"Melody said she last saw her in the portrait gallery," Ariel offered, the thinnest excuse she could come up with. "And then that new girl, I think her name is Francesca? She said she passed her on her way to the study."
"We checked those places, though." Eric sighed, his mind drawing up blanks. "I feel like we've checked everywhere at this point, short of her going to the village."
Ariel shook her head. "The guards wouldn't let her go anywhere, Captain Raleigh told them this morning that they're to send her back if she gets up to the gate."
"Well, what about the beach? We haven't checked there."
Again, Ariel shook her head, making a frustrated noise from the back of her throat. She pushed back her hair with the hand that was not wrapped up. "I'm telling you, she's in this palace. I know she is."
"Remind me again why we let her out of our sight in the first place?" Eric wondered, pushing the door open for his wife. The music room was empty, but Ariel still proceeded to start checking under every surface.
"She was falling asleep in the study, and we thought it would be a good idea to let her spend the night absorbing everything," Ariel explained absently, stooping down to look under the piano. No such luck.
"No, I got that part," he argued, leaning against the doorframe, "what I'm trying to understand is, why did we put her in the guest wing?"
"Because," Ariel answered once more, this time busy checking behind the piano, "there is no other place for her to sleep."
"What about her room?" Eric asked. Ariel head whipped around to stare at him, a frown settling on her features. "I know, I know, we only go in there a few times a year, but none the less, it is her room. Also, it's closer to us."
"First of all, unlocking that room is a pain, the key is half rusted." She huffed, putting one finger in the air as she named the problems off. "Second, it needs to be aired out for at least a week, because the amount of dust in there in incredible. And third, I think seeing a mountain of gifts might actually make her wonder if we're insane."
"All those gifts are hers, though." Eric pointed out. "And it's not a mountain. They've gotten smaller as she's gotten older."
"The only reason they look that way is because I went in there and organized it not too long ago," Ariel said flippantly.
"I was wondering when you were going to admit to that." He replied smoothly, raising a single brow when she turned to him slowly, as though suddenly realizing what she had said, and what he had answered with.
Her eyes went colossal, and there was a twinge of guilt in them. "You know I went in? Without you?"
"I've known for fourteen years, darling." He responded, his own features drawn into a serious look, watching her reaction.
"We promised that we wouldn't go in alone, because it might be too much, and we have Melody to think about," she said slowly, as though not comprehending why he didn't seem upset.
Eric rolled back his shoulders, clearing his throat slightly. "Some promises are meant to be broken, it seems. I do it too, if that helps at all."
"Oh, I've known that, you're terrible at hiding things," she waved it off, the bandage gleaming in the sun streaming from the window. "I just…I was so tired. Being in what should have been her room, it made me feel like…like maybe..."
"I understand," he answered, knowing what she was trying to say, "I probably understand better than anyone, Ariel.
"I know, I know," Ariel said, giving a mighty sigh as she sunk down onto the piano bench, glumly resting her face in her one good hand, while the other lay wrapped up in her lap. "Are we crazy, Eric?"
"In what sense?"
"Are we crazy to think that we can actually get a daughter out of this stranger who suddenly just appeared?"
Coming to sit by her, Eric wrapped an arm around her small frame, careful with her ribs. She rested her head against his shoulder, feeling the rumble of his voice as he talked. "You know we're going to figure this out. We've spent fourteen years wishing we could, and now we finally have a chance; is it crazy to want to be happy? She is ours."
"But is she really, though?" Ariel asked, pushing away from her husband to look at his eyes. "I mean, she's made it through her formative years without even knowing us. What if we're too late? What if I'm too late?"
"You're not usually a pessimist," Eric frowned at her, not following her line of thought. "What's going on?"
"I don't know if I can do this," she finally admitted, her fingers jittery on her lap. "I mean, look at me, I'm searching for her under the piano, because I don't even know where else to look! I know nothing about her. I always just thought…they all said not to give up hope, but it's hard not to. At least when there's no trace of her anywhere, and everyone was so sad, I just figured that...that…"
His grip on her tightened. She was speaking the cold, hard truth, one they had never admitted aloud, for fear that it may have happened. After a year goes by, then two, then five, and a decade comes next, the hope of ever finding her, not even alive, was as fickle as a flame.
"I understand," he started, slowly gathering his words together. "I lived it just as much as you have, and after so long, it just…but we can't give up. She's here, Ariel, you said so yourself that she's home. No more breaking down, no more sad looks, no more hoping; we have our daughter back. It's…an adjustment, but things will get better."
Ariel looked up at him, and seeing the encouragement in his eyes, but not feeling confident in herself. "I hope you're right."
He said nothing, instead leaning over to press a kiss against her temple, before standing up and offering a hand. "Continue searching for her before dinner?"
Ariel took his hand, feeling herself being pulled up, and nodded in agreement. "Did you notice that one conversation and Melody seems convinced the girl isn't pulling the wool over our eyes?"
Eric shook his head. "Melody is just seeing what we saw. Granted, she's got a few…quirks, but she's also lived differently. I think she'll eventually adjust; you managed."
"I was raised in a palace, though, not a village surrounded by farmland." Ariel answered, making a face at the idea. She wasn't sure where they were going now, but decided to let her husband lead, mostly because her ideas were running thin. "I was raised with etiquette drilled into me like a soldier, she hasn't been."
Eric turned her face to her, raising a single eyebrow on his imploring features. "You brushed your hair with a fork."
Ariel narrowed her eyes. "It was one time, and I thought it was a dingelhopper!"
"You still brush you hair with a fork," he intoned, grinning when she punched him lightly in the arm.
"It's not a fork, it's a hairbrush that you gave me in the shape of one, I don't know why you're trying to act like you're innocent in all this."
