The Mirror (The Lost Bride Trilogy #2)

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Eleven

As she drew the dog to her, pressed her face to his neck, the phone beside her bed played INXS and “Baby Don’t Cry.”

Sonya just shook her head and held Yoda closer.

As she wept, her heart stuttering with pain inside her, the air chilled; the glass doors rattled.

Grief fed her.

Choking back a sob, Sonya struggled to fight her way through it. Should she call Trey at this miserable hour? She could run to Cleo for comfort.

And why? Why burden them in the middle of the night for what had been? For what she’d witnessed.

“No, no, I’m not doing that.”

Instead, she got up, and with the dog trailing her, went into the bathroom to splash cool water on her face.

“I was there.” Straightening, she looked at her own face in the mirror, saw the sorrow shadowing her eyes. “You needed me to be.”

In agreement, Clover answered with Marvin Gaye’s “Can I Get a Witness.”

“You can. You did. And I won’t forget. It’s all right, Yoda. We’re all right now.”

When he settled back in his bed, she settled in hers. And lay quiet.

She’d remember every detail, every detail of her father’s birth. She’d remember the strength and sweetness of the woman who’d only had minutes to be their mother. And in those minutes had shown them such love.

She’d remember the love she’d seen, even felt between the two people who’d created those lives. Brothers who, because of one woman’s dictates, never had a chance to be brothers.

She’d remember that tiny, squalling life had grown into a good man, a loving one who’d given her life.

“Thank you, Clover,” she murmured as she closed her eyes. “I wouldn’t exist without you. I wouldn’t be here. I promise you, I won’t forget.”

When sleep finally overtook her, she didn’t feel the presence watching over her, or the hand, slender, ringless, that lay gently on her cheek.

But she dreamed again, and again of the girl and the boy.

Now they stood in the sunlight, faces alive, so alive with love and laughter. He wore a flowered shirt, strings of beads around his neck.

She had flowers in her long blond hair, flowers in her hand, and a gold ring, two hearts entwined, on the third finger of her left hand.

Slowly, sweetly, they kissed under blue skies, in a field of wildflowers. They laughed into each other’s eyes, like two children with a secret.

“Love you forever, Clover.”

“Love you forever, Charlie, and one day more.”

There was music. Dusty Springfield sang “I Only Want to Be with You.”

The girl’s white dress billowed as she danced barefoot in the meadow.

In sleep, Sonya smiled.

In the morning, Sonya let Yoda and Pye out, fed them their breakfast, and freshened their water bowls. She had her first cup of coffee looking out at the woods. And was rewarded with a glimpse of a doe.

When she went downstairs to work out, it surprised her the cat followed. Thinking of Cleo’s comment about her arms, Sonya selected free weights.

While she curled, lifted, pressed, the servants’ bell rang. The cat walked toward the sound of it, then arched her back and hissed.

“I feel the same way.” Stretched out on the mat for chest presses, Sonya gave a hiss of her own. “And that’s all she gets from us. Hisses.”

After she finished, showered, dressed for the day, she tied back her still-wet hair. Downstairs, she made another cup of coffee and took it upstairs to Cleo.

Her friend sprawled over the bed with her mountain of pillows.

Sitting on the side of the bed, Sonya thought of their college days when Cleo had an early-for-Cleo class. And did now what she’d often done then.

She waved a hand over the coffee to send the scent closer, and said, “Cleo.”

Cleo’s tawny eyes blinked open.

“Is it morning? Is that coffee?”

“Earlier than your usual, but morning. And coffee to ease the pain.”

Cleo pushed herself to sitting, and as the cat leaped onto the bed, took the coffee in both hands. “Why are you bringing me coffee in bed earlier than my usual?”

“Did you hear the clock last night?”

