good,” Joy said.
Hayes smiled. “Mine was actually okay.”
“Two for two,” Joy said.
My mom had left seven messages on my phone, asking how the first gig went. I texted back: Great .
Cassie was next.
The temperature had warmed up, and none of the snow had stuck. As Joy pulled up to the house, the sun burst through the clouds.
“Hallelujah,” Joy said, turning off the engine. She glanced at her watch. “She should be done any minute.”
My stomach growled and I was seriously considering asking Joy if she might have packed any snacks for a hardworking mermaid, when the front door of the house opened and Cassie floated out, surrounded by five-year-olds. The mother tried to get the girls back into the house, but they followed without their coats on.
“It’s okay,” Cassie said to the mom. “We’ll have one last good-bye.” Quickly, she lined up the girls and waltzed down the line, giving each child a hug and a tap on the head with her wand.
“Thank the Lord.” Joy sighed. “Look at that. She’s a natural.”
Cassie daintily pulled up her gown, ran to the van, turned, blew kisses, and got inside.
“Wait!” The dad came running out the front door with a pink cupcake and a ten-dollar bill and handed them through the window to Cassie before waving good-bye.
Joy was beaming. “They loved you.”
Cassie handed the tip to Joy.
“No. Tips are yours to keep.”
Cassie smiled. “I can’t believe I’m getting paid to do this.” She turned to Hayes and me, her face glowing. “Isn’t it great?”
“Yep,” I said. “It’s a barrel of monkeys.”
She broke off a piece of cupcake and put it between her ruby lips. “Yum. Want a bite, anyone?”
I was dying for a bite, but I shook my head and lied: “I had, like, ten pieces of cake at Samantha’s house.”
Hayes took a bite. Cassie chattered away, filling us in on all the details of the amazing job she did, and filling up the car with the sugary smell of frosting. Finally, we picked up Fin.
Just seeing his orange face and funny fake dreadlocks as he climbed into the van cheered me up.
“Children are savages,” he said. “That was the most exhausting thing I’ve ever done in my life. CUPCAKE?” He looked at Cassie. “I didn’t get anything.”
“Here.” Cassie handed him her last bite.
“How did it go?” I asked as he stuffed it into his mouth.
“They were horrible. They laughed at my song. So I ditched the script and made them walk the plank.”
Joy’s head snapped around. “YOU WHAT?”
“I picked the two beastliest boys to be crocodiles and told them to lie down. Then, one by one, I made the others jump off the chair, and when they landed on the floor, the crocodiles got to bite their little ankles. They loved it.”
“Son of a freaking biscuit! Do not go off script,” Joy said. “Somebody could get hurt.”
We both started to lose it.
“Whatever you’re laughing at back there, it’s not funny,” Joy said.
10
THE BLOG
C ASSIE L OTT’S BLOG was like a Dead-Sea-salt-induced itch that I had to scratch. I was simply curious, I told myself. Just a bit of harmless, mildly jealous snooping.
Subscribe! Follow me on Twitter!
Follow me on Facebook!
She had 2,433 followers and was following 1,112 people and organizations.
She hadn’t posted anything new — perhaps she was too busy with her volunteer work or all her extracurricular activities, I thought — so I resorted to lookingat previous entries, when a photo she had posted in August jumped out to bite me in the jugular: a seahorse.
A Glimpse in the Wild
Whenever I dive, I keep a close lookout for seahorses to photograph for the SOS (Save Our Seahorse) survey project, which is collecting data to document the lives of seahorses, but most are tiny and shy and hard to find. I got lucky today and spotted this Pacific seahorse off the coast of Monterey. The Pacific seahorse is the largest species. This one is about five inches.
See how its tail is wrapped
Hayes smiled. “Mine was actually okay.”
“Two for two,” Joy said.
My mom had left seven messages on my phone, asking how the first gig went. I texted back: Great .
Cassie was next.
The temperature had warmed up, and none of the snow had stuck. As Joy pulled up to the house, the sun burst through the clouds.
“Hallelujah,” Joy said, turning off the engine. She glanced at her watch. “She should be done any minute.”
My stomach growled and I was seriously considering asking Joy if she might have packed any snacks for a hardworking mermaid, when the front door of the house opened and Cassie floated out, surrounded by five-year-olds. The mother tried to get the girls back into the house, but they followed without their coats on.
“It’s okay,” Cassie said to the mom. “We’ll have one last good-bye.” Quickly, she lined up the girls and waltzed down the line, giving each child a hug and a tap on the head with her wand.
“Thank the Lord.” Joy sighed. “Look at that. She’s a natural.”
Cassie daintily pulled up her gown, ran to the van, turned, blew kisses, and got inside.
“Wait!” The dad came running out the front door with a pink cupcake and a ten-dollar bill and handed them through the window to Cassie before waving good-bye.
Joy was beaming. “They loved you.”
Cassie handed the tip to Joy.
“No. Tips are yours to keep.”
Cassie smiled. “I can’t believe I’m getting paid to do this.” She turned to Hayes and me, her face glowing. “Isn’t it great?”
“Yep,” I said. “It’s a barrel of monkeys.”
She broke off a piece of cupcake and put it between her ruby lips. “Yum. Want a bite, anyone?”
I was dying for a bite, but I shook my head and lied: “I had, like, ten pieces of cake at Samantha’s house.”
Hayes took a bite. Cassie chattered away, filling us in on all the details of the amazing job she did, and filling up the car with the sugary smell of frosting. Finally, we picked up Fin.
Just seeing his orange face and funny fake dreadlocks as he climbed into the van cheered me up.
“Children are savages,” he said. “That was the most exhausting thing I’ve ever done in my life. CUPCAKE?” He looked at Cassie. “I didn’t get anything.”
“Here.” Cassie handed him her last bite.
“How did it go?” I asked as he stuffed it into his mouth.
“They were horrible. They laughed at my song. So I ditched the script and made them walk the plank.”
Joy’s head snapped around. “YOU WHAT?”
“I picked the two beastliest boys to be crocodiles and told them to lie down. Then, one by one, I made the others jump off the chair, and when they landed on the floor, the crocodiles got to bite their little ankles. They loved it.”
“Son of a freaking biscuit! Do not go off script,” Joy said. “Somebody could get hurt.”
We both started to lose it.
“Whatever you’re laughing at back there, it’s not funny,” Joy said.
10
THE BLOG
C ASSIE L OTT’S BLOG was like a Dead-Sea-salt-induced itch that I had to scratch. I was simply curious, I told myself. Just a bit of harmless, mildly jealous snooping.
Subscribe! Follow me on Twitter!
Follow me on Facebook!
She had 2,433 followers and was following 1,112 people and organizations.
She hadn’t posted anything new — perhaps she was too busy with her volunteer work or all her extracurricular activities, I thought — so I resorted to lookingat previous entries, when a photo she had posted in August jumped out to bite me in the jugular: a seahorse.
A Glimpse in the Wild
Whenever I dive, I keep a close lookout for seahorses to photograph for the SOS (Save Our Seahorse) survey project, which is collecting data to document the lives of seahorses, but most are tiny and shy and hard to find. I got lucky today and spotted this Pacific seahorse off the coast of Monterey. The Pacific seahorse is the largest species. This one is about five inches.
See how its tail is wrapped
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