"I never claimed to be, I was just pointing out the obvious, darling." He returned, kissing her cheek, though she swatted at him half-heartedly.
She tried to pull a face, but instead a smile broke out across her face. "You're a pain in my neck, you know that?"
"Yes, but you love me anyway." He answered, grinning as well.
Pushing her hair back, she finally made that face at him, no longer paying any attention to where they were going. "You are the most exasperating—"
She stopped short when Eric did as well, nearly falling into him because she hadn't expected his movement to suddenly decrease. He went still, eyes zeroing in on something straight ahead. She looked to where he was, breath catching in her throat as she did.
A figure, small statured, in blue trousers, and pink long sleeves over a plain shirt, was slowly circling the room. That is to say, with her mouth agape, she had her head leaned back as far as possible, her feet moving slowly in a 360 degree turn, over and over.
Ariel stood silently, watching. She would have been content to stay there for longer, studying the mesmerized look on the girl's face, on her daughter's face. Unfortunately, Eric took it upon himself to start walking down the steps, his features smoothed away into a careful mask of cautiously regarded optimism. She straightened her shoulders, trying to seem regal, and did the same, lifting the hem of her dress as she descended down to the ballroom.
At the sound, the girl turned her head quickly. Like a flash of lightening, her surprised features disappeared and her guard was back in place. She took two or three steps back as well, the marble floors echoing against her sloppy footing.
"We've been trying to find you all day," Eric said as he reached the last step, just out of arm's length away from the girl. "How have you been?"
"I was tryin' to find my way around. You guys got a really big house." She ignored his second question, eyes lifting to him, and then to the floor. She heard another set of feet join his, and automatically shifted back another step.
"It's a bit confusing at first, but eventually it starts to feel like home." Ariel shrugged, a tentative smile lifting at her features.
Marcie scuffed her shoes on the floor, obviously uncomfortable, and changing the subject. "My whole school could fit in here, and that's from kindergarten to twelfth grade."
"Like I said last night," Eric answered, ready with his reply, "It's a very big home for us."
"Yeah, I guess," the girl replied, the awkward pause-and-go of this conversation making it feel very one-sided. Tired of the run around, she lifted her head to meet their eyes, deciding to get to the point. "Did you find a way for me to get home, yet? Is that In-Between thing you were talkin' about working now?"
Both adults shared a look, a fleeting glimpse of guiltiness between them. They hadn't even thought about making good on their promise to the girl. In the happiness of having her back, they didn't even want to imagine finding a way for her to disappear once more.
"We started," Ariel said, biting her lip as she trained her focus onto the girl's shoes, "but there's still a lot of research we still have to do."
"It's going to take awhile to really…understand everything." Eric agreed, a lump of shame growing in his throat as he said it. "Unfortunately, it's a long process.
Neither of their eyes met Marcie's. A bloom of fear erupted in her chest; what if they were lying to her? What if they weren't actually doing any research, at all? She pushed it down and tried to think she was too paranoid.
"Oh." She scuffed her shoe against the marble floors again, eyes turning back to the ground. "Just…please try and figure it out quick, okay? By now Em's gotta be freaking out, 'cause I always tell her if I'm missing school, since we ride the bus together."
Ariel pushed her self-reproach aside, asking slowly at the unfamiliar name, "Em is…?"
"Emma's the closest thing I got to a sister. She lives across the street from me," Marcie looked up now, thinking as her lips twisted to the side. "I'm pretty sure she also thinks she's me and Matt's mom, 'cause she kinda keeps us from doing the really stupid stuff."
The smile froze on Ariel's features. She tried very hard to school her face into a mask of simplicity, no pain allowed. It worked, but only because she was too hurt to really do anything else. Fourteen years she'd waited to be a mother to her daughter, and the girl already had someone filling out that part.
"Do you tend to get into trouble a lot then, you and your friends?" Eric asked, casting a sideways glance at his wife. Her smile was there, but it was obvious her mind was far away.
Marcie's face lit up with a rather mischievous smile. "It's not trouble if you don't get caught."
Eric frowned for just a second, processing what she said. Then, his own features split into a boyish half grin, a single dimple showing. "Fast on your feet, huh?"
"Yes, sir," the girl nodded, "I'm the fastest sprinter in my class. The trick is to run barefoot."
"Barefoot?"
Marcie shrugged at him. "Hey, I just figured that I didn't need all of 'em fancy "lightweight" sneakers when I had my own two bare feet; what could be more lightweight then that?"
"That's a…unique way of thinking," Eric replied, not quite sure that he agreed with her line of thinking, but not wanting to upset her; instead, he decided to change the subject. "It's just about dinnertime, you know."
"Is it?" The teen questioned, fiddling with her glasses behind her ear. "At home I just usually eat whenever."
"Your parents don't set a specific time for dinner?" Ariel finally asked, a bit of sharpness to her tone. If nothing else, there was a sincere undercurrent of jealousy, one that had brought her out of her thoughts.
She tiptoed her way down the stairs, skipping the fourth step because of the noise it would make. She made her way to the kitchen in the darkness, careful of the snores coming from the couch. The time on the microwave read 12:01.
She bypassed the fridge, wary of the stillness it would disrupt. Instead, she found her hand slipping into a slightly open cabinet, always left that way because of the broken hinge, pulling out a blue package of cookies. They rustled slightly; she held them tight to her chest.
Her stomach gurgled painfully when she reached the stairs again; she ignored it. Easily, she climbed back up, stopping at the second to last door in the hallway. She jostled the cookies under her arm, able to safely make a bit more noise now.
She knocked on the door with a fist, the sound small, but just loud enough. The door creaked open halfway, standing inside the room with a hand still on the knob, a boy of ten.
"Did you get it?" He sounded like he'd been crying, but the darkness from inside the room and the outside hall was masking his features. She nodded.
