Between Land and Sea Page 2

  Isabella looked around at the shabby apartment, which was starting to feel like a safe cocoon. A few tears trickled down her cheeks and she sobbed inaudibly for several minutes.

  Lisa738 waited quietly for her to finish crying. “Do not distress yourself. You will find a man. In spite of your altered appearance, you still have a spark of the old Isabella in you. Many humans will find that attractive. Use it to better your situation.” She faded into the screen.

  Isabella picked up a nearby sofa pillow and punched it. She screamed Andrew and Annabella’s names. “I don’t need a man. Move on. I don’t need a man. Move on.” She repeated her new mantras as she savagely beat the pillow.

  Exhausted, she looked at the open envelope and decided to finish reading all its contents. She placed all of the identification and summary information into a pile and read through the financial documents. Ten thousand dollars was listed in a new bank account. She skimmed through the information about her account number, PIN, and other details. She understood how to access the money and would be very careful not to use it up too quickly.

  She spotted the résumé and reread it more carefully. There were a few paying and volunteer jobs on it, but overall it appeared that Barbara Davies was a follower, not a leader. Why had Annabella given her this mousy woman’s identity?

  She looked down at the three references: Kendra Adams, Gillian Sanderson, and Belinda Armstrong. Belinda Armstrong must be married to Paul Armstrong. She also noted that Belinda lived in New York City. The famous Paul Armstrong must reside in New York City. Kendra lived in Sedona and Gillian lived in Chicago. She wondered how they knew Barbara Davies.

  And then it came to her. These women did not know Barbara Davies. They knew of her, Isabella. They must be former mermaids who were now living successful human lives. Isabella became excited as she contemplated the idea of contacting the women. She dialed Kendra Adams’s number. She let the telephone ring for a while, but there was no answer or answering machine. She moved on to Gillian Sanderson.

  Gillian picked up after two rings. “Hello, Gillian Sanderson here.”

  Isabella tried to speak, but no words came out.

  “Hello. Is someone there? I can hear you breathing.” Gillian’s tone became more playful. “If you’re one of those obscene callers, you’ll have to develop a stronger breath. You sound a bit weak.”

  “It’s me. Isabella.”

  “Isabella who?”

  “Isabella from the Mediterranean kingdom.”

  There was a pause at the other end and then a low laugh. “I hope you don’t plan to use that introduction with anyone else. It will freak out the real humans.”

  Isabella relaxed. “I’m still getting used to my new identity. This is only my second day on earth.”

  “And you decided to call me first? I’m flattered.”

  “I called Kendra first.” She quickly added, “But that’s because she was listed as the first reference on my résumé.”

  “And what did Kendra have to say for herself?”

  “There was no answer.”

  “She’s chasing a man. When Kendra doesn’t answer her telephone, she’s on the hunt for a rich, handsome man.”

  “Has Kendra been alone for long?” Isabella asked. “How has she managed? I must talk to her.”

  “Hold on a minute. Why are you so interested in managing without a man?”

  “I was abandoned by Andrew and it appears that I must find a man to survive on this earth,” Isabelle explained. “That may not happen, so I need to find a way to endure before I lose my apartment and run out of money.”

  “Lose your apartment and run out of money? Where are you?”

  “I’m in Carden, Ontario.”

  “Where on earth is that?”

  “It’s a small town, forty miles west of Toronto. I’m here because Annabella decided I had to get away from England. That’s where Andrew left me.”

  “So she buried you in a small town with very few prospects.” Gillian paused. “Is there a large body of water nearby?”

  “I don’t know. Let me check.” Barbara put down the telephone and retrieved the map of Ontario that had fallen on the floor. She located Carden and sighed as she measured the distance to Lake Ontario. “It’s too far to walk.” She gasped as she realized her true predicament. “I’m landlocked. I’ll die if I can’t be near water!”

  “That may have been true in your mermaid days, but not anymore,” Gillian said. “Annabella must be very angry with you.”

