Page 20 of A Siren Song for Christmas

He smiled, trying to hide the uncertainty he felt. He’d gotten so used to being alone. So used to the routine of the emporium, his apartment, the plants, and his customers. He felt uneasy embarking forth into the unknown Christmas markets.

But he had agreed.

And he was making a friend.

His throat muscles tightened. Malachi had not had a friend, other than Kelby and his plants, in years.

“When should we go? Would you be free tomorrow evening? After you close the store?” Mr Berry fired the questions at him.

“Tomorrow?” So soon. He didn’t know if he’d be emotionally ready. He felt like he’d need a few days to process and prepare himself mentally before venturing into the crowds. He hesitated, thinking that he’d suggest next week instead.

But as he looked into Mr Berry’s hopeful brown eyes, Malachi found himself saying, “That should suit me. I close the store at seven.”

“Excellent!” Mr Berry nodded so hard Malachi worried his head would fall off. “Excellent! Thank you!”

“There is no need to thank me.” Malachi paused. “I am looking forward to it too.”

Mr Berry somehow managed to smile even brighter.

Feeling a little overwhelmed with all these developments, Malachi reached into the tank and plucked the elothea seeds. He examined, packaged, and handed them to Mr Berry, who had already counted out the 110 bells.

“Tomorrow night will be fun!” Mr Berry said.

“I’m sure it will be.” Would it be very crowded? Loud? Overwhelming?

Mr Berry stared at him for several moments. “Well, goodbye. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yes. Tomorrow.”

The young man took a step back, then hesitated as if not wanting to leave. After several seconds, he turned and walked to the door, giving a little wave before he exited.

Malachi let out a breath. He’d fixed the mess he’d made the day before. Although, he felt that misunderstanding was partly Mr Berry’s fault. Malachi was certain he’d not been clear it was an invitation.

Then again, many social cues were subtle and easy to miss if you’d never properly learnt them. Malachi had not grown up in Anorra, and sirens in general tended to be more direct and explicit.

If you wanted someone to be your friend, you often announced you wished to spend time with them as friends. If they agreed, you’d become friends. If others no longer wanted to be friends with you, they openly avoided you.

They swam away. No subtle cues needed. Malachi knew that for a fact.

When Malachi had come to Anorra, he’d had much to learn. He’d spoken the language, but he’d needed to improve. And the social differences took a lot more time to understand. Probably because he spent so much time alone.

Amongst sirens, mating in particular was very direct. There were no subtle courtship rituals. In Anorra, he saw peoplebuying tokens, such as flowers or hand-painted cards, and gifting them in the hopes of catching a sweetheart’s eye.

Not that sirens didn’t give gifts to their mates. His hand went to the seashell hanging beneath his shirt.

But in courtship there was no feeling out your way to see if you liked each other. You sang your mate song. And when your mate heard it, they knew immediately. No courting or awkward questions.

Malachi was grateful he and Forathia had never had to deal with those sorts of romantic gestures and subtle courting rituals. He’d probably have made a mess of them or missed them entirely.

Malachi cleaned up the shop as closing time approached. He tried to ignore the nerves as he thought of the following day. He really wasn’t sure how he felt about going to the Christmas markets.

But surely it would be good. Because even if he wasn’t sure about the markets themselves, he thought that it would be nice to develop a friendship with Mr Berry.

He paused cleaning. He took a deep breath.

A friend.

Someone to talk to. Someone to sit with at night. Someone to share a meal or a cup of tea with. He thought of the second chair upstairs, which had remained empty since he’d moved in. Perhaps Mr Berry would sit up there with him after the store closed.