Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 102166 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 511(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102166 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 511(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
“But why?”
“Good question. If you ask her, can you also try to figure out why she’s taken up entomology too?”
“Entomology?”
“She collects dead bugs and pins them to a board. I suspect she only got into it because I told her I didn’t think there was anywhere nearby that taught taxidermy classes.”
“When did this all happen?” Henry asked.
“Seems like she got a whole life going while we were out of town for that golf tournament.” He wasn’t sure if he was freaked out, intrigued, or completely charmed by it, to be honest. On the one hand, he loved how she was settling in and finding hobbies and interests. On the other, he did kind of wish her interests weren’t so unsettling.
It had only been two and a half days. But that was long enough for Iris to really spread out.
And Finn wanted her to feel comfortable, to start to think of his apartment as her home as well. To that end, he found himself charmed by the piles of books all around, her coral comb that was always left somewhere random after one of her many daily hair brushings, and her random kicked-off clothes on the bedroom or bathroom floor.
Those things were familiar and domestic.
The teeth and bugs, though, that was just as creepy as an undead subway rat making eye contact.
To be completely honest, he had purposely not done the research on the taxidermy thing. He wasn’t sure he could stomach coming home to find a bunch of stiff, dead animals scattered all around his home, staring at him with unnerving glass eyes.
“I thought mermaids were supposed to collect shiny things,” Henry said.
“Whatever you do, don’t say that to her.”
“Why not?”
“Because I made that mistake right when I got home and saw them. She told me I was being speciesist and ran to the bathroom and cried. Loudly. For hours.”
It was strange how fragile she seemed to be. This woman in his apartment, integrated in his life, barely resembled the fiery-eyed woman who’d dumped a drink on his head when he’d come off as a bit of a jerk at their first meeting.
“Well, could you lightly encourage less morbid hobbies?”
“I barely know the woman, Henry. I can’t start dictating what she does for fun.”
“Well, maybe you need to get to know her more. Take her to an art class. Or pickleball. Anything but this,” he said, shaking the jar of teeth. “You have no engagements until tomorrow afternoon. See what you can do with that time.”
With that, Henry was off.
“Do we have any more push pins?” Iris called, walking into the apartment a few minutes later, holding a dead caterpillar in her hand. “Willow found this around the roots of her tree, so she gave it to me.”
Great.
Another dead bug.
This one was huge, too.
“I think we’re out. Maybe we can just set this guy outside for the birds to eat.”
“Why? Don’t you think he’s beautiful?” she asked, shoving the thing in Finn’s face.
It took every bit of media training Henry had forced him through not to wince. Or gag. Possibly both.
“Yeah, it’s a … fine caterpillar.”
“Fine?” she asked, her face falling, her eyes hardening.
He wasn’t sure what about his words had such a dramatic transformation overtaking her, but all the warmth and sweetness he’d come to know her for—creepy hobbies aside—disappeared.
“Well, fine. I’ll just throw him away, then.”
She stormed over toward the cabinet where the trash can lived.
Finn was quicker, grabbing her wrist to stop her from throwing out the fat green caterpillar.
“I will order more push pins,” he said. “Why don’t we stick him in one of those food containers you saved until then?”
It wasn’t just teeth and bugs she collected, but every single plastic container that takeaway food came in. Usually, she could be found scrubbing them while bumbling to herself about plastic pollution and careless humans.
If Finn hadn’t been watching her so closely, he might have missed the look of disappointment that crossed her gorgeous face.
But no.
That made no sense.
He was giving her what she wanted. Why would she be disappointed by that?
Maybe he was just bad at reading her. Perhaps mermaids emoted differently. He really needed to find some time to do a deep dive—as it were—into her culture. If he came from a place of understanding, maybe they could avoid some of the growing pains they seemed to be dealing with.
“I have an idea,” he said as he dropped her arm, so he didn’t give in to the desire to run his thumb across the nearly translucent skin there.
“An idea?” she prompted as he produced a small to-go container into which she quickly dropped the caterpillar. Almost as if it grossed her out to hold it. She even quickly turned to wash her hands.
Finn’s brows pinched as he watched her. “Do you have any plans tonight?”