The rest of the off-season went quickly after we parted ways with my parents. I missed them already. Now that they knew Troller and I were together, we chatted with them or vid-called whenever we could. 

We made plans to spend a week somewhere on the water during the next downtime we had. I was looking forward to spending time with them again. Their acceptance of Troller and our relationship made me realize how scared I was that they wouldn’t accept me. I was afraid that ‘Royce, the fisherman’ would never live up to their expectations. I should have known better, considering everything they had been through at the beginning of their relationship.

Troller and I worked to get the rest of the boat renovated before the crew came on board. Pete helped with a lot of it. When Troller had suggested the other renovations after changing the captain’s quarters, I realized how much it needed it. I’d planned for the general maintenance every year but hadn’t thought about updating crew quarters, and no one ever complained. They were the same ones I’d had when I was a deckhand. By the time we were done, the new spaces were terrific, and the crew loved them. 

As the crew gathered on board, they realized Troller was coming with us. Between Troller, Pete, and I, we decided to keep Troller’s real identity a secret. Once the crew got to know him, it was like he had been here all along. 

When we came back into port the first weekend of the season, Troller and I talked about it while the crew was in town. 

“While it’s obvious to your crew that I’m not human, they don’t ask me about my hair or eyes. The fact that my irises are not like human ones,” Troller said as we laid in bed together.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if anyone is purely human anymore. A lot of families have branches of their family trees that are related to other species. There might even be a few distantly related merpeople around the docks or working on boats.”

“Humans no longer discriminate against others?”

“Well, I can’t say that though I wish that was the case. Some humans do. Other species do as well, but for the most part, everyone co-inhabits peacefully. And as far as the crew’s concern, they likely find it interesting, but they won’t ask because it’s none of their business. They only care about how well you do your job and that I’m not giving you special privileges.”

Troller narrowed his eyes at me. “Isn’t sleeping with the captain a special privilege?”

“Only if I’m disrupting the day’s work.” I turned toward him a little. “I can’t say I haven’t been tempted. Especially when you wear those blue shorts.” He laughed, and I kissed him. I loved hearing him laugh. 

Since he swam with my parents, Troller became more convinced that his pod wasn’t looking for him any longer. So we’d taken more chances by going out for a few hours in the open water every week or so for him to shift and swim. Pete knew what was going on since I had him take over the boat on the nights we went swimming. 

Often we’d pick nights that the open water was calm, there was little mammalian activity in the water, and Troller felt like he needed to swim. When the crew broke for dinner on a quiet Thursday night after a decent day’s fishing, I saw Troller coming for the stairs to the nest and knew what he planned to ask. 

I held up a hand to forestall his usual question. “I’ll let Pete know we’re going for a swim.” Troller grinned, nodded, and went to get things ready. 

While it felt weird to me for Troller to ask permission to swim, he thought it was for the best. It was his way of showing respect for my position. 

Our excuse to the crew was teaching Troller how to do night dives. It was a valuable skill to have, but not one Troller really had to worry about. He could see better and swim better than any of us at night, in either form. We took the small raft and the diving gear, mainly to keep up the pretense.

As we got about a hundred or so meters between the boat and the shoreline, I dropped the small anchor to keep the raft stationary. 

“Tonight, we practice names again,” Troller said.

“Do you ever think I’m going to be able to say your name with this throat?”

“Not really, but you should be able to remember the tones well enough to vocalize them.”

“You say that now,” I laughed. 

“I believe in you, love,” Troller said as he rolled off the side of the raft. He tossed his trunks back into the boat, and a few moments later, I was looking at Troller the merman. He propelled himself out of the water for a moment and gave me a quick kiss before he dove back in. 

I worried that we were taking a risk we didn’t have to take, but I also worried that if he didn’t have these breaks to swim, he’d slowly lose his connection with the water. Then it would be the same as if I took his magic away.

Most times, I rarely got out of the boat. Tonight I did because Troller insisted so I could feel the chest vibrations along with the vocalizations. He’d told me that feeling the words with my body was just as important as vocalizing them. 

Troller did a low to high slide up while he pointed to himself. I repeated, and he repeated it again. When I’d manage to repeat his name with my vocal cords, he got a pleased look, and I realized his name must have been simple compared to mine. 

Click and a vocalization, then another click. I tried learning the tones, but they never came out quite right.

When Troller and I got back on the boat, he laughed. “You’ll get it eventually, love. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

“Easy for you to say. You have the right vocal cords.” He shrugged.

“Is it just me, or is shifting between the two forms becoming easier for you? You don’t seem like you are in as much pain anymore.”

“You’re right. I’ve also been able to shift more quickly. It’s not completely without discomfort, but it doesn’t last as long.” He looked thoughtful for a moment. “I imagine before we hid, we probably shifted between breaths like it was the most natural thing for us to do.”

“Maybe someday, it will be like that again,” I offered.

“Maybe.” Troller looked back toward the boat while I started the raft’s engine and pulled the anchor. When I glanced at him again, he was actively scanning the water for something.

“What’s wrong?” I yelled over the engine. 

“I thought I saw something.”

“Like what?”

“Dolphins.” He shook his head. “Maybe I imagined them.”

“You didn’t hear or see anything, did you?”

“No. But they could have been far enough off or behind a cove.”

“Far enough not to know?”

“I don’t know. Unlike them, we were making noise.”

I reached for his hand, and he took it. “It’ll be alright. If they send someone for you, we’ll deal with it.”

He nodded. It was evident from the look on his face that he wanted to believe me. I wanted to believe what I said too, but in truth, I wasn’t sure at all.