“Um.” Cleo sipped coffee, closed her eyes. “No, at least I don’t think so. I just—” Her eyes popped open, and her hand shot out to grip Sonya’s. “Oh God, Sonya, did you walk? And I wasn’t there with you. I slept through it. I—”

“Not like that. Or I don’t think like that. I don’t remember hearing the clock either, or the piano, and I don’t think, I just don’t, that I left my room. I think the mirror came to me, and I went through it. I went through it, Cleo, and back to when Clover had my father and Collin. Collin first—I don’t know why I know that, I just do.”

To clear her head, Cleo took a deep gulp of coffee. “You saw your dad being born?”

“I saw it all. Let me tell you from the beginning.”

She related the dream that wasn’t a dream, careful to include every detail.

“Oh, Sonya.” Setting the coffee aside, Cleo wrapped around her. “I’m sorry, so sorry.”

“I came out of it sitting on the floor by my bed. Cleo, I don’t think I left the room. My bedroom, and the room where it all happened.”

“Maybe that’s why. It was the ballroom for Lisbeth, so that’s where you went. You’ve seen the others.”

“I’m not sure where I went. The first couple of times, I thought I was dreaming. Just dreaming. I think, after Marianne Poole, the third bride, I started accepting it was more.”

“Accepting could be why you’ve been more aware.”

“I still couldn’t do anything. Still couldn’t help, couldn’t stop it. When I tried… I think that’s when I ended up on the floor.

“It’s one thing to understand I can’t change death, and another to stand helpless and watch it happen. And to Clover.”

“I can’t imagine how hard and hurtful. She saw you, Sonya. Clover saw you, she spoke to you. She knew you were there. Bearing witness.”

“She confirmed that with ‘Can I Get a Witness.’” Sonya frowned now. “It wasn’t the Stones, though.”

“Baby, the late, great Marvin Gaye did it first. And isn’t that just like her? Sonya, I know it had to be brutal, but think of this. You saw your father’s birth. You witnessed the person who, along with your mama, brought you into the world coming into it. That’s a kind of miracle, and a powerful thing.”

“She nursed them. She was dying. Maybe she didn’t fully understand that, but she was exhausted and she was dying, but she wanted to feed them, hold them. And he, Charlie, he pinned these little cloth diapers on them, wrapped them up warm when they fell asleep, tucked them up together before he went down to get her some soup.

“She died while he was gone, I could see it. Dobbs came when he was gone.”

“Did you write down what Dobbs said?”

“No. I remember every word.”

“I’m going to.”

In her POUR YOUR ART OUT sleep shirt, Cleo rolled over to grab a pad, a pencil.

“Say them again.” Cleo wrote them down. “We’re documenting everything.”

“Yes, that’s next on my list.”

“You could’ve come to me, Son.”

“I nearly did. Nearly texted Trey. Then I didn’t see the point. More? I wasn’t going to give her another ounce of my grief and fear. Just hisses, right, Pye?”

“Hisses?”

“Pyewacket went down to the gym when I did this morning. And we hissed at the Gold Room bell. Yoda was right there when I came out of it last night, to comfort me, and she was down there this morning hissing at Dobbs.”

“We’ve got us a couple of damn good furry friends here.”

“We do. They’ve had their first-thing-in-the-morning outside time, and breakfast. I’m going to let them out, the post-breakfast thing, and fill my water bottle for work.”

“I’ll pull it together and let them back in. I wish I’d been with you.”

“I knew you were here, and that matters.”

She pushed off the bed, started to call the pets. And it struck her.

“I had another dream.”

“Oh God.”

“No, no, the opposite of awful. I nearly forgot. I saw them, Clover and Charlie. Their wedding day. Not here, not at the manor. I wonder if anyone knows when they moved in here. Anyway, it was so sweet, Cleo. They were dancing on the grass somewhere, and the sun was shining. They looked so young, so happy, so in love. The song he played for her during labor—‘I Only Want to Be with You.’ That’s the music I heard.”

It played again on the phone in Sonya’s pocket.

“She took you there.” Tears gathered in Cleo’s eyes. “She wanted you to have that, to see that, and feel it. The bright pushes away the dark.”

Believing it, Sonya herded cat and dog downstairs, where they both seemed happy to go out into the April sunshine. She filled her water bottle. She met Cleo on the stairs.

