Like Moonlight on Water: Chapter 9
A Fine Line
If you’re just joining us…welcome! I’m releasing Like Moonlight on Water in installments—info and chapter list here. My goal is to finish this novel this summer, so I’ll be releasing chapters at least twice a week from here ‘til the end. ✨
Click here for the previous chapter where Sal just confessed that the nanotechnology in his cells could kill Lila.
A Fine Line
To his credit, Adam’s expression betrayed nothing. Sal heard his thudding heartbeat and smelled his epinephrine-triggered sweat, but the man’s gaze was steady. Calculating. His only overt tell was in his tightened embrace of the slumbering infant.
“I’m listening,” he said.
“Modulators were developed by us, for us,” Sal began. “But psychic phenomena were unknown to us. If such abilities ever manifested in our species, or on our world, the documentation was lost.”
Adam’s eyes narrowed. “Or withheld.”
Sal shook his head. “By the time the Servants found this planet, our craft had begun to decay. Countless millennia had aged its systems. Data was lost. But even the eldest Givers had no memories of such abilities. And Servants cannot lie.”
“Because you bred the perfect slave.”
“Because Servants are honorable—and honored. They are not sl—”
“So modulators are toxic. How?”
Traveler whimpered at his father’s agitation, and Sal sought to soothe them both.
“You misunderstand. Modulators are an asset. A boon of health and longevity for humans selected to receive them. But…they suppress preternatural abilities, and we do not fully understand why.
“The more common aptitudes appear to be linked to methylation and epigenetic expression. For example, psychometry is—”
“Tell me how,” the man growled. “How would they kill her?”
“Depression,” Sal answered. “Or madness. Unconsciously, she…she would…” He faltered as the baby stirred again, such an innocent contrast to Adam’s hardened stillness. But the words could not be held back now. “Lila would continue to seek experiences—information—that she could no longer access, triggering feelings of loss and inadequacy.
“A vicious cycle of hormone depletion and production would exacerbate the chaos in her mind. Within days, achieving a REM sleep state would be impossible. The modulators would constantly work to resolve her biochemical imbalances, but she would be vulnerable to…she might…”
Adam rocked back a step. “She wouldn’t.”
Sal looked away, memories of an all-too-young face filling his mind. “Some have.” Movement in a window caught his eye. “Cara sees us.”
“Have you told her?”
“I…have not been specific.”
Adam’s jaw flexed. “You were injured when we found you. She—”
“Modulators deactivate once separated from my body—from living cells. Dead skin cells, hair…she is safe around me.” He glanced at the now-empty window and sighed. “I will tell her.”
“Don’t.” Adam frowned down at his son, and was rewarded with a contented yawn. “Not yet. It’ll scare her, and she needs…someone.”
A woof drew their attention to the fence. The dog’s paws scrabbled at the top, her anxious brown eyes begging to be freed so she could protect the child.
Sal trailed behind as Adam opened the gate and led the way into the house. Adam deserved the truth. All of the truths.
“Your hand!” Cara rushed to Adam, but he refused to let her inspect the bandage.
“The alien wants to talk to you.”
She composed herself quickly, but the rebuff clearly stung.
“What happened?” she asked. “Is she—are they okay?”
Sal wondered who had been foremost in her mind. “Lila and Eileen are both well. Did you experience anything unusual this past hour?”
“What do you…? Oh! The Seneca Guns!” Her demeanor segued into cheerful curiosity. “Did y’all feel it, too?”
“You felt it?” Sal probed.
“Oh, yeah. I was getting dressed…heard the boom and the whole house shook. Cool, huh?”
“Did you see evidence of physical movement? Did the crystals on the light fixture sway? Or the—”
“Hold it right right there!” Adam repositioned Traveler to free his dominant hand. “When were you in my house?”
“Not before today. You have my word.”
“Then how—”
“Adam, they know these things…it’s alright, really.” Cara flinched at his angry glare, and he was immediately contrite.
“Sorry. You’re probably right…but I don’t have to like it.”
The last was directed at Sal.
“Might Cara and I have a few minutes?” Sal smiled and lightened his tone, “I am sure your wife will share our conversation later.”
“No.”
Cara touched his upper arm. “I’m fine, really. They were good to me, when…” Her cheeks pinked, and her hand slid past Traveler to flutter at her side.
“No,” Adam repeated—but Betty barked a countermand and began trying to herd him to the door.
Sal nodded. “Your dog insists that you and Traveler join her outside.” The animal snapped in his direction, and he chuckled. “She also wishes to communicate that she would kill me if she could.”
A muscle in Adam’s neck twitched. “Knew she was a good dog.”
The infant chose that moment to wake and drool a gassy smile at Sal.
