When he was gone, Mrs. Smith peeled off her ruined dress and walked into the water.
Her children surged forward and wound themselves around her legs and torso. The blood from the cut on her back excited them. They thrashed from side to side. Their mouths opened to drink in the metallic taste in the water. When it finally dissipated, they grew calmer. They swam languidly, weaving in between her legs, stroking her flesh with their flesh.
She ducked under the surface, her hair spreading out like a spiderweb.
Suddenly, a spark ignited in her human womb. Warmth spread over the center of her torso.
Bathed in diaphanous moonlight, the Mother of Eels glowed with power and possibility.
She was ready to create life.
In two weeks, when the same moon was little more than a scythe blade, she would attend the man-child’s party. She would eat her fill of Pure Ones, swim to her secret cave, and tear herself in two.
She closed her eyes, reveling in the sensation of eel skin against her naked body.
My children. It’s almost time to feast.
26
Natalie
The following Friday, Natalie and Elaine were in the Scotts’ living room, talking about Mrs. Smith.
They’d had multiple phone calls since the cocktail party. During these calls, they dissected every detail of her appearance and wondered where she’d bought her dress. They spoke about the ripples her presence had sent through the yacht club community.
“She’s got all the wives worried,” Natalie had said toward the end of Tuesday’s phone call.
“Benjamin didn’t say a thing about her looks, but he went on and on about how clever she is,” Elaine had responded in a sour tone.
On Wednesday, Natalie called Elaine to complain that she’d overheard Jimmy telling one of his buddies that his neighbor was “foxy as hell.”
Ever loyal, Elaine had said, “So are you.”
“Not to Jimmy. Not this week. He’s been in a pissy mood ever since the cocktail party. I don’t know what’s gotten into him.”
Now, perched on the edge of a chair in Natalie’s living room, Elaine said, “Did you hear about the fight in the parking lot? It happened after we left.”
Natalie handed Elaine a glass of white wine. “No. Between whom?”
“Rod Kerry and the valet. Apparently, the valet ground the gears of Rod’s new Porsche or something like that—you know I’m clueless about cars—and Rod yelled at him. Instead of apologizing, the valet jumped out of the driver’s seat and hit Rod in the face.”
“No!”
Elaine nodded. “Broke his nose. The valet got fired, of course, but if you ask me, he probably did Rod a favor. His nose was pretty awful before.”
The women cackled.
“Ihave a story, too.” Natalie took a swig of wine and continued. “I ran into Judy Strauss at the dry cleaner’s, and she told me that Coach Patrick was completely soused by the time he left the cocktail party. She said he was nasty to the kids during Monday’s practice. She even saw him pull Misty Duncan’s ponytail because she was talking while he was giving instructions.”
Elaine tutted. “That’s a bit much.”
Natalie glanced at her watch. “I thought Beth would be here by now. Did you talk to her today?”
“Yes. She said she was coming.”
“I’ve called her a bunch of times this week, but she never picked up or called me back. How did she sound?”
Elaine took a sip of wine, considering. “She sounded okay, actually.”
