When he’d stumbled upon the website for the lovely little inn, it had seemed serendipitous – but, charmed by the pictures and hooked by the name, he’d called to inquire about long-term rates. Irma had been very accommodating, due to their low-season, she’d said, and before he’d known it, he had set his summer plans to research the myths of the sirens of Siren Island. As a literature professor at Harvard University, he was particularly interested in mythology, and the sirens were at the top of his list to research. He’d earned the summer off, having taught for ten years – including summer programs – and rarely taking trips that weren’t for work.
Not like this trip wasn’t for work, too, but he’d built some time in for relaxation as well. He needed the vacation. His family worried for him; Theodore’s mother chided him that he was working himself to the bone – and for what? He already had all the money he’d ever need. An early-round investment in a dotcom company that had been bought out had set him up for life. When a life free from the worry of making money had presented itself, Theodore had turned to working for love instead. And his first love? Well, it had always been books.
Sure, he’d been the nerdy kid kicking around the playground with a book in front of his nose. He couldn’t even count the number of times he’d had his glasses broken, his book snatched from his hands, or been given a black eye or two. It was the way of things, he supposed. Some would say he was still dorky, but he no longer cared what anyone else thought – though if he was honest, he still had his own internal demons to deal with. Otherwise, Theodore lived life on his terms, doing what he loved, and he liked to think he’d helped a geeky kid or two find their way in life as well.
He pushed his glasses up with his finger and blinked as the transition lenses tinted darker when he stepped into the sunshine.
“Theodore?” A woman – surely a supermodel if he’d ever seen one – straightened from where she leaned against a dusty pickup truck. Her long white hair hung in a loose braid over her shoulder, and her slender body was wrapped in a flowing pink dress. Bracelets jingled at her wrists when she waved to him, and if he didn’t know better, he would have thought he’d found his first land-mermaid.
“That’s me. Irma?”
“Yes. Welcome to Siren Island. May I help you with your bags?”
“No ma’am, I’ve got them. And may I say, you are just as lovely as a sunset over still waters.”
“That’s quite sweet of you, thank you. If I were twenty years younger, I’d thank you in a different way.”
It took Theodore a beat to realize she was flirting with him, and his face flushed. It still flustered him when women paid attention to him, no matter how far he’d come from being the nerdy kid on the playground with no friends. At least he’d gotten better at hiding it.
“And I – or any man – would be a fool to pass that offer up.”
“It’s a right shame. But you’re not for me, so I’ll just admire you from afar and appreciate your good manners,” Irma said, smiling at him. He had automatically rounded the truck to hold the driver’s side door open for her.
“My mother was a stickler for manners.”
“Sounds like she raised you right. Where are you from, Dr. Theodore Macalister?” Irma asked as she started the truck, her bracelets jingling as she shifted into gear and zipped from the parking lot at a startling speed.
“Call me Ted, please. And I’m from Vermont originally.”
“Vermont? I hear it’s lovely there.”
“It is. We’ve got our own unique brand of people in Vermont, and I do love going back to visit my family.” Ted kept his eyes trained on the sea, hoping to see something magickal spring from its waters. The sea always delivered surprises to him, and he never failed to be enchanted by her. Maybe it was because he’d grown up landlocked, or maybe it was the delight he found in ocean-based myths, but the sea felt like home to him.
“Where’s home, if not Vermont?”
“Ah, not too far from there. I’m in Boston now.”
“Big city guy?” Irma cast a surprised look at him as the truck bumped from a paved road to a dirt one.
“Not my favorite, no, but work takes me there. And I can find enough nature to be satisfied. I live on the Charles River, and as long as I’m close to water, I’m happy.”
“Then you’ll be ecstatic at the Laughing Mermaid.”
“From the pictures online, I gather that I will. Thank you again for offering the long-term pricing. That was very nice of you.”
“We’re happy to do it. Less work for us to turn over rooms during low season. The villa is just up the way.” Irma nodded to a white villa tucked among several breezy palms and skidded the truck to a stop in a cloud of dust. Ted got out as quickly as he could, but Irma had already slung his backpack over her shoulder.
“Please, let me,” Ted protested, but Irma just laughed up at him.
“I’m stronger than I look. Let’s get you settled so you can relax.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Ted followed Irma up a beautiful wood staircase, then down a bright, airy hallway to an arched doorway.
“This is your room,” Irma said, pushing it open and walking in to place his pack on the luggage stand. Ted followed and let out a low whistle. The room was done up in soothing whites and vibrant greens, leaving any other color to come from the shocking blue of the sea outside the balcony doors. A splashy rug in a vibrant green palm-leaf pattern and several potted plants tucked in corners added a tropical feel to the room; the bed frame was bamboo, and sheer white curtains framed the windows. It was perfect – not too fussy or distracting – and the low-slung chairs on the balcony begged for someone to kick their feet up and while away the hours looking out to the ocean.
“There’s a welcome book with all the pertinent information here.” Irma gestured to a desk with a small leather book. “Wifi code, phone numbers, and all that. Will you need a cell phone?”
“I have mine set for international.”
“Perfect. Our numbers are in there. I suggest programming them in case you need us for anything while you’re out.”
“Thank you.”
“We’ve added a welcome pack of food to your fridge, so you don’t need to worry about running to get food first thing.”
“I appreciate that. That helps a lot, because I still have to figure out my transportation situation. I was thinking I might hire a scooter.”
“It’s an option. Or we can work a deal with some friends and their truck if you’d like. We know someone who helps property-manage the homes of people who don’t live on the island full-time. Some of them like to rent their cars out so they don’t sit and rust for months at a time.”
“That’d be perfect, thanks.”
“Is there anything else you need right now?”
“I think I’m all set. I’ll get settled in and maybe take a walk on the beach.”
“Don’t forget your sunscreen. It’s hot out there,” Irma said, walking to the door and pointing to a key hanging on a hook. “Key’s here. We have our own suites downstairs, so if you need anything, please don’t hesitate to ask. I hope you’ll join us for a drink one of these nights?”