Mermaids

Epilogue

I woke up at seven thirty, like any other Sunday. The sky was clear, and I could hear the waves roaring from right next to the house.

I sat up on the large bed, rubbing my disheveled hair. Something was going to happen today, but I couldn't remember what. I stood up and opened the dresser, taking out a shirt and putting it on.

I walked quietly down the hallway into the kitchen, where I turned on the coffee maker. As it was heating up the water, I took a seat on the stool, staring out at the shoreline through the large French doors.

I loved this house--I could hear the waves from here, a perfect sound to wake up to.

The coffee was ready and I took a mug and served some, before settling back in the chair and waiting.

It was summer, so normally I would see tourists or locals setting up on this portion of the beach, but today it was closed off. I technically owned this part, but usually opened it to the public.

I finished my coffee around eight, and put the mug in the --unfortunately full from last night's dishes-- sink.

The house was a single-storied, two bedroom house. The perfect size, I had thought when I bought it. Now, it was just a little small. The sink was always full, and new messes appeared constantly.

I walked down the hall, before turning into the girls' room. I passed the bunk bed, and opened the light blue curtains.

"Mia," I whispered, gently shaking her awake. I had always woken her up first; she was generally more of a morning person than her sister, Ashley.

"Wha," she said groggily.

"It's morning," I said, ruffling her already messy hair. It was brown, like mine, but a little lighter.

"Oh," she said, sitting up and rubbing her eyes with her small hands.

I walked over to Ashley's bed, who was snoring. Her snores weren't terribly loud, at least in comparison to her mother's snores.

They were significantly louder.

I shook her awake, knowing that it would take a lot more effort to wake her up than her sister.

She flopped over on her side dramatically. "Go away," she mumbled, and I began to tickle her.

"No, stop!" She shouted in her sleepy voice, laughing loudly. Finally, she jumped off her bed, and crossed her arms, frowning at me.

I mimicked her expression, noticing Mia covering her head with her pillow. Ashley's frown deepened.

"If you go, I'll get ready." Ashley commanded, her high pitched voice harshening. I knew there was a joking undertone in it, otherwise she wouldn't have smiled as I left the room, closing the door behind me.

What was next? Oh, right, breakfast. I went back to the kitchen and popped in a few slices of toast for the girls. I had learned to cook over the last fifteen years that I lived on land. Not too well, I'll admit. But, Mia had demonstrated an interest in cooking, and at seven years old--with my supervision--she cook bake cakes and casseroles. Especially casseroles, which was her favorite thing to cook.

I pulled orange juice, butter, and jam out of the fridge, setting them down on the table and taking the lids off. I grabbed some of the few remaining clean dishes, and set them on the table.

I reflected upon the last few years--I had gotten my high school diploma about a year before Mia and Ashley were born. While I was studying, I took an apprenticeship in an auto-repair shop. Though I didn't like it at first, I began to grow an appreciation for it. That was eight years ago; now I had a stable job as the manager of my own repair shop. I planned on attending a university, but that currently seemed out of the question.