Just for Fins
Page 4
The invitations are done and the messenger gulls are on their ways. Went to get ice cream. Back soon.
xoxo
Rachel
What? They finished everything? And they sent off the invitations via messenger gulls to the various kingdoms?
Clearly I was in the bath longer than I thought.
My heart does a little double thump. I trust my friends and family to do a good job, but . . . but I didn’t even get to see a finished invitation. What if Doe worded something wrong? Or had the wrong time or location or misspelled Queen Dumontia’s name? Sure, she corrected me on a couple of mistakes earlier, but she’s not perfect.
I yank the note off the fridge, and a sheet of pale-blue kelpaper that had been held up behind it falls to the floor.
It’s an invitation. Stuck in the middle is a bright pink sticky note.
Not that you need to, but you probably want to check my work.
Doe. I’m part annoyed by her arrogance and part relieved to see a finished invitation. I skim my eyes over the very official-sounding words.
Your attendance is requested at a council of mer kings and queens to be held in the royal kingdom of Thalassinia this Sunday at five o’clock Western Mer Time. Please send your reply to Mangrove at the royal palace with your intentions by Saturday evening.
Crown Princess Waterlily
of Thalassinia
My eyes tear up as I get to the end. Everything is perfect, exactly how it should be and exactly how I was not making it on my own. With so much riding on this meeting, I’m beyond relieved to know the invitations are checked off the list.
Behind me, the kitchen door swings open.
“It sounds like parts are going to rattle off,” Dosinia says.
“Runs just fine, dear,” Aunt Rachel says. “Gets me where I need to go, and that’s all I ask.”
Brody tugs at his ear. “I’d ask to keep my hearing.”
“I could take a look under the hood,” Quince offers. “Could be just a matter of a loose gasket.”
“No, really,” Aunt Rachel says, “it’s—”
She doesn’t have the chance to finish before I rush the group and grab them all into a big hug.
“Ooof,” Aunt Rachel grunts.
Quince catches everyone from the other side. “Whoa, princess.”
“You guys,” I say, trying to keep the emotion out of my voice, “are amazing.”
I plant loud kisses on Doe, Shannen, and Aunt Rachel’s cheeks. I would feel weird kissing Brody, even on the cheek, and I can’t quite reach Quince, but I give him a look that says he’ll be getting an even better kiss later. Doe twists out of the hug, and I reluctantly release everyone.
“It was mostly Dosinia,” Shannen says, carrying the bag from the ice cream shop over to the counter, where Aunt Rachel is getting out spoons and bowls. “She told us what to do.”
I turn to find Doe casually rearranging the front of the refrigerator, Prithi rubbing around her ankles as she aligns the menus and business cards and fortune-cookie fortunes that Aunt Rachel and I have accumulated over the years. I walk over to her, grab the magnet that had been holding the note and invitation in place, and put the sample invitation back where it was.
“Thank you,” I say, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her tight, whether she wants the hug or not.
Doe shrugs, like it was no big deal.
Well, to me it is. This is my first act as crown princess, my first official royal duty, and it would have been a struggle to do it without her help.
“Come on,” I say, tugging her away from the fridge, “let’s have ice cream.”
“Um,” she says as I pull her after me, “is your hair still blue?”
I freeze on my way to the kitchen table. All eyes in the room are on me, I can feel it. This is exactly the sort of thing Doe likes to pounce on, throwing the sharpest barbs when I’m at my weakest. I brace myself for her biting comment.
“I’ll fix it for you after ice cream.”
The air whooshes out of my lungs. I can’t have heard her right. Spinning slowly to face her, I’m sure my jaw is hanging open like an anglerfish just waiting for its unsuspecting prey to swim inside.
“Do you have a fever?” I ask. This is twice in one night she’s volunteered to help someone. And with no real benefit for her. She must be sick.
“What?” she throws back, sauntering past me to take a seat at the table. “I probably can’t get the blue out, but I’m sure I can make it look—” She looks up at me, makes a kind of swirly gesture, and winces. “Better.”
As Aunt Rachel and Shannen set the bowls of ice cream out on the table, I throw a stunned look at Quince. He gives me a kind of I-don’t-know-maybe-she’s-changed look in response. He’s always believed in her, and maybe he’s right. Maybe I need to give her the benefit of the doubt more often.
“Thanks,” I say, taking the seat next to her. “I’d appreciate anything you can do.”
She ignores me and slips a giant spoonful of strawberry ice cream into her mouth. She’d never admit it, but I think there’s the slightest hint of a blush on her cheeks.
Quince catches my eye and winks. He saw it too.
Today my cousin is being generous, and hopefully this weekend the rulers of the mer world will be the same.
I pull my big bowl of green-tea ice cream closer and dig in. The spoon is halfway to my mouth when the reality of the situation hits me. I’ve called a council of kings and queens. I’ve made a request of the rulers of the mer kingdoms of the Western Atlantic, asking them to come to my kingdom so I can make another request of them.
xoxo
Rachel
What? They finished everything? And they sent off the invitations via messenger gulls to the various kingdoms?
