Of Poseidon 02: Of Triton

at the same time.
    Life just got sucky.
    Real tears well in my eyes, but not the kind Mom is hoping for. She nods, misled sympathy etched into her features. “I’m sorry, sweetie. I know you really cared about him.”
    I nod, too, and force the next words out of my mouth. Words that may or may not be true. “I’ve been so stupid, Mom. I believed everything he said. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”
    Mom gets up from the chair and sits next to me on the bed, pulling me to her with one arm. “Sweetie, you don’t have anything to apologize for. It was your first taste of love, and Galen took advantage of you. I’d like to say that’s only a Syrena trait, but it could have happened with any human boy, too. I’m here for you. We’ve got to stick together, you and me.”
    The sincerity in her voice makes me feel as big as a thimble. Not only is she hurting for herself, and reliving Grom’s loss, but she’s hurting for me, and what she perceives as my loss of Galen. Whether it really is my loss of Galen remains to be seen, but I let her hold me anyway because I’m not brave enough to look into her eyes. Finally, she says, “I’m going to take a shower and wash the travel off me. Then we’ll see about dinner, and make a game plan together. Sound good?”
    I nod and she squeezes my shoulder. She smiles the “mother smile” before she goes into the bathroom. When I hear the shower curtain close, I pick up the phone.
    Galen’s wary voice answers. “Hello?”
    “Hi,” I tell him, just as wary. In the background I hear a muffled hum and wonder where he is.
    He breathes a sigh into the phone. “Emma.” The way he says my name hurts me and excites me at the same time. Hurts, because what if Mom’s right, and he’s using me? Excites, because what if she’s wrong, and he really does care about me enough to sound like my calling him completed his life? “What happened?” he says.
    Before I can answer, I hear Rayna in the background. “I already told you what happened. Her mother is crazy as a caught fish.”
    I snicker, but then peek at the bathroom in guilt. Lowering my voice, I say, “Yeah, pretty much. We’re at a hotel in…”
    I fumble through the nightstand drawer as quietly as I can, looking for the usual motel stationery. Picking up the notepad, I tell him, “I’m in Uptown. At the Budget Motel.”
    “I know,” he says. “Rachel tracked you down by your mom’s credit card. We’re on our way.” Of course Rachel found us. Being an ex-mobster makes you a Swiss Army knife of Skills People Shouldn’t Know. I just didn’t realize she would do it this fast. I won’t underestimate her again.
    It sounds like Galen covers the phone with his hand. I hear something clink in the bathroom and I shove the notepad back in the drawer. “I don’t have a lot of time,” I whisper into the phone. “Mom’s in the shower, but she’ll be out soon.” I realize Mom takes short showers, not because she’s a busy ER nurse who’s eternally on call, but because, like me, she can’t enjoy the luxury of hot water. Her Syrena skin is too thick to feel the heat. For her—and for me now—showering is just a matter of hygiene. There is no lingering for enjoyment anymore.
    “Galen,” I blurt. “Mom thinks Grom is dead. She thinks you’re going to arrest her for his murder.” I’d meant to keep that a secret until I could see his reaction in person, but the bigger part of me couldn’t keep it in. Now I’ve given him a chance to come up with a good story and make it sound believable. You know, if he’s not already telling the truth.
    Silence. Then, “Emma, Grom is sitting next to me. He’s not dead. Why would she think that?” There’s a weirdness to his voice though. Something feels off. Or does it? Am I being hyper-paranoid?
    “I don’t have time to explain. I think she just turned the shower off.”
    “Do you think she’d believe it if she talked to him on the phone?”
    I think about that for a second. It’s possible we could end this madness right now. Put Grom on the phone and have him chitchat with her until she’s satisfied it’s him. But Mom’s so adamant that Galen can’t be trusted that she’d probably just write it off as a trick. Then she’d know that I called Galen, and she wouldn’t trust me anymore, either. And she’d know Galen has a way of tracking us. The best way is to bring Grom to her in the flesh—if Grom really is alive.
    It hurts to have to think in that