Free Adrift by Elizabeth A. Reeves

“I’ve got things handled here and you’ve been inside all day working.  I bet your back needs a break as badly as mine.”
    I stood up stretching.  My back was stiff and sore.  It was as good a time as any for a break.
    I took a walk down by the water.  No matter where I was, I could feel it calling to me.  Every day the pull grew stronger, and I had to fight a little bit harder all the time not to just jump in and let the water do what it would with me, without caution or care.
    I walked the very edge of the pebble shore, letting the tide lap at my toes.  Kip bounded past me, half of a young tree in his mouth.  He jumped straight into the water, drenching me with spray.
    “You’re tempting fate,” Devin said.  I turned to face him, but he looked past me, watching his dog.  “With your selkie blood you are vulnerable to the ocean.  If you let your guard down for one minute, you’ll cave in.  You are not your mother, Meg.  You would drown.”
    I shivered, whether at the coldness of his tone or his words, I couldn’t be sure.  I folded my arms across my chest and kicked at the pebbles under my feet.  Part of me knew that Devin was right. It screamed to me that I was in mortal danger, just looking out at the ocean.  The rest of me just didn’t care. The water was calling and I ached to answer.
    “I’m OK,” I said, more to fill the long silence than anything.  Perhaps I was trying to reassure myself.
    “No, you’re not.”  Devin’s eyes were suddenly on mine and I felt the impact like a fist in the gut.  “You’re in mortal danger every day you are here.  Haven’t you considered that your father kept you away from the water to keep you safe?”
    I hunched my shoulders.  “Please, don’t talk about my father like you knew him,” I whispered, in a voice so tiny that even I could barely hear it.
    Devin leaned closer.  “What?”
    I shrugged.  “Nothing.”  I touched my chest where the gaping hole that my father had left in my soul was. 
    Kip bounced out of the water and shook himself off, splattering us with water and muck.  He dropped his stick at my feet and fanned his tail, looking up at me as if he were trying to offer comfort to my wounded heart.
    I knelt down to scratch his ears, not minding the pungent scent of wet dog.
    Devin watched Kip with that guarded look I saw so often on his face.  He looked worried, even sad, but I knew better by now than to ask him what was bothering him.  He didn’t want anything from me.
    “I’ll go,” I said, suddenly.  “I know you want me to.  Just give me a little more time, and I’ll go and you won’t have to worry about me ever again.”  My heart pinched at the thought of leaving Maura and the new life I was discovering every day.
    He looked at me, sharply.  “Go where, exactly?”
    I shrugged.  “I don’t know.  Anywhere, I guess.”
    His shoulder eased and he looked away, out at the horizon.  “You don’t have to do that.”
    I looked up in surprise.
    “Stay,” he said, awkwardly.  “That is, if you want to.  Stay as long as you want.”
    He turned on his heel and marched away before I could do more than gape at him.  Kip heaved to his feet and grabbed up his stick, following loyally after his master.  He looked back at me once, wagging his tail, then the pair disappeared around the corner of the house.
     
    Dinner was an awkward affair.  As if to repent of his kindness to me, Devin was extra cross while we ate.  He scowled at all of us, even Maura.  He snapped at Kip when the golden dog begged for scraps, and stalked away after eating, with barely a word and a kiss on the cheek for his mother.  He disappeared out the door, as stiffly as if he were heading out for the firing squad.
    Maura watched his departure with raised brows.  “Well, someone is having himself a little tantrum, it seems.”  She shrugged to herself, bemused. 
    I was troubled.  Should I tell Maura that it was my fault?  That Devin