What the Tide Brings

Chapter 22 - Liam - How Do You Know?

Liam ended up at The Old Shack. He needed somewhere quiet to think about Kaelin's ultimatum, and the place was practically deserted. During the day, the tourists kept themselves busy shopping in town, having fun at the boardwalk, and, of course, cluttering up the public beaches. This early in the evening, The Old Shack entertained only its most loyal patrons.

Liam went straight to the bar and took a seat on one of the cracked leather stools. Somebody appeared in front of him. He half-expected it to be Molly, but it was too early for her shift. She only worked premium hours, unless she was filling in for someone. And, why not? A hot redhead was a big draw for the drunken frat boys that filled the place come sundown.

"What'll you have?" asked a gruff voice.

Liam looked up at the white-haired, old man. Albert—Liam thought that's what Molly had called him—looked like he was about ready to murder someone, however, that could be due to the long scar down his face that drew his right eye into a squint and the corner of his mouth down, giving him a permanent scowl.

Liam wondered about the scar, but he didn't ask. Instead, he said, "Just a beer. Whatever's on tap."

"You got any ID?" The bartender sounded rather uninterested, as though he didn't really care one or the other; he just asked because he had to.

Still, Liam produced his excellently crafted fake ID. He'd purchased it from a guy at school for two hundred dollars, and it had proven to be worth every cent. Albert must've agreed. Or maybe he didn't, it was hard to tell. Either way, he handed the card back and filled a glass with the dark amber liquid from the tap.

When he put the beer down in front of Liam, it sloshed in the glass and a bit of foam spilled over the side onto Liam's sleeve. He pushed the sleeves up, regretting the choice of a long-sleeved shirt.

Meanwhile, Albert walked away without a word of apology or acknowledgement.

The seat beside Liam squeaked in protest as someone sat down and drummed their fingers on the counter. "It's a bit early for that, don't you think, sport?"

Busted! Liam turned toward the familiar voice. He was both glad to see Grandfather's weathered, tanned face, and annoyed that he'd gotten caught.

"What are you doing here?" Liam asked.

Grandfather motioned over his shoulder to a table where two old men sat, both wearing coveralls dirty with what Liam assumed was grease. "Catching up with some buddies. Telling 'em all about the twelve pound tuna I caught."

Liam scoffed. Grandfather was practically the inventor of fish stories. It was hard to know when he was telling the truth or when he was just full of it. Although, mermaid stories, it seemed, he was one hundred percent truthful about. "You caught a twelve pound tuna?" Liam raised an eyebrow, highly doubtful.

Grandfather leaned in close to Liam. "That's what they think." He offered a sly wink.

"I bet." Liam chuckled, fingering the rim of his glass. "What happened to it this time? Catch and release? Or did it slip the hook?"

Grandfather let out a boisterous, gravelly laugh and clapped Liam on the back. "You know me too well, kid."

Maybe better than he thought. Liam wondered if he should tell him about Kaelin. He would be overjoyed to learn that an actual mermaid was their houseguest. He credited the one that saved him as the reason he'd met his wife—Liam's late grandmother. Of course, no one believed him about that. It was just another one of James Culver's tall tales.

Just as Liam opened his mouth to mention her, Grandfather called out to Albert. "Get me one of those, would you?" He pointed to Liam's beer.

Liam looked at him with wide eyes, shocked. "You aren't just gonna drink this one?"