Dressing up like a mermaid and interacting with a pool full of six-year-olds wasn’t how I wanted to spend my day off. But I needed the money more than I wanted an afternoon to myself.
“You’re still saving my ass. Doesn’t matter why you’re doing it,” she said. “Follow me. I’ll show you where we’re changing and getting ready. You have the blue tail and wig. There’s waterproof makeup in the bathroom if you need to cover any tattoos or scars. Let me know if you need anything.”
Thirty minutes later, I was sitting on the steps of the pool, partially submerged in water, staring at my blue tailfins moving with the water. At least it was somewhat cloudy, so I wasn’t frying in the sun while I waited for the party to begin. And then it did. The birthday girl’s mother, Ashley, opened the sliding glass door and released a gaggle of sticky-handed children.
“Mermaids!” several girls squealed, followed by the sounds of little bodies splashing into the pool.
I stayed back and let Everly and Kala take the lead. They knew what they were doing, and I wasn’t comfortable around young children. I didn’t know much about them and didn’t know how to talk to them. So, I stayed by the steps, smiling and waving.
I thought my strategy was working brilliantly, until a timid little voice said, “Hi.”
I looked to my side to find the birthday girl, Hannah, holding on to the side of the pool as she watched her friends enjoy her party. “Hello,” I said. “Do you want to swim with your friends?”
She glanced at the group in the center of the pool and shook her head.
“You don’t want to?” I asked carefully.
“No,” she said softly.
I don’t know what it was, maybe I recognized a familiar sadness in her eyes, but I felt compelled to ask, “Why?”
“I can’t get my hair wet. I have to stay pretty for pictures. That’s what Mommy and Uncle Matthew said.”
“For your birthday pictures,” I said knowingly.
“I don’t like taking pictures,” she said.
“Me either,” I agreed and shot a glare at her mother. Ashley Mitchell seemed like the kind of woman who wouldn’t let her child have any fun so the pictures looked good for social media. What a cunt.
“You had to take birthday pictures, too?” she asked.
“Yeah, I think most kids do.”
“That’s what Uncle Matthew said,” she said quietly and slightly curled into herself.
My hackles rose. Something wasn’t right. I knew it, and I did not hesitate to press forward. “When did Uncle Matthew tell you that?”
“When he was taking pictures.”
“Today?”
She nodded. “Before I could have cake.”
“Can you play now? Since you’ve already had your pictures?” I asked, once again shooting a glare toward her mother.
“Uncle Matthew wants to take more pictures later.”
I couldn’t let it go. I knew I was walking myself into a situation I was not in a place to mentally handle, but I kept going.
“Do you want to sit with me on the steps?” I asked and motioned for her to come closer. “I’m not supposed to get my hair wet either.”
She didn’t answer me right away, but she slowly made her way over to me. We sat together in silence for several moments while I desperately tried to think of what to say.
