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“Hey, watch your language, young lady!” I hate hearing my kids curse, and I have heard it a lot more than I want to today.
She turns on me, nostrils flaring, finger pointed at me, almost jabbing me in the chest. “Youdon’t get to tell me that.Youdidn’t bother to tell me that you had been kidnapped.” Then she takes a deep breath, probably remembering why we’re all here in the first place. Shakily, she lowers the hand she’s still pointing at me and says with way too cheery a demeanor, “Hey, let’s call George!” Then she stomps to the bed and collapses on the edge, burying her head in her hands and rubbing her temples.
I turn to Miranda who is maneuvering her phone to George’s number. I want to remind her how much faster it would be to use voice commands, but at least I know this isn’t the time for me to bring up that marital pet peeve.
“Hey George. Have you learned anything about the siren?” Miranda digs through her huge weekender bag until she finds a notebook and pen. Then she sits on the edge of the bed and rests her notes on the nightstand so she can lean on it as she writes.
Sitting on the opposite corner of the bed, Jessie places her elbows on her knees and presses her mouth into her steepled fingers. She stares ahead, forcing herself to keep taking deep breaths while trying to piece together the last few months with the information she gleaned from the last few minutes.
As much as I would prefer to hover over Miranda’s shoulder and read her notes, I give her space to do her thing and sit next to Jessie, rubbing her back and letting her know I’m there for her without saying a word. Her eyes close, and a tear rolls down her cheek. Her body start to pulse with choked sobs. She is so overwhelmed right now, but like the good rule follower she’s always been, she won’t dare to take too much of our attention. Not right now. Not when Eliza needs everything we have to give.
I wrap my arm around her shoulders. Leaning in, I whisper, “We will all get through this. We will get her back. Your mom is amazing at this. She defeated a bunch of goddesses when she was brand new at this. You’ll see.”
The look she shoots me when she whips her head around takes my breath away. Her eyes are ice cold, her jaw set like stone. None of this amuses her. She may be too old to believe in the fairytale monsters Miranda has had to fight in real life these last few months, but she’s still too young to be able to fully process the truth that they actually exist and her mom has to fight them. When I think her glare is thawing, I try again. “I promise we will have a proper discussion about all of this. I can only imagine what is going through your head right now.”
The edges of her begin to soften. “I’m sure it’s not as bad as being kidnapped by muses.” She gives me a brief, completely insincere smile. The smile you give a stranger you pass in the grocery store, the one you want to be kind to just because you are walking down a particular aisle at the same time.
“Well, I wasn’t just kidnapped. I was under, let’s just call it some kind of goddess magic when I was kidnapped, so I wasn’t even really thinking about what was going on. It wasn’t until your mom—” Her raised eyebrow tells me to shut up. “You know what, not important right now. But I promise when we are through this, we will all sit down, you, Mom, and me—”
“Don’t forget Phoebe, Natalie, and Sam.”
I stare at her with my mouth hanging open. “Wait, what? We can’t tell your sisters and brother about this.”
She shrugs. “Well, I can’t keep it from them. So, one of us will have to tell them.”
I stare at her in silence, trying to decide an appropriate way to tell my eldest child absofuckinglutely not when I hear Miranda.
“Okay, George. Thank you. Call me if you learn anything else. Thanks.”
We all turn to her expectantly as she hangs up. There’s a moment of silence as she looks at each of us in turn. A moment of silence that I am beginning to think will kill us all until Rory busts through it.
“So? Anything?”
Miranda shakes her head and then nods. “Yes and no. George doesn’t know how I can summon the imps, but he did find info about sirens. They usually live on rocky islands in the sea or rocky alcoves along the shore, but, really, they could be anywhere touching the water. They likely called to her with a song that promised her what her heart desires most. So, I don’t know if they made her think they had Rory or Tabby or what they said.”
“Okay. So how do we find her?” I ask, glad we’re making progress.
“I think I need to bring someone with me as bait.” She looks between all three of us as we give her blank stares. I don’t feel like being used by a mythical being again, but I instinctively move to stand between Miranda and Jessie, until my wife looks down at her feet and says, “Rory. It has to be Rory.”
I begin to breathe again, but when I look at Rory, his eyes are as big as saucers, and his mouth looks like he’s trying to catch flies. Maybe airplanes would be more accurate for the size of the opening.
His bottom jaw half closes and drops back down a few times before he finally begins to annunciate words and refer to himself in the third person. “Wh-why does it have to be Rory?”
Miranda’s shoulders hunch with the weight of having to explain it all, but she looks Rory in the eye and speaks with measured patience. “You’re the one who is missing what you desire most. Also, I’ll probably need you to help get Eliza out of whatever the fuck spell they have her under.”
Rory nods. “I mean, of course, I will do anything to get her back. I’m just so nervous about Tabitha. Her mom is already missing. What if something happens to me?”
Jessie puts her hand on his forearm. “Nothing will happen to you. You’ll be with my mom. We’ve got Tabby, Uncle Rory. Please, go get Aunt Eliza back.”
Rory looks into Jessie’s eyes and tears fill his. He knows Eliza was our kids’ aunt long before she was his wife. He nods.
I clear my throat to keep from crying myself and ask the question I assume is on everyone’s mind. “So, what’s the plan?” But three faces snap to me in surprise, so I guess I was wrong. “Are you just going wander around, hoping Rory gets spelled?”
Miranda shrugs. “Yeah, basically.”
I give a nervous laugh. I run my hands through my hair, imagining Miranda and Rory, walking up and down the boardwalk, just waiting for this siren to attack. The idea nauseates me, but we don’t have many options here. “Okay, and what then?”
She looks me straight in the eye and, with no mirth, replies, “I follow him, and hope I’m not too late.” The room is beyond silent. She looks down with a hint of shame and tries to backtrack on what she just implied. “For whatever reason, this siren wants me. She seduced Eliza to get my attention, to draw me in. I have to believe she’s keeping her alive, at least until I get there.”