  “I disappointed her when I chose Andrew over the kingdom.”

  “Or maybe she disappointed you.” Gillian’s voice softened.

  “I know it looks bleak right now. But things will get better. You must believe that, Isabella. And don’t put so much pressure on yourself.”

  “I have very few prospects for the future. I was given the identity of a mousy, middle-aged woman who lived in her husband’s shadow.”

  “That was very cruel of Annabella. But do not let that stop you from moving forward. Take matters into your own hands and reinvent this mousy woman. You were born a Bella and you will always be a Bella. Now did she leave you with any good features?”

  “I have my beautiful green eyes and alabaster skin. But I’m overweight.”

  “You can lose weight. Humans do it all the time. Do you still have that lovely, auburn hair?”

  “It was chopped off and darkened. I need to do something about that.”

  Gillian jumped in. “That’s your first step. Visit the best hair salon in that town and get a good cut and color. While you’re there, tell the stylist your story.”

  “About being a mermaid?”

  “Never tell any human that story,” Gillian said. “They won’t believe you and will question your mental health. They like to think of mermaids as fantasy creatures from fairy tales. You need to sit down tonight with all the information in that large envelope you received and make up a few stories that will resonate with other women.”

  “Why must I do that?”

  “Right now, you are not ready to attract a high-quality man into your life. You need help, and lots of it. Since you are not a threat to other women, they will sympathize with you. They can help you with your hair, appearance, weight loss, and even your career. But first they must hear your story.”

  “Make up stories about Barbara Davies? Not much excitement there.”

  “Even better. Present her as a woman who has lived in her husband’s shadow for too long. Did he leave her for someone else?”

  “Yes, a much younger woman.”

  “Lots of women will identify with your situation. But be very careful about your details. There can be no slip-ups. You must become Barbara Davies and leave Isabella behind.” Gillian added, “You don’t want anyone asking too many questions or checking out your story. Our earthly identities are not one hundred percent foolproof. If someone digs deep enough, they could find a few discrepancies.”

  “What about you Gillian? What is your story?”

  “Nine years ago, I gave up my tail for a handsome, extremely wealthy man who loved and showered me with attention for two years. Before leaving, he set me up in a condo in downtown Chicago. I used my good looks to get into sales. I sell cars for a living and do very well. I enjoy the company of men, but I live alone. It’s better for me that way.”

  Isabella sighed. “I didn’t realize that looks were that important.”

  “Annabella overprotected you in the underwater kingdom. Now show her and everyone else what you can really do with this new life. Use whatever skills or talents this Barbara Davies possesses. And use your tablet. It will help you adapt faster to your new life.”

  “I’ve already used it a few times. I plan to wean myself off it long before the year is up.”

  “That tablet is your lifeline.”

  “I don’t like dealing with that Numbers mermaid and I don’t want her to tell Annabella all the details of my new life.”

  “Stop think
ing and worrying about Annabella. She is no longer part of your life. Right now, all you have is that Numbers mermaid. Use her. During my first month, I must have contacted my Numbers mermaid five or six times a day. I had to learn how to organize dinner parties, dress for the opera, decorate my home, and a host of other things. I couldn’t have done it on my own. And neither can you. Isabella, please do not give up that lifeline.” She finished, “Now, I must go and meet with my sales manager before he leaves. I’ll keep in touch.”

  “Thanks, Gillian.” Isabella put down the telephone and returned to the large brown envelope on the coffee table. As she reread the pages, she recalled Lisa738’s comment about her special spark. She closed her eyes and imagined a slimmer, happier Barbara Davies, briefcase in hand, walking through the streets of downtown Carden.

  Chapter 3

  Isabella woke up the next morning, well rested and ready to take on the human world. She had followed Gillian’s advice and spent most of the previous evening making up stories that would appeal to other women. It wasn’t hard. Storytelling was one of her mermaid gifts. In the beginning, only the very young mermaids had gathered each evening to listen to Isabella. But over time, the older mermaids and even some of the mermen congregated to hear her spin stories about their underwater kingdom. Annabella had always encouraged her to develop this gift.