“Five minutes,” Adam gruffed. “Come, Betty.”
Cara watched her small family leave before turning to him. “Are you hungry?”
Very. But there was no need to antagonize Adam further.
“No, thank you.” He followed her to the kitchen and watched as she swirled a bowl of blueberries under running water. “This Seneca Guns phenomenon…you have experienced it before?”
She strained the water and set the bowl on a dishtowel. “Sure. I grew up here.”
“And has your experience ever varied?”
“What do you mean?”
“Have you ever noticed…differences…before or after? Perhaps in the phenomenon itself, or in your surroundings?” In your life? he wondered.
Cara settled on a barstool and pulled the bowl to her. “Not really. It’s always quick…” She popped three berries in her mouth and chewed slowly before swallowing. “The boom is always the same, but I didn’t notice the chandelier, sorry.
“Sometimes things rattle…but sometimes it’s more like the ground shifts. That’s what it was like today.” She rolled a blueberry back and forth between her fingers. “Like the world slipped sideways.”
With effort, he kept his voice even. “Did the dog notice anything?”
“I’d put her out.” The berry dropped into the bowl. “She’d been whining since Adam left.”
“Thank you.” He moved toward the door.
“Wait. You really came just to ask me about that?”
He turned back to her. “Why else would I have come?”
She blushed and seemed to shrink in on herself.
“I do not intend to be rude,” he said. “Adam does not want me near you—or Traveler—and I want to respect his wishes. As much as I can.”
“You like him.” Cara offered a wan smile.
“I do. And I would see him happy—if I could.”
Her head tipped to one side. “He reminds you of someone. A brother?”
A rush of heat flooded his body. “Adam is a good man in a world with too few.”
“There’s something else, though,” she mused. “A connect—”
“He deserves to know the truth.”
She stiffened. “I know.”
“Why have you not told him?”
“I-I will. I just…” Her head dipped, hiding her face behind a sweep of dark hair. “How could I have agreed to this?” she whispered.
“You believe we misled you?” That would be problematic to resolve without violating Lila’s trust.
“No…” A single tear splashed on a blueberry, glistening before melting into the depths of the bowl.
“You…regret your role as Giver?”
“I’m not his mother.”
Without her husband to judge, the young woman had set aside her mask of wide-eyed delicacy, revealing a broken, doll-like creature beneath. But Sal knew even that was a costume.
“Cara, you chose to be impregnated with this child. You carried him and provided sustenance from your own body. You allowed him to be born—at great risk to yourself. You are the child’s mother.”
Her head snapped up. “I’m not! I’m just a surrogate! A stand-in!”
“A stand-in.” He sighed and walked to the window. Adam was at the end of the dock, the child still cradled in his arms. Betty stood watch from the yard, her furry head swiveling between Adam and the house, snarling when she noticed Sal in the window.
A thin lace of clouds outlined the blue horizon. The girl could be granted a choice. Could be freed from her regret and embarrassment—because that was the real problem, was it not? That she knew the selfish, immature impulses that had led to her altruistic sacrifice? The simple solution would be to replace those memories entirely. To allow her the gift of thinking better of herself. Had she not earned that much, at least?
He turned back to face her, and found her waiting. Hopeful.
“You are the child’s mother. Start acting like it.”
My shower was a selfish escape. No drama other than passive alien technology documenting the temperatures and sounds—though our house did need a new roof, and a metal one might be in order. Kinda like a giant tinfoil hat.
Slouching under the water, I let the hot streams beat down my back. My skin had gone way past pink some minutes ago and the steamy bathroom was short on breathable air, but just outside the door was one very angry teenager.
However, in spite of being a liar and horrible mother, I was—until recently—a good employee. And I’d be late for work if I didn’t hurry up. Hopefully, Sal was back and could pull Eileen out of her funk.
But the house was empty. No Sal. No Eileen.
Something’s wrong! Find her, Lila!
Clad only in my robe, I shoved my feet in my running shoes.
“Eileen!” I yelled again, dragging out the syllables. “Eiii-leeeen!”
Our closest neighbor was an elderly man who kept to himself. Hard of hearing, too. I ran partway down the road, clutching my robe to my nakedness as best I could before spinning and running to the river.
“Eileen!”
She was hunched on a log near the tidal mark, her thin shoulders heaving as she wept on our cat.
“What’s wrong?!” I dropped to my knees in the muck and ran my hands over her head and back. “Are you hurt? What happened?”
Instead of answering, she snaked her arms around me and blubbered into my hair. Relieved of duty, a very soggy Pebbles wriggled free and huddled tight against her side.
“Honey, what is it? Did something happen?” Paranoid, I checked the sky.