He gave a sigh of relief. "Good," he said, before yanking the cookies from her hands.
"I told you already, he is not my dad," Marcie replied, hostility marking her words.
"I'm just trying to understand," Ariel said slowly, realizing that somehow, she'd hit a sore point, one that needed further investigation. "What about the…the woman, he's currently married to?"
Marcie's brows furrowed, and she looked up at Ariel with confusion. "He's not married right now."
Ariel failed to keep the surprise off her face. This was news. She had just assumed…"But if he's not married, then how…?"
"Why do you wanna know?" The girl challenged, suddenly much more suspicious of Ariel's intentions. "It's none of your business, and I'll be gone soon anyway, so you don't have to care so much."
It shouldn't have irked her, but Ariel was already riled up and unhappy that this girl, her daughter, had filled in the position that she should have as a mother. "I don't think I like your tone, young lady."
Marcie dropped her eyes to the ground, shaking her head. "I don't like to talk about it. I gotta right to my privacy, ma'am.."
Just like that, Ariel's anger, her jealousy, dissipated. She realized how ridiculous she was being; the girl had done nothing wrong. There was no crime in trying to protect her family's image from the people she still viewed as strangers. It made her let out a breath in disappointment, all of it focused on herself.
"I'm sorry," Ariel said, ruefully. Marcie looked up in mild disbelief, because adults rarely ever admitted that they were wrong. "I got too upset; if you don't want to talk about the subject, we don't have to."
"That's right," Eric nodded in agreement, wrapping an arm around his wife's waist, mindful of her ribs, "You should feel at home, here."
They looked at her expectantly, reassuring smiles plastered on their faces. Marcie shifted her eyes between the two, unsure of what they wanted her to say next. In a very big way, she was glad that she'd be going back to her home soon.
"Uh…thanks?" She tried, not understanding completely why their grins dipped slightly under the weight of her words. She decided for one more try. "Uh…I'm still sorry 'bout your wrist, ma'am."
Ariel held up the bandaged appendage, as though admiring it. "It's fine, honey, it really doesn't even hurt."
"Which is miraculous, considering it's broken," Eric mumbled under his breath, grinning wolfishly when his wife shot him a look. "Kidding, darling, I know, it's just a sprain."
"Well, since you know so much, then I'm sure you've realized that we're most likely late for dinner?" Ariel questioned, a hand on her hip at the inquiry.
Eric faltered, unable to come up with a quick remark. Ariel's lips curled back in a laugh. "Come on, I'm hungry."
Knowing he'd been defeated in the battle of wits, Eric sighed dramatically, before offering his arm and smiling as well. "Whatever my lady wishes," he teased, as Ariel took his arm with a roll of her eyes.
They started to walk towards the dining room. Suddenly, Ariel paused, pursing out her lips, and whirling back around to the teenager. Surprisingly, the girl was still standing there, her gaze once more averted to her shoes.
"Well?" Ariel asked expectantly, causing the teen to look up. "Aren't you coming?"
"Comin' to what?"
"…dinner?" Eric provided, having turned around after his wife to see what the problem was.
Marcie blinked. "You guys want me to eat dinner with you?"
"What else do you think 'it's almost dinner' means?" He wondered, blue eyes searching for some sort of answer. But the matching pair behind glasses were cautious, as though the meaning was lost upon them.
"That it's almost dinnertime for you guys," Marcie intoned slowly. "What're you trying to say?"
Both adults shared a glance. Eric cleared his throat, as Ariel gave the girl a long look, obviously noting that the teenager looked like she'd been short on good meals for awhile. Feeling self-conscious, Marcie wrapped her arms tight against her middle, fidgeting.
"Meal times are family times," Eric said clearly, trying to dispel any uncertainties. However, the flash in the girl's eyes told him that he'd only succeeded in raising more.
"But I'm not family," she pointed out, despite the soft gasp that came from Crazy Lady Ariel.
"Of course you are!" She exclaimed, firm in her belief it seemed. "You're our daughter!"
The way she said it gave Marcie chills. After what seemed like an eternity, the girl's shoulders dropped, apparently reaching a decision. Hunger had won out. "I guess I'll come then."
Ariel felt like a giant lead weight was taken off her chest at her words, relief flooding through her. She wanted to do something, say something, but Eric beat her to it. "Glad to hear it. We should get going, though, Melody's not going to be happy waiting much longer."
He chuckled to himself at the thought, making as though to start moving again. Biting her bottom lip, Marcie took what little courage she had and asked, "But after dinner, you guys are gonna go back and see how to get me home, right? Maybe before tonight?"
That made both grownups come up short. Ariel felt the weight settle back on her chest, resisting the urge to shout at the girl, to shake her, to tell her that she was home, that they were her family.
Thankfully, Eric had a more diplomatic approach, although he avoided the girl's pitifully hopeful eyes. "Well…let's just see how everything is after dinner."
Marcie felt herself already clinging to the statement, putting everything she had into it. She'd never spent a night away from her town before, and she wasn't sure what would happen if she spent two. "OKay. So…dinner?"
Ariel nodded quickly, already pulling her husband along again, praying that her voice didn't betray the fear of being found out as a liar. "Yes, let's go already!"
Marcie trailed after them, making sure to stay a few steps behind, which wasn't hard because she was pulling him along at a really fast pace. She took one last look at the giant room before leaving, still not sure what it was for, but wishing she'd taken pictures.
"There you are!" Marcie heard the voice before she saw the owner of it, hearing the scraping back of a chair, and running footsteps, probably to the couple who'd just entered the room. "You know, usually I'm the one who's late!"
"Sorry Mel," came Eric's voice, "we sort of got caught up."
"Did you have a nice swim, honey?" That was Crazy Lady Ariel's voice. Marcie made a mental note that voices carried in this place; it was a good thing that she was naturally quiet.
