For a moment, she was overcome with a desire to feed, but as Muriel’s simpering voice wormed into her ear, she calmed herself. “In that case, I shall pay in cash. I presume there is no waiting period for cash.”
“There isn’t, but—”
“Tell me, Muriel. Did I make a mistake? Should I have called Saks instead of Lord & Taylor? Because I’m beginning to believe I might be better served there.”
“No, no!” Muriel cried. “And a check is fine.Absolutelyfine. We’ll do whatever it takes to get your order processed and tailored as soon as possible. We appreciate your business and value you as a customer.”
Seeing no need to reply, Mrs. Smith ended the call and sank deeper into the water. The time to change had come.
She wasn’t slipping into a temporary skin the way she did each night before walking down to the boathouse. That form, featureless as a store mannequin, lasted a few minutes only. This time, she would do a full change. One that would last for weeks. One that caused her a world of pain to perform.
She wrapped her tentacles around her body, creating a cocoon. Her limbs drew in, tighter and tighter, until every inch of her body was underwater.
Then, she released her power.
The water in the hot tub began to bubble. As Mrs. Smith writhed and twisted, water sloshed over the side of the tub. Her cartilage fractured and reformed. Her spine shortened and her lower tentacles fused together. Her arm tentacles split at the ends into hands. The hands split into fingers.
Loose scales and claws roiled in the water. Bits of black fluke stuck to the sides of the tub. The water went from pink to red to vermillion. Chunks of tissue bobbed to the surface.
Finally, the violent movements in the water stopped.
Much later, when Mrs. Smith reached for the phone, she punched in numbers with her human fingers.
When a man answered, Mrs. Smith’s lovely mouth curved into a grin. “Hello, Don,” she purred. “I’ve been thinking about you.”
18
Natalie
The Thursday following the regatta, Natalie fed the kids and the dogs, cleaned up the kitchen, and went into her room to get ready for work.
The TV in the basement was so loud that she could hear the frenetic music of a Looney Tunes cartoon right through the floor, but she decided to cut the older kids some slack.
Sailing classes wouldn’t start again until next Monday. However, after receiving a call from the yacht club yesterday, she’d learned that the kids of working parents could attend a free arts and crafts class after today’s swim team practice.
That means your kids.You’renow a working parent.
Even though J.J. and Jill made it clear that they had no interest in making God’s eyes out of yarn, the thought that they qualified for a special class made Natalie’s chest expand with pride. That is, until a competing thought wriggled to the forefront of her mind.
You’ll be lucky to last the summer. Sid gave you an impossible property because he wants you to fail. And after that disastrous open house? You will.
“No,” she said out loud, her lips narrowing as she pickedat a speck of hardened toothpaste in the sink. “I just need to find the right buyer.”
In the bathroom, she teased and sprayed her hair until she looked like Michelle Marsh, an evening news anchor. Not only did she and Michelle share an alma mater, but Natalie liked the other woman’s voice and how she styled her hair. She often copied her makeup and was inspired by the bold colors of her blazers.
Natalie was just about to apply her lipstick when someone knocked on her bedroom door.
“Come in!”
Jill appeared in the bathroom doorway. She was still in her nightgown even though she should have been getting ready for swim practice.
“Why aren’t you in your suit?”
Jill cradled her right hand as if it might fall off without support. Natalie had seen a Band-Aid on her daughter’s palm after she’d worked at Mrs. Smith’s, but she hadn’t asked Jill what happened. Her kids always had minor cuts and bruises, insect bites, and splinters. They were a natural part of any good childhood. Her children were given the freedom to learn things for themselves. To solve their own problems and deal with their own challenges. Because of that, they’d be ready for the real world. If Jill cut her hand, she knew how to clean it and bandage it. Natalie was raising independent, capable children.
Children like Charles, coddled until they were practically adults, wouldn’t be able to handle themselves in a fast-paced, competitive world. After the regatta, Elaine and Benjamin should’ve encouraged their son to go out, to be around other kids. Instead, Elaine would probably put him under glass until his bar mitzvah.
Natalie’s sympathy for the boy was waning with everypassing day. Had he really seen something horrible or was he just using the tragedy to avoid sailing class?
