Free A Sea Change by Annette Reynolds Page A

watching her carry on a deep, meaningful conversation with the huge creature. It was the first time he’d really thought of his daughter as the only good thing to come of his marriage. Up till then he’d always tried to rationalize the years he’d spent with Janet. Surely there’d been something right about them.
    Now he was beginning to understand there hadn’t. Janet had never loved him. What Janet adored was being the wife of a major league ballplayer. She enjoyed thinking of herself as “somebody important.” Her words.
    Nick, on the other hand, simply worked hard and loved what he did. He didn’t care about being a star. He just went out there every day and did his job. And he’d done it damned well. He’d spent his entire career as a catcher, and had been lucky enough not to have the knees to show for it. He’d been 35 years old when he’d been forced to quit. Sure, his career was starting to wane, but he’d still had a couple of good years left. And Janet understood enough about baseball to feel the impending loss of status. By that time she’d already begun belittling him. The accident took care of the rest of his ego. Not that he ever believed what happened was really an accident.
    Nick hardly ever felt even a twinge of pain anymore, but now his hand unconsciously went to his right shoulder and he began to absent-mindedly rub it. He stared out at the Narrows with unseeing eyes and forced the past to move on.
    He focused on Becky’s dinner conversation and tried to remember what she’d talked about. Mary, of course. The color of her Little League uniform – blue and white. Last week’s episode of The Simpsons . Her visit to the mermaid.
    “I was sitting on the mermaid’s tail and this lady took my picture, Daddy.”
    He’d stopped eating, concerned.
    “What lady?”
    “I dunno. But she was nice. She asked me first.”
    Becky wasn’t supposed to talk to strangers, and she’d quickly gone on to something else in hopes of distracting him. It didn’t, but he let it go. This was Salmon Beach, not Seattle.
    Nick yawned, then shivered. Twilight settled over the beach. The tide was coming in and he heard, more than saw, a salmon jump. A bank of fish-scale clouds had moved in from the south. They meant change. It would probably be raining by morning. He stood and stretched, unprepared for the feeling of restlessness that had suddenly come over him. He looked over at Jaed’s house.
    The light was on in the dining area, but there was no sign of Maddy. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, Nick saw her standing on the deck. She faced away from him, so still he almost thought he’d imagined her. He knew that he had only to speak in a normal tone of voice and the sound would carry across. He was about to say her name when her phone rang. She turned her head, startled, then ran inside.
    He didn’t move. Just kept watching. He didn’t want to relinquish this proof of another living being just yet. It would be lonely enough later.
    The caller was making her angry. She paced in front of the French doors, receiver tight against her head, telephone clutched in her other hand. Then she came to a sudden stop, and Nick heard Maddy’s raised voice, but not her words. Ex-husband? Ex-lover? He didn’t know for sure. What he did know was he’d been there and done that.
    Placing the phone on the table, Maddy slammed the receiver down and the drama was over. No – there was one final act. He watched as she put her hands to her face and cried. She stood like that for several minutes, body shaking, and then her head came up as she pushed her fingers through her hair.
    “Life sucks, Maddy,” he whispered. “I know.”
     His own phone rang a few minutes later.
    “Nick, I have a report for you.”
    “If it’s about the woman in Number Seventy-Six, George, I’ve got it under control.” He checked, but Maddy had disappeared again. “Train your telescope on someone else. Y’know, one of these days you’re