Mermaids of Glendale - a novel

Chapter 9

Lorna slowly flapped her tail, the delicate edges of her caudal fin brushing against the chrome grill work of the SUV as she leaned back against the windshield, trying to ignore the hard edges of the wiper blades digging into the small of her back. She'd taken this modeling job at the Acura of Glendale dealership because it was going to pay five hundred dollars for the weekend. The bills had to get paid somehow and, for a down-on-her-luck mermaid, Lorna O'Shene didn't have a whole lot of better options right now.

The hot southern California sun shone down on the parking lot of the dealership at the corner of Lomita and Brand, heating the hood of the SUV. Lorna felt as though all that remained was for her to be wrapped in tinfoil and served with herbs and a lemon wedge.

The manager of the dealership, Con Costa, a tall Mediterranean man in a mismatching blue pinstripe suit and tan penny-loafers, wandered the lot with a buffing cloth, fastidiously rubbing the fingerprints of potential customers off the windows and paintwork.

Come meet the mermaid of Glendale at Acura of Glendale, said the hand-painted sign leaning against the SUV that Lorna was perched on. Have your photo taken with the YouTube sensation! No money down on approved finance!

So far, nobody had wanted their photo taken with Lorna.

She’d worn a modest tankini swimsuit top, carefully selected to match the coloring of her tail and to also not reveal too much skin – Lorna didn’t think she was being paid quite enough to wear the barely-covering string bikini Con had suggested. At least he hadn’t insisted further beyond Lorna’s objections.

It had been a little over two weeks since her transformation at Aquarium of the Pacific, since she had fallen into the sea lion pool – and since her kiss with Kitt. Despite the heat of the day, Lorna experienced a delightful little shiver at the memory of his lips against hers, silencing her words.

I think I’m a mer-

Kitt had told her that the evidence was to the contrary, that she wasn’t a mermaid, and that she was, in fact, something else entirely – he just didn’t know what that was. And then, at their most perfect moment together, Lorna held in Kitt’s arms on the concrete apron beside the sea lion tank, a door was pushed open and Dr. MacAvoy ran into the staff-only area of the Aquarium.

“Oh, Kitt,” said Dr. MacAvoy “You found her, she’s okay!”

“She’s okay,” agreed Kitt. He wrapped the towel a little tighter around Lorna, stood up and helped Lorna to her now fully-restored feet.

“Hello, Dr. MacAvoy,” said Lorna. “Heck of a party, huh?”

“Lorna, please, call me Rita,” said Dr. MacAvoy. “Are you injured? Do you need a doctor? A medical doctor, I mean.”

“No,” said Lorna, shivering a little but thankful for the towel and the sense-memory of Kitt’s arms having been around her, holding her close. She looked at Kitt. His clothes were soaked from her body being pressed against him. “I-I think I’m going to be okay.”

“Excuse me, lady,” said a voice nearby, pulling Lorna back into the present, her body now pressed against the hard unyielding SUV, her lower back and butt beginning to ache from the awkward position.

“Excuse me, lady,” said the voice again, a little girl about eight years old. “Is that a real tail?”

“It’s a real tail, alright,” said Lorna, trying to give the child her most winning smile. It felt foreign on Lorna’s lips, like the smile forced at a funeral to accompany the kind words of well-wishers.

The girl shook her head.

“It doesn’t look real,” said the girl. “Are you sure you’re a mermaid?”

No, kid, thought Lorna. No, I’m not sure what I am.

“Come along now, Andrea,” said the girl’s mom, a tall brunette in a grey pants suit. “Leave the nice mermaid alone, she’s sunning herself like reptiles do.”

“Bye-bye, mermaid lady,” said the girl, hand-in hand with her mom, waving back with her other hand as she was led out of the car lot.

“Aww,” said Con Costa, walking over to the SUV. “I thought she would be a customer. The mother, I mean. An SUV is the perfect family conveyance.”

Lorna looked at her turquoise-strapped Kate Spade wristwatch. Lorna had been wearing it the night she fell into the sea lion tank at the Aquarium and it hadn’t been working ever since, but Lorna wore it as a reminder of that night with Kitt, his arms wrapped around her, his lips pressed against hers.

“Oh, my goodness,” said Lorna, regardless. “Is that the time? I’m sorry, Mr. Costa, but our time is up.”

“What? Oh, ah, yes, yes, of course. I have your check right here.”

Con reached into the pocket of his suit jacket and fished out a check. Lorna was grateful for the job.

“You maybe will come again? For the Thanksgiving weekend sale event, perhaps?”

“We’ll see, Mr. Costa,” said Lorna. She took the check from Con, slipped it into the front of her tankini top and slid off the hood of the SUV. As Con continued to wander the Acura lot with his buffing cloth, Lorna hopped across the dealership on her caudal fin, going quickly to reduce her time on the sun-heated asphalt. Lorna went into the showroom, entered Mr. Costa’s office and closed the door behind her for privacy. Leaning against the desk, Lorna tucked her thumbs into the shimmery scales at her hips and started to push downwards, loosening the Lycra and silicone body stocking. Lorna wriggled free of the tail, laid it flat on the carpeted floor and rolled it up, folding in the silky edges of the caudal fin and then placing the tail into a brown paper Whole Foods grocery bag. Lorna changed into her comfy Victoria’s Secret track pants and hooded sweatshirt, pulled out her cell phone and made three phone calls.

The first phone call was to Clint.

“Hello, Mermaids of Glendale, relaxation from tip to tail, this is Clint.”

“Hey, Clint, it’s Lorna.”

In the past couple of weeks, Clint had reached out to Lorna, wanting her to know that he had nothing to do with the debacle of the proposed reality TV show that Dame Kilroy had been so keen on. Lorna took advantage of Clint’s attrition and asked if -- through any of his movie industry contacts and spa clients -- he knew where to get a good quality mermaid costume from. Clint had supplied the name of a special effects guru at Warner Bros who owed Clint a favor.

“Thanks again for the tail, Clint. It’s working out great.”

“Well, thank you, Lorna,” said Clint. “Getting back in touch with Thomas has been wonderful. I’m seeing him later tonight and, who knows, maybe even tomorrow morning!”

Lorna’s second phone call was to her sister, Marina.

“Hi, Marina, are we still on for drinks this evening?” asked Lorna, keen to catch up with her sister but also cautious of the risk of spending the money she’d worked to earn. Being a mermaid was so hard!

“Lorna, hey,” said Marina. “Sure, we are. Oh my goodness, you can meet the new guy I like!”

“Whatever happened to the guy from Newport?”

“Lorna, we are so over. Turns out he was still married! No, I think you’ll like this one. He’s a scientist, isn’t that fun? Maybe we can double-date.”

“What?” asked Lorna, a sick feeling slipping into her stomach like an oil slick on the ocean.

“His name’s Arnold. He works with marine animals.”

Oh, God.

“Marina, I’ll see you soon,” said Lorna, ending the phone call.

Lorna made her third phone call.

“Hey, Lorna, how are you?” answered Kitt’s familiar voice, the warm rumble of his slight accent.

“Kitt,” said Lorna. “We may have a problem.”