Page 74 of Song of Lorelei
She dressed casually, but smartly, in dark wash jeans, and a collared, sleeveless blouse. Over her arm draped a leather tote, and a cream, cashmere sweater, no doubt brought to ward against frigid museum air conditioning.
Lorelei’s hands trembled so badly she had to set down her cup on top of a nearby case—a huge no, no, but this was her museum dammit. If anyone showed her a glimpse of what she might look like in twenty years, it was this woman.
Brushing clammy palms down the sides of her slacks, she took a deep breath, making the decision to approach. One, she was introducing herself to the other patrons, so it would be rude if she ignored her. And two, she might not ever get the chance again. Act like a normal human being. Act like a normal human being. Just talk museum stuff. This doesn’t have to be weird.
As her shadow fell over the display, the woman looked up and jumped, placing a hand over her chest. She blinked several times like something had gotten in them. “Oh gosh. You startled me.”
Taking several steadying breaths, Lorelei fought an overwhelming urge to cry.
Why did this woman sound so much like the woman who raised her—Marquette County Justice Greta Roth? A blend of German and Yooper accents. There was something about the square-set of her jawline, too, that was familiar.
The woman cleared her throat and thrust out her hand. “Annaliese Kruetz.”
That name also sounded familiar.
Speechless, Lorelei shook her hand. It was just as clammy as her own, which saved her from mild embarrassment. After a firm, brief squeeze, Annaliese pulled back, folding her hands behind her back. She fidgeted under Lorelei’s relentless stare, struggling to find the right words to say. “Beautiful museum,” was what she settled on.
Snapping back into director mode, Lorelei straightened. “Thank you and welcome. Where’re you coming from?”
“Ann Arbor, Michigan. Saw a syndicated article about this place in the local paper. Published in January, I think? There were a few others before that, all talking about mermaids. Wild stuff. Had to come see for myself where all the work was done.”
Lorelei nodded along. Jackie’s latest articles were about the virophage, and its use on merfolk populations to reduce species-destructive behaviors. “Well, the real work was done in the research center next door by a good friend of mine, but this museum has greatly benefited from her findings. Have you had a chance to take a tour of the facility?”
Annaliese shook her head. “I wanted to stop by here first. The reviews I read were glowing, and there was a nice write-up of you in my old hometown paper. I messaged you on LinkedIn a little while back actually—I don’t know if you remember that. You’re originally from the Upper Peninsula, right?”
“Oh yes! I thought your name sounded familiar. And yes, I’m from Marquette County.”
Annaliese averted her eyes, swiping a finger across the lacquered words of the information panel in front of her. “And you really built this place from the ground up?”
“I did. And not a day goes by that I don’t wonder how I managed to pull it all off. Poured a lot of love and a lot of tears into this place.”
“It’s phenomenal.” She smiled wistfully. “Well, anyway, I’m sure you’re extremely busy, so I won’t take up too much more of your time. But if it’s not a bother, I was hoping you could maybe recommend a few restaurants or coffee shops to check out while I’m here? I was in my early twenties the last time I visited Haven Cove.”
When she met Lorelei’s eyes once more, there was pain there, but fierce determination, too. “A lot has changed since then.”
Chapter Forty-Three
LORELEI
A text message notification lit up Lorelei’s phone screen with a number she didn’t recognize, but it had one of Michigan’s area codes, so she read it.
It’s Annaliese Kruetz. We met at the museum yesterday—you gave me your business card. I know this might be weird, but I was wondering if you might like to get coffee with me this morning? I wasn’t completely honest with you about who I was when we met yesterday, and I know that sounds ominous, but I knew Greta Roth, and I was hoping we could talk in person. You can most certainly decline. No hard feelings if you do.
She knew Greta. She wanted to talk.
Adrenaline raced through Lorelei’s veins. With shaky fingers, she accepted the invitation and suggested a time and place to meet. In her heart, she knew the truth. And that truth was exactly the reason why Annaliese reached out—first online, then in person, and now again.
Her biological mother wanted to reunite.
* * *
They found an empty table at the back of a coffee shop in town and sat down with their tea. It was busy, tourist season being in full swing, but there was privacy in the constant buzz of conversation all around them.
“Thank you for meeting with me,” Annaliese began, nervously picking at the cardboard sleeve around her cup. “I know that was such a weird text message to receive, but I promise I’ll explain everything.”
I’m listening, go ahead, explain away—nothing she could think of to say seemed encouraging enough, so Lorelei just nodded, her heart thundering wildly in her chest.
Annaliese took a deep breath. “I knew Greta Roth, and I loved and trusted her more than anyone else in the world. Not a day goes by that I don’t miss her, and wow, there’s no easy way to say this. You see, I’m your…” She faltered, face burning.