"I did, the water was actually really warm, especially for it being so late in the season." Their footsteps were fading now, going away from Marcie. The teen realized she was dragging her feet, not feeling comfortable enough to intrude on this family.
Still, she reasoned, they had invited her to dinner. And she'd accepted, mostly because she never turned down free food, but still. She couldn't back out; it was now or never.
With a very heavy sigh, the girl rounded the hallway corner, trying to make her footfalls as quiet as possible as she stepped onto the checkered floor of the dining room.
It didn't work; her presence was immediately detected by Melanie, who swiveled around to stare at her. "I didn't realize we were having company."
Her voice fell flat, not exactly rude, but not exactly welcoming either. Marcie held her ground, staring the girl down. Melody broke after only a few seconds, casting her eyes aside in apparent embarrassment.
A hand fell on the girl's shoulder, with Marcie eyeing the three of them with a level of suspicion. "We thought it'd be nice if she started eating with us from now on."
Melody looked up at her father, frowning slightly, a tinge of jealousy seeping into her tone. "But I thought that was just for family?"
"We've had company over, before, Melody," her mother said, smoothing things over, "it's not much more difficult to set an extra place."
"But usually that company leaves afterwards, they don't stay for breakfast, lunch, and dinner from now on," Melody answered, dryly.
Marcie made a face, wanting to retort that he wasn't here by choice, but something caught her eye. Curiously, she looked to her right, at first glancing at the setting sun. Earlier she had not been able to see out the floor-to-ceiling windows, but now that the glare had all but disappeared, had a clear view. And it perplexed her.
"What's that?" Marcie wondered, her feet moving to the window, here eyes growing wide with fascination.
"The window?" Melody supplied in an obvious sort of tone, walking towards whatever the other girl was being drawn to. Her parents exchanged a look between them, before following her, equally confused.
Marcie's didn't look back, as her face was nearly pressed against the glass, although she snapped, "I know it's a window, I'm not stupid. It's what's outside of the window that I don't get."
Ariel frowned, casting a glance out, but not finding anything. "What are you looking at?"
"Look, see where the sun is?" Marcie instructed, figuring that was the easiest part to point out. Three heads turned to look at the low setting of the orange ball of light, nodding. "It's all the stuff around it. It's like, blue, and it's moving. I think it's…is that a lake?"
"Wait," Eric paused, suddenly theorizing of what the girl may be talking about, "Do you mean the sea?"
Marcie gaped, looking up at him with wide eyes. "Is that what it is?"
Eric sighed, running a hand through his hair. Hadn't the girl mentioned something yesterday about living a thousand miles from the nearest ocean? It seemed like so long ago.
"If it's what I think you're talking about, then yes, that's it."
"Wow…" She managed, taking it all in. "You guy have got some awesome views. It looks so close."
"It's right downstairs, actually, there are steps that lead straight to the beach," Ariel put mildly, leaning against the window as she studied the girl's reaction. You'd think she'd never seen it before!
"No way," Marcie managed, eyes growing even wider. "Now that's cool."
"It's nothing compared to what's underneath," Melody said, easily enough, grinning to herself as she pushed a lock of wet hair behind her ear. "You're acting like you've never even seen saltwater."
"I haven't, before now, at least," came the casual remark.
Had she been looking up, Marcie would have realized that two people in the room were looking at one another with alarmed features. Eric had already figured as much; Melody and Ariel, however, had a difficult time comprehending.
"I'm sorry, I don't think I understood, you weren't trying to say that you've never seen the sea before, were you?" Ariel confessed, questioning in an attempt to try and salvage something here.
Marcie's eyes finally were pulled away, and she looked at Ariel, realizing how close everyone was. She scooted away slightly, giving herself more room. "I've seen it in pictures and on T.V., does that count?"
Melody pushed forward, scrutinizing the other teenager. In response, the other girl took an automatic step back, hands rising in a defensive pose. "You've never seen the sea, in real life?"
"No."
"Never gone for just a quick swim in the water?"
"Nuh-uh."
"Not even gotten sand everywhere?"
"The closest ocean to me is in California, and to get to it I'd have to go through like, seven states," Marcie explained, rubbing the back of her neck awkwardly. "I don't think most people in my town have ever seen an ocean either. Why? What's the big deal?"
Melody looked like there could be nothing more shocking than hearing someone did not have the kind of access she had to water. "Because, you're half—"
"Half a world away, in…Amherst," Eric cut in, forcing a chuckle. His daughter gave him a wondering look as to why she'd been cut off, to which he ignored. "We should all sit down, I'm sure you're more than hungry."
Ariel caught on to what he was doing, nodding eagerly. "Yes, you must be starving, we didn't see you at lunch. Let's all just have a nice dinner."
As she stressed the last word, Ariel gave a clear look to her daughter…er, her dark-haired daughter. Remembering that Melody was no longer an only child was going to take some getting used to.
The girl gave a melodramatic sigh, making a face to her parents, who seemed set in their own features. She managed to mumble to herself as she walked off to her seat, "Fine, let's just forget about it, not like it's a big deal or anything…"
Marcie found a part of her curious to know what she was referring to. But Eric was giving her a hesitant, encouraging smile, nodding his head in the direction of the long table.
"Yeah, so, dinner," she echoed, not sure what else to say in this situation. She gave a long, slow look to the adults, before letting her gaze fall back to the floor and following her feet to the table.
There were four seats instead of three laid out now, she realized, noting that the lone one on the left side of the table was probably hers. She slipped into it. She hoped no one had gone through too much trouble to find an extra chair.
"This isn't gonna hold me," Marcie grunted, warily eyeing the rickety stool. Em looked over her shoulder for a second, before shrugging and returning to the stovetop.