Innocuous and empty, the vivid blue held no danger—that I could see. Shuddering, I lifted her chin, judging the thick, snotty tears and swollen eyes that marred her beautiful face. I saw only sadness.
“Shh, baby…” I swabbed at her with my sleeve and she sobbed harder. “It’ll be okay, honey. Tell me what’s wrong.”
“All th-those p-people!” She collapsed against my chest. “And animals!” Pebbles was dragged back between us with a miserable mew.
Before my shower, my daughter had been in a rage again. “You can’t keep me here forever!” she’d shouted. “On Monday, I’m going to school! Sal can zap everybody’s memories if he has to—but I am going!”
And now she was grieving for a lost world.
“Oh, honey…” I knelt there in the stickiness, rubbing her back until her sobs quieted and Pebbles squirmed away. “Sweetheart, let’s get you back to the house. I’ve got work, and—”
“You don’t care!” she wailed, jerking free and toppling me onto my butt.
Fantastic. I clambered to my feet, wiping my hands as best I could on my robe. One glance at my backside and a second at my mud-streaked legs tested my own temper.
“Eileen, this world is the one where I have to work so you can go to college.” I pulled her to her feet. “And guess what? Today is Bring Your Kid to Work Day.”
Like a good mother would, I channeled my anger toward someone other than the child. In this case, an unreliable alien babysitter. Where the hell was he? I wasn’t about to leave her alone—especially as fragile as she was right now.
Instead, I lured her into compliance with a combination of soft words and fake enthusiasm. And by setting a poor example of obeying traffic laws, and then splurging on expensive metered parking in front of the shop, I managed to unlock the door right as Tessa showed up.
“Here, Leenie.” I handed my daughter a few bills from my wallet. “Go find us all some breakfast—and a coffee for me.”
Tessa cheerily chimed in, “Soy latte with two raw sugars!” My ex-barista grinned at me and flipped the open sign around.
“I can go by myself?”
Understandably, my daughter was surprised. And to be honest, I was surprised too—but the sky was bright with sunshine and this morning had been so, so dark.
“Riverhouse Coffee’s only two blocks away. I think you can handle it.” This world—our world—had to be safe enough. It just had to be.
“You’re a good mother,” Tessa commented after she left.
“Eileen would beg to differ.” Ten minutes there, three minutes each way…fifteen tops.
“She knows,” Tessa sighed. “Children always know.”
Shit. I’d forgotten to make sure Eileen had her phone. I pulled mine out, just in case. Thought about calling Adam to see if Sal was still with him. Decided checking up on a full-grown alien was ridiculous.
Belatedly, I sensed Tessa’s sadness lingering in the air. She was staring, unseeing, at the street outside.
“You look deep in thought.” I spoke gently, “Were you close to your mother at that age?”
“Not really.” She turned to the nearest display. “My mother loves me, but she hasn’t always been…present.” By the time she’d straightened a dress on its hanger, she was back to her usual cheery self. “But I had Uncle B.!”
“Is he your mother’s brother?”
“Oh, he’s not really my uncle. More like a father. I wasn’t just raised in the church,” she grinned. “I was raised by the church. It’s a small congregation, so we’re all close.”
A lump rose in my throat, but I returned her smile. Family was more than blood.
A minute later, I texted Cara. She could tell me if Sal had left, but mostly…mostly, I needed to make more of an effort.
But he doesn’t belong with her, Lila!
Yes, he does. I gritted my teeth and started selecting items for door prizes. Nine minutes had passed. My palms were burning. Eileen’s phone was in her pocket—wasn’t it?
My daughter returned four minutes later, with three containers of gloppy gray pudding topped with strawberries. And my coffee, thank God.
Tessa accepted her food reluctantly. “Chia pudding…great. Yum.” Clearly, she’d hoped for something more along the lines of a sausage and gravy biscuit.
“We’re vegan now,” Eileen informed her.
My eyebrows lifted as I swigged the coffee.
“Bees matter,” she mumbled.
“Mmm,” I swallowed.
She was right, proving yet again that her heart was kinder than mine. But with every spoonful of pudding, she descended into a deeper gloom. And since breakfast was far tastier than I’d expected, the chia seeds weren’t to blame.
Time for some retail therapy. Not my personal favorite, but a useful tool, nonetheless.
“There’s a new art supply store on the street behind us.” More money from my wallet. “Life can’t be all science.”
Your great-grandmother was an artist, I almost added.
“Got your phone?” I asked. She pulled it partway from her hoodie pocket. “Have fun! But text me if you’ll be a while. I bet you’d be good at charcoal drawings—or pastels!” I rattled on as I shooed her out, “If you’ll be longer than twenty minutes call me!”