  Isabella’s features darkened at the thought of Annabella. She quickly dismissed the recollection as a more interesting insight occurred to her: she still had her natural storytelling ability. And she would have to find a way to use this in the human world. She smiled as she looked about her bedroom. Everything was in place. Her clothes were neatly organized in the closet and her purse was ready for the day ahead. Organizational ability. Another gift she carried over from her previous life.

  She quickly showered, dressed, and ate breakfast. Barbara Davies needed very little makeup and thankfully her alabaster skin did not require too many extra touches. Isabella used the neutral foundation sparingly and applied a hint of eye shadow and mascara to her eyes. She surveyed herself critically in the mirror and nodded in satisfaction. Her hair still lacked any shape or definition. Isabella winced as she recalled how brutally Annabella had chopped off her lovely mane of red-gold locks.

  Isabella dressed very simply for the day—black, casual pants with a purple mock turtleneck sweater and a print scarf. She slipped on a lightweight trench coat and ventured outside. She looked down at her sensible black shoes and grinned. No tottering high heels to contend with yet. She shuddered and hoped she never had to face that particular challenge.

  Unprepared for the bright sunlight, she quickly donned a pair of large sunglasses from her purse and let her eyes adjust. She took in the scenery of the small town she would be calling home for the next twelve months. It was early October and the leaves of the large maple and elm trees displayed varying shades of red and gold. The houses were modest bungalows or split-levels. Her four-story apartment building was the only large building on the street.

  She decided to spend some time exploring. Her apartment building was only a few minutes away from the downtown area and a short bus ride to the mall. Thankfully, she would not need a car. As she walked through the downtown, she noted street names: Elm, Cedar, Maple, and Main. Not too original but they suited the town’s ambience. Isabella peered into the windows of the small cafés and diners that dotted the streets. Not too many patrons at this early hour—a few older couples and single men.

  She passed a number of hair stylist and barbershops, but she had already decided upon a salon. After spending some time scouring the ads in the yellow pages, she had selected The Cutting Edge, a high-end establishment on the periphery of the downtown area. Isabella smiled in anticipation as she approached it. It was a step above the smaller, crowded shops in the downtown core. The display window had been decorated with a few mannequins wearing hairpieces, scarves, jewellery, and quality hair products. She stood there admiring the display.

  “Do you want an appointment? You’re a bit early, but you could come in and have a coffee or tea.”

  Isabella looked up into the kind eyes of a tall, beautiful woman. Her blond hair was styled in a pageboy and her dark eyes were artfully made up. She was dressed in head-to-toe black and wore high-heeled boots. Isabella returned a friendly smile and followed the Amazon into the shop.

  “My name is Sandra Grant. Welcome to The Cutting Edge.” She pointed to a few of the armchairs. “Make yourself comfortable. Would you like coffee or tea?”

  “I’ll have a cup of coffee—black.”

  Sandra walked over to the coffeemaker in the corner and poured a cup for Isabella. “I haven’t seen you before. Did you just move here?”

  “I’m Barbara Davies from Tempe, Arizona.”

  Sandra’s eyes widened. “All the way from Arizona to Carden. Did your husband get transferred to Toronto?”

  Isabella took a deep breath and began weaving her first story. “I came here alone. My husband left me for a bimbette, and I decided to leave and find a fresh start in Canada.”

  Sandra sank down into an armchair next to her. “You have relatives nearby?”

  “I’m an only child and my parents were killed in an automobile accident a year after I married Carl.” Isabella paused for effect.

  “No children?”

  “We stopped trying a long time ago.” Isabella smiled tightly.

  Sandra frowned. “But why Carden? Why not settle in Toronto or Hamilton or one of the larger centers?”

  “I took out the map of Ontario, spun it around a few times, and dropped a penny. It landed on Carden, and here I am.”

