There is a mermaid that lives inside me. She rests under my left breast. I’ve been to the sea twice. The first time was California and I watched otters crack clam shells. The second time was Texas. There was a deep saline smell and the wind ripped through my hair. I live in the desert. Santa Fe, New Mexico.
I’m a legal secretary for Jon Pigeon, Esq. I’ve worked for him for eighteen years. He lives in a house in the hills next to a German landscape painter. I’ve been up there a few times so he can sign documents I had prepared. His wife left him several years ago and his son is married and his daughter is taking classes at the Sorbonne. I love that. I always wanted to learn French or drive in a convertible car with the breeze lifting my hair as I travel the streets of Paris.
Jon announced he was retiring. It was not a surprise. Each month he took on less and less cases. I’ve been searching job ads. There didn’t seem to be any law office jobs available. When Jon walked in I clicked off the job website.
“I got you something.” He was carrying a vase with flowers beautifully arranged. He placed it on my empty desk.
“For me?” I was confused.
“Just a little thank you.” He smiled at me and then went to his office and closed the door.
The next day he brought a gift set with chocolates and strawberries. I thanked him. I was confused.
Later that week, he asked me to dinner. We went to an Italian restaurant and drank red wine. He told me he was selling his house and had already bought a home on the east coast of Mexico.
“A short walk to the beach,” he said. It was then I wondered about all his attention. Was he romantically interested in me? I let myself dream. I imagined living in Mexico by the seashore. Jon invited me to lunch the week of his retirement.
“I suppose you’re wondering about all this attention,” he said. “Truthfully, I need someone to handle my US affairs, referring old clients to lawyers, handling the sale of my house. I can’t pay you your current wage, but I will pay you for your services. How about it?”
My heart fell and the mermaid in me screamed. I could hear her. “Take me to the sea.”
Jon drank his margarita. “Oh, and I’m getting married again. I must be out of my mind. I was hoping you could help with the wedding plans.”
I was a 45-year-old unmarried woman who hasn’t dated someone for six years. Jon’s attention confused me. I thanked him kindly, turned down the offer, and then left the restaurant. My mermaid was dying inside. I walked past a travel agency with a Help Wanted sign. There was a poster of Tahiti in the window. I would apply for the job. I would start a new chapter in my life and hopefully, I would reach the sea that echoed in my soul.
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