Clearly I was in the bath longer than I thought.
My heart does a little double thump. I trust my friends and family to do a good job, but . . . but I didn’t even get to see a finished invitation. What if Doe worded something wrong? Or had the wrong time or location or misspelled Queen Dumontia’s name? Sure, she corrected me on a couple of mistakes earlier, but she’s not perfect.
I yank the note off the fridge, and a sheet of pale-blue kelpaper that had been held up behind it falls to the floor.
It’s an invitation. Stuck in the middle is a bright pink sticky note.
Not that you need to, but you probably want to check my work.
Doe. I’m part annoyed by her arrogance and part relieved to see a finished invitation. I skim my eyes over the very official-sounding words.
Your attendance is requested at a council of mer kings and queens to be held in the royal kingdom of Thalassinia this Sunday at five o’clock Western Mer Time. Please send your reply to Mangrove at the royal palace with your intentions by Saturday evening.
Crown Princess Waterlily
of Thalassinia
My eyes tear up as I get to the end. Everything is perfect, exactly how it should be and exactly how I was not making it on my own. With so much riding on this meeting, I’m beyond relieved to know the invitations are checked off the list.
Behind me, the kitchen door swings open.
“It sounds like parts are going to rattle off,” Dosinia says.
“Runs just fine, dear,” Aunt Rachel says. “Gets me where I need to go, and that’s all I ask.”
Brody tugs at his ear. “I’d ask to keep my hearing.”
“I could take a look under the hood,” Quince offers. “Could be just a matter of a loose gasket.”
“No, really,” Aunt Rachel says, “it’s—”
She doesn’t have the chance to finish before I rush the group and grab them all into a big hug.
“Ooof,” Aunt Rachel grunts.
Quince catches everyone from the other side. “Whoa, princess.”
“You guys,” I say, trying to keep the emotion out of my voice, “are amazing.”
I plant loud kisses on Doe, Shannen, and Aunt Rachel’s cheeks. I would feel weird kissing Brody, even on the cheek, and I can’t quite reach Quince, but I give him a look that says he’ll be getting an even better kiss later. Doe twists out of the hug, and I reluctantly release everyone.
“It was mostly Dosinia,” Shannen says, carrying the bag from the ice cream shop over to the counter, where Aunt Rachel is getting out spoons and bowls. “She told us what to do.”
I turn to find Doe casually rearranging the front of the refrigerator, Prithi rubbing around her ankles as she aligns the menus and business cards and fortune-cookie fortunes that Aunt Rachel and I have accumulated over the years. I walk over to her, grab the magnet that had been holding the note and invitation in place, and put the sample invitation back where it was.
“Thank you,” I say, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her tight, whether she wants the hug or not.
Doe shrugs, like it was no big deal.
Well, to me it is. This is my first act as crown princess, my first official royal duty, and it would have been a struggle to do it without her help.
“Come on,” I say, tugging her away from the fridge, “let’s have ice cream.”
“Um,” she says as I pull her after me, “is your hair still blue?”
I freeze on my way to the kitchen table. All eyes in the room are on me, I can feel it. This is exactly the sort of thing Doe likes to pounce on, throwing the sharpest barbs when I’m at my weakest. I brace myself for her biting comment.
“I’ll fix it for you after ice cream.”
The air whooshes out of my lungs. I can’t have heard her right. Spinning slowly to face her, I’m sure my jaw is hanging open like an anglerfish just waiting for its unsuspecting prey to swim inside.
“Do you have a fever?” I ask. This is twice in one night she’s volunteered to help someone. And with no real benefit for her. She must be sick.
“What?” she throws back, sauntering past me to take a seat at the table. “I probably can’t get the blue out, but I’m sure I can make it look—” She looks up at me, makes a kind of swirly gesture, and winces. “Better.”
As Aunt Rachel and Shannen set the bowls of ice cream out on the table, I throw a stunned look at Quince. He gives me a kind of I-don’t-know-maybe-she’s-changed look in response. He’s always believed in her, and maybe he’s right. Maybe I need to give her the benefit of the doubt more often.
“Thanks,” I say, taking the seat next to her. “I’d appreciate anything you can do.”
She ignores me and slips a giant spoonful of strawberry ice cream into her mouth. She’d never admit it, but I think there’s the slightest hint of a blush on her cheeks.
Quince catches my eye and winks. He saw it too.
Today my cousin is being generous, and hopefully this weekend the rulers of the mer world will be the same.
I pull my big bowl of green-tea ice cream closer and dig in. The spoon is halfway to my mouth when the reality of the situation hits me. I’ve called a council of kings and queens. I’ve made a request of the rulers of the mer kingdoms of the Western Atlantic, asking them to come to my kingdom so I can make another request of them.