She flapped a good-bye wave over her shoulder.
“Parking meter!” I called out before the door shut. The bamboo chimes thunked into stillness while I watched her dig coins from her pocket. She fed the meter, gave me a theatrical bow, then blew me a kiss before walking out of sight.
God, I loved my kid.
“Lila?” Tessa spoke up. “Is it still okay if I pick out clothes for the party?”
The store phone rang, and I flashed a thumbs up as I answered. “Thank you for calling The Urban Nymph! How may I—”
“And how are my favorite young ladies on this beautiful spring day?” Maureen bubbled.
I snorted. “Well, Tessa is great…but this lady hasn’t been young since before you could drive.”
“Age is just a number,” she responded sagely. “Besides, I heard from a certain little birdie that you’ve shacked up with young Mr. Hotness, himself!”
“What? No!” I frowned at Tessa’s back. “We’re…friends.”
Maureen snickered. “With benefits, I hope.”
“Alright, that’s enough. Put your boss hat on. Any luck with interviews?”
“Ugh. Complete fails. But…” her voice lilted into higher pitch, “…I just got a call from Cara! She’s not loving the stay-at-home mom routine—and she majored in business! She’s going to run the new store!”
“That’s great…perfect!” Hopefully day-job normalcy would be easier for her, than me. But why hadn’t she responded to my text?
Maureen chattered on about the grand opening, and—thanks to Sal—I was able to assure her that plans for the customer appreciation party were well-in-hand.
“Sal cooks?!” she exclaimed. “Lila, if you let this one get away, there is no hope for you.”
“Don’t start.”
“I’m just saying! You missed your chance with—”
“Customer…gotta go!” I hung up. Last year, Maureen had done her best to set me up with her contractor. Who was now married with a loving wife and new baby.
And is the father of your child.
Not helping. Shut up. My inner dialogue had become entirely too chatty.
“Lila? How about this?” Tessa held up a sleeveless, low-cut confection in lilac silk and lace.
Another thumbs up. Too revealing for my taste, but the color suited her complexion and hair.
“I’m going next door for a sec,” I told her. “Credit card’s in my wallet.”
My grandmother had not been an artist. There were no blown eggs. No creepy collection dotting the windowsills and furniture in what was now my bedroom. That was another memory from a different Lila’s childhood, and Miss Hester would confirm that my Mimi didn’t paint—or do crafts.
I paused outside the flower shop, and as if on cue, my phone vibrated with a new text. Eileen had sent a selfie in front of a display of easels. I sent a heart emoji back, and was satisfied for a few more minutes.
Unfortunately, Miss Hester was busy planning a summer wedding with a mother and daughter duo. A very trying mother and daughter duo. I made a face over the back of their heads and she fluttered me away with the end of her snow-white braid.
As I turned, she yanked it hard. “Yes, dear, it’s very popular. But if the groom is allergic to eucalyptus, it’s best not to use it in his boutonnière.”
I held in a giggle, but back on the street, my humor dissolved. Still no text from Cara, and I felt too awkward to call now. Surely Sal wasn’t still over there…
Dual-time. He’d said as much, hadn’t he?
The thought of him having to go through that again so soon, and alone, made me want to scream at the sky. Not that the Servants would care. Or the others—his so-called team. How could his mother do that to him? How could any of them do it?
A couple of ladies crossed the street and went in the shop, but I didn’t move. The day was bright, and the sun high, but too much was wrong. I missed my angels. More than that, I needed them. My entire life they’d been my companions, offering silent clues and guidance. Always there, usually making themselves known without my even having to look.
Except for around my daughter. But at least the black things were never around her, either.
So far, my subconscious whispered.
A sudden chill raced along my spine and I shivered.
Just maternal paranoia. Whatever they were, they weren’t interested in her. I scanned the street, shifting my focus to blur the world and see the empty space around me. A few cars passed, and a group of tourists gestured and chattered at the corner, but no one paid me any attention.
Angels? Where are you?
Had they given up on me? Or…did they think I’d given up on them? They’d been so present between Adam and I, vivacious and joyful since the day we met—now, they were like children who’d taken sides in a divorce.
I need you. I walked a bit further to the river. Please?
But only the water shimmered, bright white sunlight glinting across its murky depths.
Thank you for reading and keeping me motivated!
I’d hoped to share this chapter yesterday, but it didn’t feel quite ready. Chapter 10 is still on track for this weekend, though. I’m determined to meet my summer target!
And speaking of…
If you missed Monday’s email, have a look. Since I’m posting more frequently now, I shared instructions on opting for a “digest” newsletter if you prefer fewer emails. 💌
— Jennifer