Marisol sank into the water and fluttered her fins in silent relief. Finally – Tuesday again, and she could breathe underwater properly. These days, it was a once a week indulgence, and normally confined to the bathtub, gills safely hidden by bubbles and the extra-deep clawfoot tub.
But tonight…tonight, her husband was helping a friend with a mysterious truck problem, and that meant she could run down to the creek behind their house, slip into the worn rocks smoothed into a nook the locals called the Devil’s Bathtub, and shed her humanity for a few hours.
It got wearing, being human.
She closed her eyes, then smiled. “Hi, Mama. It’s been a while.”
A sniff, then a splash. “You could come visit more often.”
Mari winced and reached out her arm for a watery hug. “In retrospect, saying I couldn’t swim was a terrible idea. But it was a beach date, Mama. I didn’t know how else to keep him from seeing the gills.”
“That’s not the only thing you’re going to have to worry about.”
She cracked open an eye and winced, then held her hand over her stomach. “I know.”
A twig cracked. “So this is where you go.” Jax came into view, a bottle of water in each hand. “Truck’s toast. Came back and saw you at the edge of the meadow. Thought I’d wander down after you. Nice to see you, Annie. I didn’t realize you could become transparent.”
The older woman splashed water at him, unashamed of her nakedness — or her blunt curiosity. “You’ve known for a while, haven’t you?”
“Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night,” he said. He handed Mari the waters and took off his boots. Sitting down, he tugged off wool socks and rolled up his pant legs to expose pale, bony feet. “Water’s cold. Anyway, sometimes I like to watch you sleep.”
“Sounds creepy.” Annie sounded delighted, leaning onto a nearby rock and propping her chin up with a fist.
Marisol tried to say something. A squeak emerged.
“It’s soothing. I don’t want to wake you, but sometimes I stroke your hair. Wake you up if you’re having a nightmare.” He swung his feet back and forth. “I’m a lucky man, to have you as a wife.”
“I’m lucky, too,” she managed. “Um. I’m sorry.”
He didn’t answer immediately. “Wish you’d told me sooner, but I get it. Crazy world and all. Now’s the time, though, before I see gills on my son.”
Managing a wan smile, she snorted. “Or daughter.”
“Nah.” He snagged a water back and took a drink. “Jackson Junior. Bet he’ll be an Olympian. Swim team, obviously.”
A cough. “We’re going to have to work on my grandson’s name.”
“Mom.“
Jax laughed. “Now, tell me exactly what species I married into, please?”
***
This week’s prompt was from Parrish Baker: “It was finally Tuesday, so she could breathe underwater again.”
Mine went to Becky Jones: After that, it was a hop, skip, and a jump – literally – to Mars.
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