"Too bad, you shouldn't have let Susie beat you to the good chair," Matt declared, earning a sour look from the younger girl, as they both set the table.
Marcie scowled, putting all twelve of her years into it. "I wasn't even paying attention! It shouldn't count if I wasn't paying attention!"
"Nuh-uh!" Susie butt in, lifting her chin in reproach as she placed a plate down. "It always counts when you guys do it to me!"
"That's not the same," Marcie waved it off, "See, if you were as old as us, then that's one thing, but since you're Em's kid sister, it's totally different."
"I'm no kid, I'm nine!"
"Yeah," Matt responded, raising himself up with a snort. "You shouldn't be talkin' anyway, you're the youngest one out of the three of us!"
The girl swiveled towards him on her heel, arms length away as she stated, "We're the same age, idiot!"
"Em's been thirteen for months, and my birthday's next week, so who's the real idiot?" He snapped back, dodging the fist sent in his direction.
"Can you guys stop cussing? We don't need to corrupt my little sister just yet," Em finally entered into the conversation, amidst the sounds of the stovetop's hissing dying down. "Besides, dinner's ready."
She turned around, noticeing Marcie still staring at the extra seat, the one that they'd pulled out of God-knows-where whenever more than four people ate at the table. "Are you gonna sit and eat?"
"Yeah," the redheaded teen answered, carefully plopping down onto the stool.
She was only sitting for a full three seconds before it made an odd squealing sound, and completely collapsed beneath her.
She landed on her back, staring up bewildered at the ceiling. From across the table, Matt laughed so hard eggs flew out of his mouth.
Marcie swung her legs in her seat, unable to keep still. She had a different view now than when she'd sat across the table during breakfast; she no longer saw the windows, but she could study the giant portraits lining the walls.
She pushed her glasses back up her nose, examining the paintings. She wondered how long it'd taken to paint them; days, weeks? And then, how did these people have so many, didn't they belong in museums? How'd they even get them up there anyway?
"…alright?"
A worried voice cut through her musings. Marcie jerked suddenly, looking up to see electric blue eyes filled with concern, and realized she was leaning on her elbows. The girl looked away, focusing on the details of the table.
"I was just thinking," she muttered, cheeks burning in embarrassment that she'd been caught staring.
"What about?" Melody asked, curious as to this girl's thought process.
Marcie shrugged by way of answer. She was unsure of how to explain everything that was going on in her head. She felt jumbled up at the moment.
When it became clear she was not going to speak on the subject any further, Eric cleared his throat, forcing small-talk as he turned to his dark-haired daughter, asking, "So Mel, did you learn anything interesting today?"
Melody tore her eyes away from the girl across the table, shooting them up to her father. "Not really, since my afternoon classes had to be canceled. It must be a terrible flu this year for my tutors to have all come down with it at once."
Ariel flitted a half-second look to her husband at that, but said nothing. She knew full well that her daughter's tutors' sudden cancellation was more about trying to appease Melody in this situation. They had both agreed that if Melody was able to spend more time in the sea, she would be happier, thereby making this entire process easier to handle.
"It happens," Eric shrugged, not giving away any indication as to his part in this. "But you got to spend the afternoon doing what you wanted, didn't you?"
"Oh, I'm not complaining!" The dark-haired girl answered hurriedly. "Trust me, I'd rather be swimming than stuck in some room learning about things that serve no purpose."
"But how would you know it serves no purpose if you never learned about it, hm?" A new voice intoned, making Marcie look up to see the woman from this morning squeezing Melanie's shoulder affectionately after filling her glass with water.
The girl pouted. "Well, I'd at least like a choice in what I was learning."
"You have a lot more say than anyone else your age," Ariel pointed out, sharing an amused look with the housekeeper.
"Not enough," Melody declared, still pouting as she crossed her arms over her chest. She looked up, caught the other girl watching the exchange, and suddenly had an idea.
"What about you? What kind of say do you have in your lessons?"
All eyes turned to the redheaded teen. She felt the weight of their stares, and tried hard to hold the girl's eyes. She had gathered, from the context of the conversation, that the other girl was homeschooled. "Um…after all the required classes, there's only like two classes to choose."
"Wait, who's requiring you to take classes in the first place?" Melody wondered, the idea odd to the girl who'd never been required to do anything in her life.
"Uh…the government, I think?" Marcie answered, chewing on her bottom lip. "I just show up and don't ask questions."
"Why not?"
"'Cause I don't want to be that jackass kid who asks if we have, like, homework right when everyone's packing up," Marcie tried to explain, as simply as possible.
Melody's head swiveled to her parents, a clear look of 'did-you-just-hear-what-I-heard' planted firmly on her face. Her mother and father didn't look happy, but they weren't saying anything about it either. They more or less let it slide, pretending as though the teen hadn't just sworn like a sailor.
"Well, I'm sure you're hungry, dear," Carlotta said smoothly, ignoring Melody's look of outrage at her calmness and filling the redheaded teen's glass. "You haven't had anything in hours."
"Who, me?" Marcie questioned, twisting in her chair to look at the woman, who nodded at her. "Uh, yeah, I guess."
"I'm starving," Melody complained, "What's for dinner?"
"Oh, Louis is trying some new recipes," the housekeeper waved it off absently, "He said tonight is butternut squash lasagna."
"That sounds good," Ariel said, pointedly looking at Marcie now. "Doesn't it?"
The girl regarded the woman for a moment, before shrugging, bringing her knees up to her chest, and slumping in the seat. Her knees rested against the table. Lasagna was lasagna, wasn't it? "I guess."
"It's probably not what you're used to, but I'm sure you'll like it," Eric tried, almost lamely to keep the conversation with her going on.
"Adam, are we poor?"
