Mermaid by Judy Griffith Gill

had been those who’d scoffed, who’d assured him he was wasting not only his father’s hard-earned money but his own precious time.
    “Do you like what you’re doing, Jillian?” he asked, knowing he had to change the subject before he gave into his own impulse and spread all his hopes and dreams before her, babbling like a fool and asking for her approval.
    She hesitated as he had done, and then said, “In many ways. It’s not much of a mental challenge, I admit, but I do enjoy most of it.”
    “But you’d rather be back working in the school system.”
    It wasn’t, she recognized a question. “I did love teaching and counseling,” she agreed carefully. “It’s—it was—what I did best.”
    He looked at her over the rim of his mug as he drank another mouthful of coffee, then set the mug down, leaning back on the couch. Rolling his head sideways to look at her, he asked quietly, “Why did you leave it?” He knew he had asked her before, but her answer hadn’t satisfied him. This time, in the quiet of the night, with the beginnings of an aura of trust wrapping around them, he thought he might get the truth.
    But she, too, seemed to think that it was too soon for confidences. He found her answer evasive. “There were several reasons. I got sick and had to stay home for a while. When I was better, I discovered that I couldn’t...handle...a full day in a front of a class. My school didn’t have a full-time counseling position so I did the next best thing, took the job at the club. Besides, just about then, my mother started suffering from angina attacks. The doctors said they weren’t life-threatening, but I didn’t—don’t—want to leave her alone. And I do like my job at the club. Swimming was my avocation, as I said. I simply turned it into my vocation.”
    She smiled wryly. “Surprisingly, for a lot fewer hours and for work that requires no brains at all I’m earning nearly twice as much as I ever did in the classroom. I’ve always wondered why some football players earn more than most brain surgeons, and exotic dancers-mermaids included—more than teachers. It seems incongruous that people are so willing to pay to be entertained and so chary when it comes to the important issues like medicine and education.”
    “It doesn’t seem fair, does it?” he said.
    “No, but I must confess that the hours suit me and I like the extra pay. It’s nice being home with Amber during the day. From the time she was only a couple of months old I’ve had to work. These past two years have been a real joy because I can spend so much more time with her. Of course, it’ll be different starting In September when she’s in school all day.”
    “You’re going to miss her, I know,” he said. She was sure he did know, this man who had been forced to live apart from his own child and who, even though he now had that child with him, was still far apart from him in all the ways that counted.
    “Yes, I’ll miss her like crazy, but it’s something all parents have to go through, and it’ll mean less strain on my mother. She likes to pretend she’s just fine, but I worry about her.
    “She needs a life of her own too. She’s certainly young enough to marry again if she had the chance to get out and meet people instead of being tied down with my child most evenings.”
    For a moment he was silent, looking down at his lap. He set his coffee cup down. Then, with a quick glance up at her, one she was beginning to think characteristic of him, he said, “And what about you? You’ve been a widow a long time. Have you been alone all those years, or have you thought about marrying again?”
    She shrugged. “Once or twice.”
    “But?” His glance was keen, and this time it stayed pinned on her face.
    “But it didn’t work out. It was just one of those things. When I moved up here we drifted apart. Nothing earthshaking. No heartbreak or anything. Just an ending and a little...sadness.”
    He nodded as if he