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Maybe they're just talking, she thought.

But even at this distance, it was obvious the occupants of that car had not come to the beach to admire the view.

With a jolt, Lena realized that Pem's relationship with Max had made the shift from friendly to physical ... and Pem had not told her.

Thinking back over the past week, Lena felt like smacking her forehead. Pem had become more relaxed in the presence of Max-the-College-Guy, and Lena had figured it was Pem's natural confidence. Now she realized it was because Pem and Max had moved beyond casual rides home, and into parked cars.

"Come on, Coley," she called, and ran down the beach path.

Cole raced after her.

Lena breathed easier once she reached the sand. Wading into the surf, she felt the familiar delicious shock of cold, followed by a feeling of warmth as her skin adjusted to the water temperature. She stood still for a minute while little waves washed over her feet, a constant, hypnotic ebb and flow.

Cole dashed toward a flock of seagulls, scattering them. The birds rose lazily into the air and settled down on the sand again a few yards away.

Lena stared out at the sea for a few minutes. Where are you, mermaid? Then she walked back up the beach and sat down. She dug her toes into the top layer of soft, warm sand and into the chilly layer underneath. She closed her eyes, wondering if she would spend the rest of her life searching the waves for a creature that would never appear again.

"Want to play catch?" called Cole.

Lena opened her eyes. She didn't really want to play catch, but he looked so small and hopeful that she couldn't say no. She grinned up at him, then rolled over quickly, catching him by the knees. He squealed, his legs buckling, and sat down in the sand.

"That's not catch!" He laughed. "That's a tackle."

"I know," said Lena. "Because I'm an awesome football player, and you never knew it."

"You are?" He looked amazed.

She stood up, holding out her hand, and he grabbed it, pulling himself up. "Well, not really. But I'm an excellent tackler. Or wait ... no, I meant TICKLER!" She caught him in her arms and gently took him down to the sand again, tickling him.

He laughed and squirmed. Finally she helped him up, his blond hair full of sand and his cheeks rosy. They tossed the Nerf football back and forth for a while, then Lena said, "Time to head home, bud."

Cole didn't complain, just followed her back up the beach and across the gravel parking lot—which was blissfully free of classic Mustangs. When they reached the sidewalk, Cole took her hand, this time chattering about his teacher, Mr. Neil, and the classroom's hamsters.

As Lena held his hand, she thought, This is what's important. Not elusive sea creatures that are possibly all in my head. A rush of love swept over her, and she squeezed his hand, murmuring, "Really? You might get to bring Nutmeg and Cinnamon home some weekend? That's so cool."

When they got home, their dad's car was in the driveway.

"Dad's home!" cried Cole, and he turned to Lena with wide eyes. "Let's surprise him."

"Okay," said Lena. "We'll sneak in through the garage door instead of the sliding door."

They entered the garage from the side and went to the door leading to the kitchen. Lena turned the knob quietly and eased open the door. She could hear her parents' voices in the family room, but they couldn't see the kitchen door. She tiptoed inside, and Cole followed.

"...not the right time," she heard her dad say.

"Yes, it is. Brian, you can't keep putting it off. It's not fair to her! How do you think Lena's going to feel when she finds out the truth?"

Lena froze when she heard her mom's voice, usually so calm, raised to a cry.

"Allie, I told you I just need a little more time. Don't you think I've had enough going on? Starting a new job, and—"

"You're trying to pretend it's not happening, but it is. We can't go on like this!"

Lena had an overwhelming desire to push Cole back out the door