Page 75 of Song of Lorelei

There was a story Greta had told Lorelei many times.

About how she came to be adopted.

A baby was left crying on her doorstep with a brief note pinned to the blanket, and on it a name was written. Lorelei. It sounded like fantasy, a whimsical fairytale, Lorelei knew that, but she’d never dug into it. Instead, she accepted the protection of fiction for the gift that it was from the mother who had raised her.

“It’s okay. I know.”

Surprise lit the woman’s face. “You do?” she asked shakily.

Lorelei held out her hand, palm facing up. “You’re my mother, aren’t you?”

Though Annaliese trembled like a leaf, she clasped her hand, gripping it firmly, never looking away even when tears began to streak her cheeks. It was a wordless affirmation.

Lorelei started to cry, too.

“How long did you know? I didn’t think she told you.”

“She didn’t, but when you came to the museum, I had a gut feeling. The resemblance is hard to miss.”

“I’m sorry it’s taken me this long, but I was so scared…”

Remembering their brief online conversation, and that Annaliese had asked if the coastline was safe, Lorelei said, “You don’t have to explain if you don’t want to.” She wanted to spare her mother in whatever way she could. Shorewalkers like herself were conceived by violence. Undine had told her that once. “I know the merfolk did terrible things.”

“I was scared of you, too,” Annaliese admitted quietly. “I didn’t know what was nature, what was nurture, and with everything that happened, it was too much. I couldn’t cope.”

“I understand.” And she meant that. There was no resentment in her heart for that choice, even though it made her sad. “I had a great childhood, a great life. You placed me in very capable hands.”

“You’re very sweet to say so, Lorelei. Thank you. She was a remarkable woman, wasn’t she?”

The best she’d ever known. “How did you know Greta?”

“She was my mother. Your grandmother. Kruetz is my married name.”

It was Lorelei’s turn to be surprised. “W-what?”

There was a resemblance, yes, and for that the thought had crossed her mind yesterday at the museum, but it also seemed so improbable. Greta had been adamant that she’d no interest in romantic or recreational relationships. Never had and never would. It had come up when Lorelei began dating and asked for advice.

“Artificial insemination,” Annaliese explained, perhaps noting her confusion. “Anonymous donor. She never wanted a partner, which maybe you know, but she loved kids and wanted one of her own. First there was me. And then you, when I couldn’t raise you myself.”

“Did she know what I was?”

“I told her, but she never believed that part of the story, trauma affecting memories and all. Years went by, and when you never showed signs of being anything other than a normal kid, I began to think that maybe I was mistaken.” She spun her cup around. “My mother sent pictures and updates of you whenever I asked for them. We’d meet up sometimes when you were over a friend’s house for a weekend sleepover. More so when you were in college. Sometimes she asked if I wanted to meet you, but I wasn’t ready. And then she got sick, and I was still afraid. The closest I ever got to you after you were born was her funeral.”

Lorelei’s heart broke. She understood, but it hurt to hear that her mother had been so close, and yet so far. So afraid.

Pausing, Annaliese took tissues from her purse, handing one to her and keeping one for herself, tears flowing from them both. “I sat at the very back of the church. It was hard, grieving her from afar, but I couldn’t tell you who I was then. It wasn’t the right time or place for either of us, but a year passed, and I still never worked up the courage to reach out. Then I saw you in the news, first surviving that ship sinking, and not long after, in the mermaid articles that followed. As relieved and grateful as I was to read you were alive, all my old fears returned.”

Dabbing her eyes, Lorelei said, “I did struggle for a time, but I had a lot of help. What changed for you? With reaching out to me, I mean.”

“Reading about the research and your museum work helped me understand you in ways I couldn’t grasp before, but the virophage treatment was what put my mind at ease the most. I needed to know I would be safe, and once I had that assurance, I realized I’d regret it forever if I didn’t ever once try talking to you.”

“I’m glad you reached out,” Lorelei said, squeezing Annaliese’s hand lightly for emphasis. “And I look forward to getting to know you.”

They talked for hours.

Chapter Forty-Four

LORELEI