Siren's Call

Lily felt a tiny glow of satisfaction at the praise. She’d spent lots of time with Opal the past couple of days, enjoying the novelty of shopping with a girlfriend and showing her around the bayou.

“But I don’t see art as a career path.”

Jet’s acerbic observation squashed the flicker of warmth. Her sis was in a lousy mood today. Must be some hormonal pregnancy thing.

Lily absentmindedly brushed Opal’s red hair. She’d been thinking of entering the prestigious Garrison Hendricks art contest. All finalists would be invited to showcase their work at a premiere gallery in New York City. The chances of placing were slim, but the rewards could launch her fledgling dreams.

The click of Jet’s fingers on the adding machine resumed.

“How’s Nash’s work going?” Lily asked Opal casually.

“It’s been a challenge, but he enjoys it. Doesn’t he talk to you about it?”

“I haven’t talked to him in a couple days. Maybe I’ll run out there tomorrow.”

Opal winked. “Bet he’d love to see you. You two can pick up with the passionate kiss I interrupted at the picnic.”

The clicking stopped. “Passionate kiss? I thought you were seeing Gary Ludlow,” Jet said.

“I cut him loose last week.” Lily sharpened her scissors, ignoring Jet’s exasperated sigh.

“One day you’re going to run out of men to date around here,” her sister warned.

Lily placed chunks of Opal’s hair between her left index finger and thumb and made the first cut. She didn’t defend herself against Jet’s remark. It wasn’t that she deliberately set out to hurt anyone. When she saw it couldn’t work, she ended it quickly, figuring that was the kindest thing in the end.

A ping sent Opal scurrying through her purse. “Gotta take this,” she apologized, scooting out of the chair. “Is there somewhere I can talk privately?”

Lily pointed to the break room in back.

“Be back in a minute.” Opal hurried away, the black vinyl cape flapping behind her like a bat.

Jet arched a dark eyebrow. “Kind of secretive, isn’t she?”

“A little.” She wondered if Opal’s boyfriend might be married.

Jet sipped from her water bottle, then set it down slowly and deliberately. Her gaze drifted to the shop window. “I went for a swim last night and the current brought interesting news.”

“Let me guess. Mom’s coming.”

Jet nodded. “Judging from the sound-wave strength and pattern, I’d say to expect her in about two days.”

Mother was the last person Lily wanted to see right now.

“Maybe she wants to check on you. Make sure everything’s okay with the pregnancy,” Lily said hopefully.

“Nah. It’s you she’s concerned with.”

Lily swept up snippets of Opal’s hair on the floor, aware of Jet’s scrutiny. Damn, she didn’t want maternal pressure to leave the bayou for good and “resume her rightful position as the best siren of the sea”—words her mother eschewed with increasing regularity. Mom had gone from baffled to miffed to frustrated over the past few visits.

A few minutes of silence descended before Jet spoke up. “You okay?”

“Nothing I can’t handle. She’ll just pester me to take my rightful place with other merfolk.”

Jet regarded her, eyes direct, brows knitted and chin down. A fierce look that Lily knew masked concern. “Not such a bad idea. Especially with this Twyla business.”

“Twyla still bothering you?”

Lily jumped at Opal’s voice and cast a furtive look at Jet, wondering how much Opal had overheard. She patted the seat for Opal to sit down. “Maybe.”

She stirred the color and developer together and brushed streaks of color on Opal’s hair. The bright colors should perk up the rather plain face with its scattering of freckles and a slight scar that spread across one cheek. “This is a temporary dye,” she explained. “You can try out the effect and see how you like it.”

Jet persisted with her questioning. “What does maybe mean? Either she is or isn’t bugging you.”

“I got several hang-up calls last night. They never spoke. After the third one, I turned off my ringer.” The scissors trembled slightly in Lily’s hands as she trimmed a few uneven locks of Opal’s hair. “When I checked this morning there were seven missed calls and no voice-mail messages.”

“Ouch!” Opal swiped the side of her neck and stared at a blood splash on her fingers.

“I am so sorry.” Lily grabbed a towel and wiped the nick. “That’s never happened before.” Geez, how embarrassing.

“No problem, I’ll live,” Opal assured her.

Jet cut in, still focused on the phone calls. “Did you call back the number on the screen?”

“Of course. But I got a recording saying the number was no longer in service. Must have used a throwaway phone.”

Opal circled her index finger around her right temple. “Somebody’s cra-zee.”

“Say the word and I’ll have Landry talk to Twyla,” Jet said.

“No need to drag him into it.” Lily didn’t want her brother-in-law knowing her business.

A collective mewling of cats turned their attention to the shop front. More than half a dozen felines in various colors and sizes perched along the window ledge, motionless and unblinking except for licking their mouths. As if they observed a delectable treat fit for a feast.

Jet frowned. “We ought to bring Rebel to chase them away.”

“Dog’s so ugly he wouldn’t even have to bite or bark to scare them,” Lily said drily, returning to the familiar routine of coloring and styling hair.

The three settled into a comfortable silence as Jet continued crunching numbers and Opal observed Lily at work.

A loud rap on the front window scared off their cat stalkers. A husky guy wearing a camouflage shirt waved and motioned for someone to open the locked door.

“Who’s that?” Opal asked.

Lily unfastened her apron with a sigh. “Gary.”

“Thought you broke it off with him,” Jet said.

“I did.”