“Nothing but litter in the box.”

“She’s a very smart girl. You’re also a very smart girl, so you’re going to let Trey know what happened last night.”

“I’m going to text him now, let him know the basics, and that I’ll fill in details when I see him.”

Cleo smiled. “It’s good to have someone you understand and who understands you in your life, isn’t it?”

“It is. Then again, I’ve always had that with you. And since you’re in gym shorts, I assume you’re making good on your idea about working out.”

“I’m getting my own water bottle, then giving it a half hour. Twenty minutes with the damn weights, then a ten-minute yoga capper. My day started a little early, so why not?”

“You know, your arms are already happening.”

“That’s the yoga, but now I want more.”

Knowing if Cleo wanted more, she’d get it, Sonya walked up to the library.

Taylor Swift’s “Shake It Off” greeted her.

“Working on that, and getting there.”

She sent Trey a brief text, and by the time she’d booted up and started writing what she thought of as documentation, he texted back.

I get why you didn’t let me know when it happened, but I’m sorry you were alone when it did. Why don’t I pick up dinner, and you’ll tell me in more detail. Want pizza?

Yeah, she thought. He got her.

Because she heard her friend start up to the servants’ passage, she called out, “Cleo, Trey’s going to bring pizza tonight.”

“All about it.”

Pizza’s great, and I will tell you all. But I wasn’t alone. Clover was there. We’ll see you when you get here.

She wrote it all down, added it to the file she’d already started.

Because she hadn’t shaken it all off, she sent a quick thinking-of-you text to her mother, with added assurances all was well.

Another rapid response told her she was loved, she was missed.

When she opened her first email, she noted her Baby Mine clients wanted a digital ad and a trifold, coincidentally, to her mind, targeting twins.

With ideas already running through her mind, she answered, promising to have some concepts by the first part of the next week.

Anna Doyle came next, with an attachment. New products for the web page.

My energy level’s up!

Anna told her in the body of the email.

So I’ve been spending a lot of time in my studio. New pieces, descriptions, and pricing attached. I’m not sending all, as I’m doing some specifically for the event in May.

Also so glad you and Cleo can make dinner on Sunday. I’m hoping both of you have time, whenever, to meet up for lunch in the village. I’m reaching a point of all work and no play.

Before she answered, she downloaded the attachments.

“May be all work,” Sonya muttered, “but really excellent work.”

Beautiful pieces, perfectly photographed. I’ll have them up by this afternoon. As it happens, I’m in the village tomorrow to risk having my hair dealt with. I’ll bring a hat if it turns out wrong, and would love to meet you for lunch. I’ll ask Cleo if she can make it. We could both use a break, too.

How about one o’clock?

She sent, moved on to the next email, and the one after.

And Anna’s response popped up.

One’s great. Just tell me where! I need an infusion of women.

Smiling, Sonya glanced up as Cleo stopped at her door, flexed.

“Does it show?”

“Holy shit, you’re ripped!”

“Liar, but I’ll take it.”

“How about lunch in the village tomorrow with Anna? After my hair experiment. One?”

“I’m there. Where?”

“I’m going to let the pregnant woman decide.”

“I’m there, wherever. Going to switch to work mode.”

Cleo’s in. Your pick of venue.

Waterside. It’s the casual restaurant at the hotel. And I have a connection that’ll get us a good table. Girl lunch! Yippee.

Sonya sent a Yippee back.

Then, like Cleo, switched to work mode.

She didn’t break, even though Clover played “A Hard Day’s Night,” loudly, until Yoda whined and wiggled.

“Okay, sorry. You want to go out. And I got the hint, Clover, but when you’re rolling, you’re rolling.”

When she rose, Yoda ran to the top of the stairs, whined, wiggled, and actually danced in place.

“I’m coming.”

She saved her work, started out in time to see Pye streak past her and downstairs with Yoda chasing after. She paused when she saw Cleo coming down from the third floor.