She asked the question bluntly, knowing no other way to phrase it at the grand age of five. Her brother, carrying his football pads and helmet in one hand looked down at her, frowning. His face was streaked with dried sweat and dirt, but his gray eyes had never seemed more intense.
"Do you know what being poor is?" He asked in response, having known already that she would shake her head no. "Well, it just means that we don't got a lot of extra stuff, but that's not so bad. Don't ever let someone try to tell you that they got more than you, 'cause you got just as much, just in a different way, alright?"
Something sparked behind her glasses, anger clouding her eyes. "What's that s'posed to mean?"
Too late, Eric realized he'd hit one of the girl's sore points. "I didn't—"
"Just 'cause we don't have lots of extra stuff don't mean anything. I got just as much as anyone, just not in the same way." Marcie retorted stubbornly, cutting off his apology before he could make it.
"I wasn't trying to say anything by it, and I'm sorry that I offended you," Eric explained, sighing as he ran a hand through his hair. This was proving to be harder than he had imagined.
"Why don't I see if Louis is finished yet?" Carlotta offered, straining to make things appear more normal. "Good food will do all of you some good."
"I'm still really hungry," Melody agreed, placing her hands over her stomach as though feigning that she was dying from hunger.
Marcie said nothing as the other woman's footsteps faded away, but she doubted the girl had ever felt a single hunger pain in her life. An awkward silence descended upon them all, as though everyone was afraid to say the wrong thing.
They stayed that way until the food arrived, and even after as they attended to their meals. Although, perhaps attended is the wrong word. The former family of three ate as they normally would, but the redheaded teen poked at her food with a fork, reaching over her still propped up knees to do so.
It looks like lasagna, she thought, but it doesn't smell like it.
Of course, she'd had frozen lasagna dinners before, but this didn't look like the same. She poked at it again with her fork. Sighing, Marcie twirled her fork on the edge of the plate, before finally stabbing it. From there she scooped up just enough, and let it hover inches from her mouth. She regarded it with wary eyes, still unsure, before popping it into her mouth.
It was…different.
She couldn't taste the marinara…or really anything besides a new flavor. It was a weird one, and the texture felt odd against her tongue as well. It wasn't terrible…but it wasn't something she'd want a second bite of.
She forced herself to swallow, making a face as it went down.
Resisting the urge to push the plate away, Marcie wondered if she could leave the table early. When she ate dinner at Matt's, she had to ask to be excused. She wondered if the same logic applied?
"Uh, can I go now?" Her voice sounded odd in the silence, and all three heads looked up.
"You've barely touched your dinner," Ariel said, her brows knitting together in concern. "Is something wrong? Do you not like it?"
"Nah," Marcie answered, poking at it still with her fork. Ariel noticed that even her grip on the utensil was odd, her fingers curling around it in a way that seemed uncomfortable. "It's not bad, it just tastes funny, not like regular lasagna."
"It's not regular lasagna, it's butternut squash lasagna." Melody pointed out, almost matter-of-factly.
"It doesn't matter, I don't eat vegetables anyway," the girl shrugged, making a face at the plate as she pushed it away from her.
Eric frowned. "Squash is a fruit."
Marcie gave him an incredulous look. "Okay, fine, I don't eat veggies and fruits."
"Why not?" Melody leaned forward, eyes glittering with the new knowledge.
Marcie shifted uncomfortably. "'Cause I don't like 'em."
"But why? There has to be a reason—"
"Mel, leave it," Eric cut her off, noticing that the other girl was starting to look uneasy. He was realizing that she often did that about things that shouldn't have made her feel that way. "If you don't like your dinner, I'm sure you could get something different."
"Um, it's okay, you know what? I'm really not that hungry anyway," the teen replied, just a little too quickly, looking down at her fidgeting hands.
"You should at least try to eat something," Ariel said, apprehension marking her gentle tone.
"No, honest, I'm not that hungry. Big breakfast, you know?" She wasn't really lying, it was true that she wasn't super hungry, only just a little.
Ariel and Eric exchanged a look. Had this been Melody, the excuse of 'I don't like it' wouldn't have flown. This, however, wasn't Melody, and the girl was so quick to feel either threatened, or unsure of what was going on. If they insisted on her eating, it could end very badly.
Eric finally sighed, feeling like he was between a rock and a hard place. "If you're sure you're not hungry, then I suppose it's alright,"
He was rewarded when the girl brightened, her face perking up with a relieved grin that showed one dimple. He felt a part of his heart melt at the sight; that was him in her, that was the part he had created. Despite everything, the immense happiness he felt that she was back, that his daughter was here, could not be described. It was almost like a dream.
"…can I go then?" Marcie wondered, pushing back her hair to rest behind her ear. She figured the earlier she left, the more time she could spend helping search for a way back home.
Another look. This time, Ariel spoke up, drawing her words slowly, in case she upset the girl. "I think it would be better if you stayed, even if you're not hungry, you should spend some time with…with the family."
She refrained from saying 'your family', though she could feel it hanging in the air like a weight. Still, the woman had a feeling that she wouldn't take too kindly to that particular phrasing. The girl was still clinging onto the slim hopes that she could return to Earth, to…to those other people.
Marcie tilted her head to the side, asking, "How come?"
"Because…" Ariel trailed off, the dozens of reasons drying out on her lips. "Because afterwards we'll all go down to the beach; you can see the ocean up close, for the first time, collect shells, go for a swim, that sort of thing."
She's bribing me, Marcie realized, she knows Matt would never believe me if I didn't have a picture.
She fiddled with the back of her glasses, adjusting them slightly to get a better look. The lenses weren't as strong as they used to be, but she expected nothing less from a pair she'd had for the past few years. She chewed on her thumbnail, internally struggling, before regarding Crazy Lady Ariel in a studious manner.
