Dad said to meet him here at noon. It's now a quarter after twelve. I search around the marina. What is taking him so long? Had he forgotten that he texted me to bring lunch? My hand clutches the brown bag I am carrying. If I wait any later, the food will go stale.
I shrug to myself. It's not like it will be my fault.
I make myself comfortable while I stick around, which comprised of me standing in the middle of the dock as far away from the boundaries as possible. Why Dad instructed me to meet him here was beyond me.
The slap of the water against the wood below makes my nerves run wild. I press the lumber with my foot to make certain it could withstand my weight. I wasn't a big person by any means, but the thought of stepping on just one piece already on its hinges terrified me. Why I agree to visit these places...
What keeps me sane is the salty breeze. The smell alone is like a narcotic, calming my anxieties. I close my eyes and take it in one long breath after another.
An abrupt, loud slapping noise that pierces the air, nearly has me soaring off the dock. My attention snaps toward the clamor, legs ready to fly in a moments notice. When my eyes settle on a man pushing himself from the water I relax. I'm twice as jumpy next to large bodies of water.
I observe him climb onto the dock with suck grace and ease, muscles tightening as he moved. Excess water streams down his light almond skin and onto the dock, some returning to the water from once they came. I nod to myself with satisfaction. Judging by the muscle quality, he is an active individual. The moment he stands upright, I avert my gawking elsewhere. But stare at him out of the corner of my eye as he has become my only entertainment as I await Dad.
I moved my head just a tad to watch him better. He stoops down and fetches the culprit of the noise that had initially surprised me - a pair of black fins - and start in my direction. Bringing his towel over his head, he brushes it against his short dark hair a few times before working it down his body.
The minute he looks forward, his striking hazel blue eyes lock with mine. I snap my head back to front, heart pounding for getting caught staring. My ears burn with embarrassment. I spin toward shore and walk, hoping to escape.
"Hey," I hear him announce. Oh no, he's calling me out on it. Do I say sorry? Do I pretend not to hear him?
I pause, feeling his steps vibrate the dock as he neared me. So much for fleeing. I turn toward him, hands gripping onto the sack so tight the paper tears from my nails. My eyes are the last thing to meet him, but as they lock I'm sucked in. They are so clear you can see the lined patterns within them.
He looks like he belongs on some inaccessible island no one's discovered yet where everyone is strong, almond skinned and light eyed.
"You must be Mr. Morrison's daughter. You have the same eyes." His deep southern accent is slight, but distinct. "Molly is it?"
My mind couldn't seem to grasp the situation unfolding. This strange, half-naked exotic looking man knows who I am, knows who Dad is. I had no clue who he was.
He holds out his hand, a cordial smile now drawn on his face. I disconnect myself from his seizing eyes and peer down at his hand.
"William Profit," he introduces himself. "But everyone calls me Will."
The universal gesture of friendship. No, I can't accept it. I don't need friends, no matter how hot they may be.
"... It's a handshake." He remarks my reluctance.
"I know what a handshake is," I sign as I return his gaze. "I'll take your hand, but expect nothing to come of it. Merely doing it to be respectful." His expression is vacant as I take his hand, give a good solid shake and let go.
"What just happened?" He sputters.
I roll my eyes and drag out my phone. "I said I'm shaking your hand to be polite, but I'm not seeking friendship. And no, I'm not deaf, so don't assume you can say whatever you want around me and I won't hear it. I'm mute."
"You can't talk?"
I nod my head. "Think of me like the Little Mermaid... sort of. Minus the crimson hair, fishtail and the fact I have a profound fear of the ocean. Hence why I am remaining in the middle of this dock."
Will smirks. "So did you exchange your voice to be with your one true love?"
"I wish. I traded it in so she would pardon my life."
"Really?"
"Pretty much. How else would I be alive to tell you the tale?"
It was Grammy who put it in my mind I was the Little Mermaid. I wasn't like her, per se, but I was a child with a wild imagination incited by an old woman's beliefs. I remember telling people the sea witch brought me back to life, but in return I had to give her my voice. Even Dad played along. He perhaps felt it helped with coping. But this wasn't a Disney movie. There was no prince to fall in love with me to bring it back. I am forever stuck this way. Kind of depressing when I reflect about it nowadays.
"So what were you doing out there?" I type, nodding my head toward the direction he had come from.
He follows my nod, gazing out before returning. "Oh, swimming and diving. Something I do every lunch hour as a stress reliever, you know?"
"In that?" I note the murky water.
"Sure." I recall a sign that read 'no swimming.' I guess residents just don't care.
"So you know my dad? Are you coworkers?" The flat female robot-like voice asks him.
Will's attitude shifts as he snickers, nodding as if it amused him I had no clue who he was. "Something like that, yeah."
I nod with him. "That makes sense now."
"Oh?" He raises an eyebrow at my statement, crisscrossing his arms in front of his still very exposed chest.
"I was considering maybe you were a creeper preying on the feeble."
He snorts at my opinion. "Do I give off that vibe?"
I shrug. "No, not really, but you're good looking and I've seen enough shows where the handsome men uses his pectorals to lure in unsuspecting females."
"Have you now?" I can see him resisting the laugh. He lost the battle with the smile.
When he looks back up at me, his eyes embrace mine and for a split second I feel myself become disoriented.
"Molly!" Dad's voice calls from down the docks. Will and I both turn to see him waving as he moved toward us. Thank you, Dad for ending our potential bonding time. That was too close.
"I better change and return to work," Will concludes. "It was nice to meet you, Ariel." He winks with a crooked smile before he strides off.
I watch him stride down the dock, exchanging acknowledgments with my dad as they pass.
"I'm sorry I kept you waiting," Dad apologizes as he approaches me. He jabs behind him with his thumb. "Got bogged down with unforeseen work."
I slide my phone back into my pocket. "It's all right," I sign, passing the bag of food off to him.
"I see you've met my boss. I thought about inviting him and some coworkers over for a barbecue one weekend so you can meet him." He rummages through the brown paper bag, snatching a couple french fries to cram into his mouth.
My eyes widen significantly. "Wait... That guy is your boss?" He nods. "Aquaman is your boss?" I feel myself flush in horror.
"Did you not just see me nod to your earlier question?" I wasn't listening. I called him a creeper! "Quite a looker isn't he? Who knew he'd be young." Dad goes on with his mouth full.
I follow Dad back to shore, feeling sick to my stomach. Was what I did going to affect my Dad? I pray not.
"How was your morning? Find anything to occupy all this free time you have?" He asks as he stops and plunks himself on the edge of the dock close to the shoreline. I shrug in response.
He removes his shoes and dangles his feet over the edge not even close to the water. That's how short he is. I hesitate, keeping myself to the middle of the dock.
"You know, one of these days you will have to push through this fear of yours. Oceans make up most of the world." He waves his sogging hot dog around as he speaks. "Embrace it, girly." With that he shoves the dog as far into his mouth as he can.
He rambled through lunch. He talked about college and how I should get a Summer job to save for college "fun." But I recognized it was just his idea of keeping the silences at bay. If there was one thing he hated, it was silences when conversing with someone.
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