“I’ll let them out,” Sonya told her. “Yoda’s a little desperate, and I need a Coke.”

“I want one myself. She must’ve known you were letting him out. One minute she’s on the windowsill looking out, the next she’s flying out of the studio.”

“Ears like a cat. It was rolling for me, so he waited longer than he should’ve. How about you?”

“I already peed, thanks.” Cleo opened the door for the pets. “Oh, you meant the work. It’s going so well, I’m going with you to Boston next month. I’ll be done, and not only will I serve as your assistant for the presentation, but I get to hang with Winter. And if my editor needs to meet with me, I can do that.”

“Cleo!” Sonya threw her arms around her friend and bounced. “This is everything. Feel my nerves about the presentation effectively cut in half.”

“Son, you could’ve asked me.”

“I wasn’t going to ask you to go to Boston and be my emotional support. Especially when you’re working on a major project.”

“Which will be done.” Lifting her arms, Cleo turned a self-congratulatory circle. “Then I’m taking a break—which I can afford to do, thanks to you—and using that time to work on painting, for my own wants and needs.”

“This is turning into a really good day. Mom’s going to be thrilled.”

“I texted her right before Pye ran out, and she is.”

Deciding she wanted more than a Coke, Cleo grabbed a yogurt.

“Do you want one?”

“No. I’m going for chips. And pretending that’s healthy by adding some grapes.”

“Take what I’d rather be eating back up. You can eat at your desk; I can’t at this stage of the work. I’ll let Pye and Yoda back in.”

Upstairs, and with the contract signed and sealed, she started on her new law firm client.

Slightly more formal, she thought, more urban than the Doyles’. She wouldn’t want to mimic their colors or look in any case.

She began to experiment with a color wheel. Selected three two-combination choices for the template.

As she worked, she heard the ball bounce downstairs, and smiled when Yoda deserted her.

So he’d be entertained while she worked.

Eventually, Clover played “Five O’Clock World.”

“Okay, okay, nearly ready to stop anyway. Take another look in the morning. And when a man’s bringing you pizza, you should spruce up a little.”

She went to her bedroom to do just that. She hadn’t intended to change her work clothes, but Molly had laid out a blue sweater and gray pants.

“I was just going to do some makeup, but okay. This is nicer.” When she came out, Cleo walked out of her own room.

“You changed.” Cleo pointed at her.

“You, too.”

“I was going to anyway, but Molly cut the time in half by laying out this very pretty shirt and these flattering pants. Good day’s work?”

“Yes. You?”

“Same. I say it’s glass-of-wine time, and we take it outside, drink it to the sounds of the sea.”

“Let’s do just that.”

Outside, the air blew cool and light, and the sky held a pale, tender blue. Daffodils blew their fluttery trumpets with the scent of hyacinths answering the call.

Spring flirted around the edges of everything.

As they walked to the seawall, Yoda trotted around sniffing at the greening grass, scouting out places to lift his leg and make his mark.

“It’s so clear.” Cleo pointed toward the bay, where like the sky, the water spread blue. “It’s like the village, the lighthouse, and the cliffs are etched in glass. I may set my easel out here sometime and paint from this perspective.”

“And sail in the bay in your mermaid boat on a summer Sunday.”

“Absolutely.” When the cat leaped onto the wall, sat as if taking stock of her empire, Cleo smiled and sipped. “Maybe I’ll take Pye sailing. I bet they make life jackets for cats.”

Sonya joined Pye on the wall, then looked back at the house. “I want to see that tree bloom. That’s my major spring goal.”

“I’ve got a four-season project in mind, painting it in every season. You should paint with me. We haven’t done that in forever.”

“Because my canvas work looks like a moderately talented high schooler’s beside yours.”

“Not true.” Cleo gave Sonya’s leg a light slap. “And we’d have fun. I’m going to have a lot of fun when I take my short sabbatical and paint when I want, whatever I want.”

“Are you thinking about giving up illustrating?”

