Page 53 of Bewicched

“Did I just see you throw my daughter in the ocean?”

Damn, this was about to get ugly.

“Yes ma’am, you did. She was having some dark thoughts and needed a reboot,” he replied, grinning down at me.

She bristled. “How in the world would you know what she’s thinking?”

“More like I overheard a conversation and scented what she was feeling.” Still watching me, he pointed to the finished end of the deck. “I added a rope over there to make it easier to get back up.”

“Nice,” I called. “I’m going to say hi to Cecil first, then I’ll be up.” I flipped over and swam between the posts, looking for my octopus buddy. Dang. He didn’t seem to be home. Bummer. When I looped around a pier to head back, I saw movement out of the corner of my eye. It wasn’t Cecil, but there was another octopus down here.Cecil, you dog! Who are you shacking up with down here?

I was almost out from under the deck when a tentacle wrapped around my ankle and tugged. I turned to find Cecil emerging from the sand and silt along the bottom.You little sneak. You got me.

His tentacle slid from my ankle as he settled once more on the ocean floor. An empty-mouthed Wilbur shot past me, making sure I hadn’t forgotten our game.

Bye, guys. I’m going up. Both octopuses raised a tentacle and Wilbur shot past me again. I swam to the last post and found a thick rope with knots at handy intervals for climbing. When I go to the top, Declan was leaning over the rail, his arms extended.

“Give me your hands.”

I did and he lifted me over the rail, depositing me back on the deck.

“Feel better?”

I wasn’t sure if the glint in his eye made me want to punch him or kiss him, but it was definitely one of the two. “You know you can’t just chuck people into the ocean,” I said, feigning indignation.

“Only you,” he said, strolling back to the far end of the deck and resuming his work.

“Well, really, darling, you can’t go inside like that. You’ll trail water wherever you go.” My mom took Declan’s spot. “And we really need to talk.”

“Can you go in and grab a towel from the downstairs bathroom? I’m pretty sure I have one in here.”

“Oh, all right, but try to wring out your hair or something while I’m gone.”

“Shit, shit, shit,” I chanted under my breath while I thought frantically.

Declan put down a plank and strolled back. “What’s the matter? Here. Wait. Let me get that.” He rolled up my hair into a long snake and then started squeezing out the water, being so gentle, I almost teared up.

I whispered, “Mom doesn’t know about my tattoo, and I really don’t want a lecture.”

“It’s your body,” he whispered back. “This goes past your butt,” he added, awed.

“Try telling that to her. And only when it’s wet. It gets shorter as it dries. The curls pull it up.”

“Here,” he said, dropping his flannel shirt over my shoulders. It reached my knees.

“This’ll help, but—”

“Here we go,” Mom said, walking out the studio door. “I couldn’t find a towel in your downstairs bath, so I took one from the upstairs.”

“Perfect; thank you.” I wrapped the towel around my waist and turned my back on both of them.

“I think we have this now.” Mom was trying to get rid of Declan.

“I’m sure you do, ma’am, but I’m invested in the story now. I just need to see how this all plays out.”

I kicked off my sneakers, unlatched the buckles on my overalls, and let them fall in a heap on the deck. I held the towel under his shirt, low on my hips, so it reached my ankles. Hey, this might actually work. “Give me a few minutes, Mom. I need to take a quick shower.”

I ran past the two of them and then heard, “Arwyn Cassandra Corey! Why is there a tattoo on the bottom of your foot?”

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