"Can I keep any shells I find?" She asked, and the snort that derived from Melanie made her blink with confusion.
"What else would you do with them?" The dark-haired girl asked, dryly.
She knew her comment was unwarranted, but she also didn't like the way her parents treated this girl. It was like they were stepping on eggshells around her, catering to her every whim! And it was unfair, because she didn't get that kind of special treatment.
"Melody…" Ariel warned, giving her daughter a serious sidelong glance.
"What? That's the entire point of collecting shells, isn't it?" She questioned, but it was done in a very teenage manner.
"Watch the attitude, Mel, you know better than that." Eric intervened, his own tone telling the girl to be cautious about the next words she choose.
Melody pursed her lips, but said nothing in response. Marcie thought she got off pretty easy. She would certainly be in a lot more trouble for back-talking at home. Subconsciously, her hand lifted to her other forearm, rubbing it through the fabric of the jacket as she became lost in her own thoughts.
"Anyway," Ariel said, turning from Melody and focusing her attention to Marcie now. "As long as no one is living inside of it, you can keep any of the shells you find."
"Oh, like hermit crabs?" Marcie asked, earning a nod for her efforts. "Ronnie had one and brought it to show-and-tell back when we were kids, its shell had a superhero symbol painted on it, which was really cool."
Melody tilted her head slightly in confusion. "But you said you don't live anywhere near the sea, how would your friend have found a hermit crab?"
"Uh…" Marcie responded, squinting as she thought hard, "I think he bought it from a pet store. I don't really remember, but I know he forgot to feed it and it died."
Melody's eyes widened. She whipped her head at her mother, whose face had gone pale, before asking in an alarmed voice, "He was keeping the poor creature as a pet?"
Marcie shrugged, saying, "Well yeah, what'd you think I meant? I mean, Ronnie can be a real idiot, but even he's got friends."
There was another rude word, making Melody look between her parents, expecting them to say something. At least, her mother, who was a mermaid, who should be totally against this, was staring at her plate of nearly finished food, as though struggling not to say anything. What was going on with them?
"So, when the crab…passed away, did he at least give it a decent burial?" Melody wondered, realizing that her parents weren't going to do anything about this. But maybe there was a redeeming quality to the story, maybe it wasn't all terrible?
Marcie snorted now, her lips twisting. "He like, peeled the dead thing out of it, and kept throwing it at girls to see if they'd scream. I gave him four cookies for the superhero shell, but he ended up keeping it. I'm still really mad about that."
"You know what?" Eric suddenly chimed in, cutting off Melody before she had the chance to ask anymore questions, all the while noting that his wife was looking more and more nauseated. "I think we're all pretty much done with dinner, right? Let's go to the beach, get some fresh air, go for a swim."
"Swim?" Marcie asked, eyes shifting suddenly, nervousness in her voice. "Isn't the water…cold?"
Melody stood up, ready to be near the sea once again, and eyeing Marcie with a new level of wonder. "It's not even winter yet, why would the water be cold?"
The other teenager stood as well, struggling to keep up as Melody turned on her heel and headed for the beach. "I don't know, it just looks…cold.."
As the redheaded girl's too-loud feet followed the graceful footsteps of the other teen out of the dining room, a curious inquest of, "How can something look cold?" could be heard echoing off the walls.
Ariel groaned, planting her arms on the table and letting her head fall into them, something she'd wanted to do for most of dinner. She felt her husband reach over, smoothing back her long locks.
"You okay?" He asked, worry evident in the way he pronounced those two words. "I know that didn't exactly go…as planned."
Ariel looked up, a bewildered expression on her face. "'As planned'? It was a shipwreck! Between Melody, and—and—she wouldn't eat anything, although how could she, with her knees on the table! I think she was actually raised in a barn! Then the swearing, and that poor, poor creature, it's like she didn't even care!"
"Okay, so it was a disaster," Eric conceded, sighing for what felt like the umpteenth time that day. "But at least she's not as afraid around us. That's a small victory."
Ariel snorted, sounding just like both her daughters. "Oh, yes, how great, she's not afraid of us, but instead we have to be afraid of saying the wrong thing, because she could blow up at any second! Really, just brilliant."
She collapsed back into her folded arms, frustration taking hold as she struggled to keep the tears at bay. Wasn't it supposed to be easy? Wasn't she supposed to come back into their lives, and somehow all the pieces would fit, and they'd be a wonderful family again?
She felt something cold nudging against her arm. She ignored it, but the nudging became more persistent. Finally, she sighed, raising her head with a half-annoyed, half desperate look.
It was a half-full glass.
She flickered her eyes to her husband, silently asking the question she knew her voice was too wobbly to say.
"Wine," he said by way of explanation, nodding towards her own glass. "I think you need something to take the edge off."
She didn't take it quite yet, first deciding to look at her own glass. Which was woefully empty. She rarely, if ever, finished a glass of wine at dinner; she hadn't realized how much she'd actually been holding back until now.
With a sigh, she grasped the glass with two hands, throwing her head back in a very un-queenly fashion, and gulping it down. As she set the glass back down, she heard footsteps, ones she recognized, but ignored them. She put her head back into her arms, deciding she liked it better here anyhow.
Carlotta had come back to clear the table, but her eyes strayed to the younger woman instead. She quirked a brow to Eric, who made a face, shaking his head. The woman pursed her lips, before nodding as she went about her work.
"Well, looks like the girl barely had two bites of her dinner," the housekeeper mentioned lightly, not at all pleased with the nearly complete plate of food. "She's a tiny thing too, I can't imagine this is any good for her."
"She doesn't like fruits or vegetables," Eric said by way of answer, earning him a 'hmph'.
"She's certainly channeling you then, isn't she, your majesty?" Carlotta responded, un-amused at the idea.