Shaking her head, Cleo scooted up on the wall beside Sonya. “No. Not only does it pay for my shoe collection, but I like it too much. I’m in a position now to be pickier about the jobs I take, though, and space them out so I can do more fine art.

“There’s a shadow on your bedroom window,” she murmured.

“I see it. I think it’s Molly.” Testing, Sonya lifted a hand, waved.

The shadow waved back.

“If not Molly, at least a friendly.”

Yoda let out a yip and raced to the edge of the grass. Seconds later, Sonya heard the sounds of someone driving up the road.

She slid off the wall. “I’m betting it’s pizza time.”

“I can be ready for that.”

Not just Trey’s truck, Sonya noted, but Owen’s right behind it. “Looks like it’s pizza for four.”

Mookie leaped out first, ears flying as he and Yoda had their madly happy reunion. The eye-patched Jones strutted over.

“I ran into Owen, so got an extra pie.” Trey gestured as Owen got out of his truck carrying a six-pack. “He’s got the beer.”

“We started without you.” Sonya rose up for her own happy reunion. “It was so nice out, we drank our wine on the seawall.”

“Gonna snow tonight.”

Genuinely stunned, Sonya stared at Owen. “No! No more snow. Look, it couldn’t be more clear.”

“Temps drop with the sun,” Trey told her. “Then the clouds roll in.”

“Couple inches, tops.” Owen shrugged it off as the cat came over to ribbon around his legs. “Hitting mid-fifties tomorrow, so it won’t last.”

“But it’s almost May.”

“In Maine,” Trey pointed out.

As he spoke, a window in the Gold Room slashed open. What flew out was huge, black as midnight. Wings spread, their span was taller than a man and seemed to slice the sky.

The sun caught a glint of talons, beak, sharp as razors as it swept over the lawn.

“House. Now.” Trey gave Sonya a push toward the house as he stepped in front of her.

Even as he moved, what flew went to smoke.

“Sulfur,” Cleo murmured under the wild barking of the dogs. “I can smell it from here.”

“She went with a vulture. Biggest bastard I’ve ever seen,” Owen added.

“Vulture.” Since the glass remained in her hand, Cleo downed the last of her wine. “Aren’t those the ones that hang around till you’re dead?”

“They’re still birds of prey.”

“Ten-foot wingspan?” Trey asked him.

“Right around, yeah. Didn’t get it very far, though.”

“Far enough.” Sonya heaved out the breath that had clogged in her lungs. “She’s been mostly quiet all day, saving up for something like this, I guess. I bet it just burns her ass the four of us are going to enjoy some pizza.”

“So let’s go do that.” Cleo scooped up the cat and started for the house.

“Yeah, let’s do that,” Sonya agreed. “Just another evening at the manor.”

When they trooped in, Clover greeted them with “Peaceful Easy Feeling.”

“An optimist.” Trey carried the pizza boxes into the kitchen, where Cleo had already started the feeding routine for the animals.

Sonya poured more wine into her glass and Cleo’s before she reached for plates.

“I gave Owen the brief overview you gave me. Now spill the details.”

“I will. Let’s start on the pizza before it gets any colder, and I will. I also wrote it all down, so if it ever fades from my memory—as if—I can refresh it.”

“I never heard a thing,” Cleo said as they gathered around the table. “Slept right through it all.”

“I don’t think there was anything for you to hear, since it all happened in my room. Then and now.” She put a slice of pizza on her plate, then just let it sit.

“I had to have gone through the mirror again. But I didn’t go to it. It came to me.”

When she teared up in the telling, Clover played “Tragedy + Time.”

“She sure learned to laugh again,” Owen commented.

“I think she’s amazing.” Sonya swiped at a tear. “And seeing how much love she gave Collin and my father in the little bit of time she had, that’s going to stick with me forever.”

“Part of the point, I think.” Trey laid a hand on hers. “Eat some now.”

She nodded, picked up the slice. “And bearing witness. I think that’s the big guns here. Dobbs took her ring—slim, gold, interlocking hearts, just like in the painting.”

“And she said…” Cleo took the paper out of her pocket, read off the words.