  “Well, you certainly took a unique approach to starting over.” Her eyes surveyed Isabella’s hair. “And to cutting hair. I take it you did this yourself.”

  Isabella winced. “I stopped going to the salon about a year ago, after Carl left. I stopped getting manicures, meeting friends for lunch, exercising, and doing anything really. One day, I took out the scissors and tried to fix it.” She looked imploringly at Sandra. “Can you do anything?”

  Sandra squeezed Isabella’s hand. “Darling, I can work miracles with hair.” She fingered a few strands and looked at Isabella thoughtfully. “I have some ideas about the color and the cut. I don’t know how much you want to spend or—”

  “Do whatever needs to be done. I’ll be looking for a job, and I need a more polished look before I go anywhere.”

  Sandra’s eyebrows rose. “What kind of job would you like?”

  Isabella was taken aback. While she had spent the previous evening immersing herself into Barbara Davis’ life, she had not considered her own needs and wants. “I spent most of my married life taking care of my husband’s needs. I’m open to any suggestions.”

  Sandra smiled but said nothing. She then busied herself with preparing the color. She stopped asking questions and focused exclusively on Isabella’s hair.

  Isabella welcomed the respite. She picked up People magazine and read about Angelina Jolie’s latest exploits. She lost herself in the article, looking up only briefly to check her reflection in the mirror. After applying the color, Sandra moved on to another client. The salon filled up quickly and by the time the shampoo girl took her to the sink, almost every chair was taken.

  As soon as Isabella came back to Sandra’s chair, the stylist returned and critically examined her new color. She smiled in approval. The color was lighter—almost a butterscotch shade which complemented her green eyes. Sandra took out the scissors and proceeded to shape and style the mass of hair before her. In no time at all, a sleek cut emerged. Isabella’s hands trembled as she touched the soft, beautifully styled hair that framed her face.

  Two other women gathered around Sandra. The older one spoke, “Great color, and I love the style, Sandra. Maybe you can do something like this for me.” The woman smiled at Isabella. “I haven’t seen you here before. Are you visiting?”

  Sandra interrupted, “Barbara just moved here from Ariz
ona. She’s looking for a job. Do you know of any openings, Janice?”

  Janice appraised Isabella. “Hmm, I might have something for you. What did you do in Arizona?”

  “I earned a philosophy degree and then spent twenty-nine of the last thirty years being a perfect wife to my ex-husband. I organized his entire personal and professional life for him. As for my other skills, well, I learn quickly.”

  Janice took out a business card and handed it to Isabella. “I’m busy this morning, but drop by around one this afternoon. I’m just down the street. We can talk more then.” She turned to face Sandra. “I made the appointment for six-thirty this evening. I’ll see you later.” Janice left the salon.

  Isabella glanced down at the business card and noted the woman’s full name, Janice Evans, and her business ReCareering. She looked questioningly at Sandra. “What type of business is this?”

  “It’s mainly a career counseling office. But she also places people in temporary jobs. She probably has a placement in mind for you. So, make a good impression and you might have something before the end of the day.” Sandra looked pointedly at Barbara’s clothes. “You’ll have to change into something else. Do you have a suit?”

  Isabella made a face. “Two of them—black and gray. Nothing too exciting.”

  “Wear the black one and jazz it up with a nice blouse or scarf.” Sandra heard the ping of a timer and looked toward the back of the salon. “I have to go now. Good luck, Barbara.”

  Chapter 4

  Isabella left the salon on a high. She slipped on her shades and walked briskly toward the apartment building. In no time at all, she was back in her cozy cocoon. She considered the tablet sitting on the coffee table. As she pressed the contact button, Lisa738’s smiling face appeared. “Good morning, Isabella. What can I do for you today?”

  “Start by calling me Barbara. Isabella is gone forever.”

  The mermaid appeared taken aback, but quickly smiled and nodded. “Fine, Barbara. Your hair looks beautiful. Almost as—”