Despite himself, Eric felt a chuckle rise in his throat. "I eventually grew out of it."
"Did you really though?" She asked, looking at his own plate of food. "You barely ate half, if that."
Eric shrugged, grinning now, as he teased, "Old habits die hard, 'Lottie."
"Picky eating is not something I would want to be proud of, your highness," she chided lightly. Eric flushed, feeling like a schoolboy who had received a lecture.
Despite herself, Ariel felt a giggle bubble out from her arms.
Carlotta looked over at the woman, sending a sympathetic glance her way. "I take it dinner didn't go well?"
Ariel peeked her head up slightly, feeling her eyes suddenly swim from the sudden onset of alcohol. She looked up at the housekeeper helplessly, asking, "Do you think two glasses is too much to drink?"
Eric's teasing grin returned, becoming a smile now, as he reached over to push her bangs out of her face. "Darling, you could give a pub-crawler a run for their money any day."
Ariel sat up fully now, narrowing her eyes, and pushing his hand away lightly as she said, "You're not helping."
"Uh-huh…?" Eric nodded towards the two glasses of now empty red wine, and his wife followed his line of sight, before making a face.
"Okay, maybe I did have a lot more than usual tonight," she acknowledged, "but at least I have better taste than your average drunkard."
"Not to mention, those seedy taverns are no place for a queen," Carlotta said, pursing her lips in thought, voice full of reproach.
"It was one time, and we hadn't been crowned yet!" Eric protested, keeping the laughter out of his voice by coughing.
Ariel had been curious as to what ale tasted like after seeing sailors consume it, and the tavern was the quickest place in town to acquire some. The only thing he hadn't considered, so early on in their marriage, was that even at a tavern in the middle of the afternoon, Ariel was recognizable anywhere. Still, her reaction, nearly spitting it all up, had been worth the tongue-lashing he'd received for taking "a young lady, his princess, into a sleazy, crime infested, drunkards haven".
"One time the two of you should have known better," Carlotta 'harrumphed'. While it had mostly been Eric's fault, some responsibility lay at the queen's feet too, as it was at her insistence that they go to joking suggestion of the tavern.
Ariel gave her husband a pointed look. "He's the bad influence here, I'd never had a drop of alcohol till I met him."
"That's not fair, Atlantica doesn't have alcohol," Eric answered, grinning and trying to defend himself against the accusation.
"Honestly, the two of you blaming one another like teenagers," the housekeeper scolded once again. "You would think your majesties didn't have a country to run, or daughter to raise, with this squabbling."
Ariel straightened up quickly to respond that once again, it was all Eric's fault, before making a noise of pain, clutching her good hand to her ribs. She winced tightly. "Okay, that was a bad move."
"Do you want me to get you some ice?" Eric asked, suddenly much more concerned as he leaned back over to her, his brows knitting together.
Ariel waved him off with her bandaged hand. "I'm fine, the bruising should wear down in a few days. Just…remind me not to try to hug her any time soon, alright? I think I've got a secure place on the list of things she's not fond of."
"I'm sure that's not true?" Carlotta questioned, intrigued, but with a sense of purpose, to see what in this world had Ariel in such a state earlier, and how to fix it.
Eric to frowned, his good mood evaporating as he sighed. "No, she's right. It's been two days, and so far, all we've got out of her is things she doesn't like. The fact that her handprint matched, definitely us, most likely Melody…"
"And a terrible boy named Ronnie." Ariel inserted, making her opinion on him known. She deflated once more, miserably looking down at the table. "There's probably more too, but for sure she wishes she wasn't here, she wants to go back to where she came from."
"Well, the two of you have a list of things she doesn't like, but in the time you've spent with her, have you asked what she does like?" The older woman asked, raising an eyebrow at the couple.
Both of them exchanged a guilty look. They had spent most of the previous night with her, and time today, but they were at a loss. So much time was spent trying not to step on her toes, for fear she'd explode.
And Ariel said as much.
"But if we ask her about herself, she clams up. Or she takes a comment the wrong way and gets upset," she answered, frustrated.
"She's so quick to be defensive; you saw her earlier, she gets so angry over little things," Eric offered as well, leaning back in his chair with a grimace. "I don't know if she'll ever accept this. Accept us."
"So it's harder than you thought, I've never known either of you to back away from a challenge," Carlotta reminded the couple, but neither seemed roused by her words.
Eric shook his head. "Easier said than done."
"She's not a challenge, she's just…challenging," Ariel clarified, raising her eyes to the housekeeper for help. "I know she's lashing out because she's scared. But we can't help her if she won't let us in."
"Teenagers are difficult, your highness," Carlotta sighed, shaking her head. "Especially after all the poor dear has been through in the last few days? That would rattle anyone."
"I guess we're going to have to figure it out," Eric sighed again, looking at his wife with a sliver or hope. "We can do that, right?"
"We don't exactly have a choice," Ariel answered, grimacing at the thought. "She needs someone. We'll have to make it work, somehow."
"And you will," the housekeeper said confidently. "Now, why don't the two of you head to the beach, and let me finally clean up in peace, hm?"
The couple traded glances again. This time, however, Eric slipped out of his seat, although instead of helping his wife out of hers, he instead leaned over and kissed the housekeeper on the cheek.
"Thanks 'Lottie," he said with a boyish grin, making the housekeeper laugh, swatting him away at the rare show of childish affection.
"Go, on, both of you, go spend some time outside," Carlotta shooed them out, as Eric grabbed his wife's hand, both finally leaving the dining room.
Disclaimer: Ariel, Eric, Melody, Carlotta, Chef Louis and the setting for this story are from The Little Mermaid, which is property of Disney. I own nothing; everything represented from the film(s), tv series, etc. is/are the property of Disney. Other characters are from my own imagination and are not associated with Disney.