As she did, windows shook.

“Oh, bite me, you hideous, heartless hag.”

Owen tapped his bottle to Cleo’s glass. “Points for the alliteration.” Then turned to Sonya. “It wasn’t like it was with you and me? Awake and aware going through?”

“No, like dreaming, then not. But like before, I could smell the candle wax, feel the heat from the fire, hear their voices. Like being there, but not.

“But when I finally went back to sleep, I did dream. I wasn’t there, like through the mirror, but it was absolutely clear. Their wedding, Clover and Charlie’s—she was wearing her wedding dress. It was just full of light and happy. She wanted me to have that, too. Now I do.”

“And today, quiet, you said.”

She nodded at Trey. “Yeah, until smoke vulture.”

“She rang the servants’ bell when I was downstairs working out. Pye hissed at her.”

“You work out?”

Cleo raised her eyebrows at Owen. “Mostly yoga, but I’m trying a new routine.”

“I’m figuring to stay Friday and Saturday nights, since you’ve got us hauling more stuff on Saturday. If you don’t want company down there, let me know when you plan to hit the gym.”

“It wouldn’t be before ten on Saturday, and Sunday.” She batted her eyelashes. “That’s a day of rest.”

“And dinner at your parents’. Cleo and I are looking forward to it.”

“I’m hoping it’s ham. Nobody makes ham like Corrine.” Owen flicked a glance at Cleo. “If you take care of dinner Friday, I’ll cook Saturday. Only fair.”

“You’ll cook?”

“Keep it simple after digging up tables and chairs. I can make mac and cheese.”

“Opening a box isn’t actual cooking—I have changed my stand on that,” Cleo added.

“He makes it from scratch,” Trey told her. “And it’s awesome.”

“Really? Well, in that case, consider the kitchen yours on Saturday.”

“Done. Sonya, I’m taking you up on your offer to leave some stuff upstairs. I’ll dump some in there tomorrow.”

“Good.” She rose to open the door for the pets as all four sat in front of it. “Stay out back. She never does anything out back. At least so far. More wine, Cleo?”

“No, thanks. I’m going up to do some sketching in a bit.”

“Beer?”

“I’m good,” Trey told her.

“One does it for me. I need to take off after this slice.”

“You could stay, Owen.”

“Can’t. Got work waiting. I just came for the pizza. Wouldn’t mind a Coke for the road.”

“Would the work involve my boat?”

“Might, later. Depending. I’m building a doghouse.”

“Yoda’s doghouse!” Sonya hurried back to the table, threw her arms around his neck from behind. “Is it wonderful?”

“Not yet.”

“Can you take a picture? Can I see a picture?”

“No.”

“He’ll be firm on that,” Trey warned her.

“Couple of weeks, and you’ll see it. You don’t like it, remember it’s your design.”

“I’m going to love it, and so’s Yoda.”

“Witnessed.” He pointed to Trey, to Cleo. “I’m going to take off.”

Sonya got his Coke, hugged him again.

“I’ll walk out with you. I’ve got some things in the truck. To leave upstairs.”

Once out of earshot, Owen looked over. “Look, man, if you’re worried, I can shuffle things around and stay tonight.”

“No, I got it. And hell, Owen, most of the time, they’ve got it.”

When they went outside, Owen walked out far enough to look up at the Gold Room. “It’s the bird thing.”

“The bird thing. Sonya’s had it happen before, but she’d have said if the damn thing was that big. And those talons? They looked real enough. Didn’t last, but while they did…”

“ Didn’t last is key. And we can worry about it lasting longer.” He started back to his truck. “But I don’t see there’s anything we can do about it.”

He opened the door so Jones hopped in.

Not yet, Trey thought as his friend drove away. But there would come a time, had to come a time, when they did more than react, more than play defense.

He heard a window open in the turret above, the library window, and looked up.

Clover, blond hair shining against the twilight, leaned out.

He stopped in his tracks, started to speak.

But she only blew him a kiss, and was gone.