by Lori Avocato
“It was just a dream, honey.”
“Oh, no, Mommy. It was real.”
Bitsy came in the room and started cleaning the dishes and glasses from the snacks she’d served during the reading of the will. Her back stiffened as she heard our conversation, but she didn’t look at us.
“Emma-Kate, there was no man in our room last night.” I sounded much harsher than I wanted.
She fisted her little hands and planted them on her hips. She pulled back to look me directly in the eye. “Mommy, you thought I was sleeping, but I was awake. The man was there, asking for you to help him do something.” She lowered her voice into a whisper. “I think he was a ghost!”
I couldn’t do this. I could barely admit this to myself, let alone discuss it with my daughter—who was far calmer about the subject than I. “Pumpkin, I thought you wanted me to see the flowers Zeke helped you plant?” I lifted her off my lap and set her on the floor. “How about a snack outside? I think I smelled Bitsy’s famous peanut butter cookies baking earlier.”
She just stared at me with those huge blue eyes. My child was an old soul and not easily put off. After a long moment, while I tried to figure out what to say when I didn’t understand any of it, the bribe of Bitsy’s cookies and showing me what she’d accomplished outside did the trick. She didn’t push the subject.
I ran upstairs to change my clothes and promised to meet Emma-Kate outside.
~ * ~
Bitsy put out a blanket with a tray of cookies, plastic glasses and a carafe of milk on the lawn behind the house. Emma-Kate made a big showing of dipping her cookie into her milk while raising her pinkie in the air. My body relaxed muscle by muscle and soon the dream of last night and the stress of the day left my mind. The warmth of the setting Charleston May sun stroked my face while I enjoyed every minute of this time with my daughter. If possible, I wanted to remember this afternoon forever.
“Come on, ladies. Don’t stuff up on too many cookies. Dinner is in two hours,” Bitsy called from the doorway to the kitchen.
“Come on, my love, let’s wash up and relax before dinner. Is Sponge Bob on TV?”
We stood and started to clean our picnic items when Emma-Kate suddenly began waving. I turned to see who she was waving at and no one was there. I followed her gaze. My precious daughter was staring at the attic window high up on the house. The tray that held the cookies fell from my hands onto the lawn. The man from my dream stood in the window looking down at my daughter.
“See Mommy? Told you he was real. He’s right there. Can we invite him to dinner?”
I had to change the subject! “We need to get ready for dinner, pumpkin.”
I looked back up and he was gone. “See, sweetie, there’s no one there.”
I picked her up and carried her into the house before the strange man reappeared, my heart racing with each step.
3
“You’re not eating. I thought my fried chicken was your favorite?” Bitsy said.
“I don’t have much of an appetite right now, Bits.” I pushed my collards around on my plate with my fork. I looked her directly in the eye, hoping to see something that would let me know she knew anything about my dreams and what just happened with my daughter. Bitsy didn’t flinch, didn’t blink. Not a muscle moved. I was now convinced, more than ever, Bitsy knew something.
“Bitsy, there’s a man living in the attic.”
Bitsy and I turned and looked at Emma-Kate. “He also came and talked to Mommy last night. He needs her to help him do something.”
“Don’t talk with your mouth full.” I took a napkin and wiped the milk off her chin. “She has such an imagination, doesn’t she, Bits?”
Bitsy stood and began to gather the dirty dishes, never once looking at me.
“I asked Momma if we could invite him to dinner.”
“Baby girl, how about a nice bubble bath and then we can put in a DVD? What movie do you want to watch?”
“i-Carly!” Emma-Kate could barely contain her excitement.
I had packed enough videos to keep her entertained for a couple more days, but as soon as I could pack tomorrow, Emma-Kate and I were going home. I could work on what needed to be done for Daddy’s estate from my house and come back to the plantation on an as needed basis. There was no way I was spending another night in this house.
A cold breeze moved through my body and ruffled the napkins on the table, yet the windows were closed and the ceiling fan was set to low. I looked around the room, but everything else seemed to be in place.
A shiver of fear ran up my spine.
I couldn’t get out of here fast enough.
~ * ~
Emma-Kate barely made it through the first ten minutes of the show before she fell asleep. I turned off the DVD and picked her up in my arms. I put her in bed and covered her with the quilt before I got in beside her and snuggled close. I fought sleep. My body longed for it, but my mind raced at top speed, wondering if the dream would return tonight and trying to reassure myself there really was no man from another century in the attic window. Surely Emma-Kate was imagining things, and I was so exhausted handling my father’s estate, my mind was playing tricks, too.
Yet I couldn’t rationalize the fact they were the same tricks.
I let my lawyer’s clear, rational mind take over. There are no such things as ghosts. Not even in old plantation houses. Those are nothing but myths for tourists. I chanted this mantra several times in my head before I let sleep take me.
~ * ~
I ran barefoot in the dark. My white cotton nightrail whipped around my ankles, almost tripping me. The grass felt cool under my feet. I laughed, looking over my shoulder, knowing my love would catch me. I ran faster as I heard him approach, my laughter filling the night air.
Before I reached the barn door, I was swept up in my husband’s strong arms. My laughter caught in my throat at the sight of the feral glint in his rich brown eyes. Those eyes trapped me, drowned me in their depths. I didn’t want to be saved.
The horses’ soft knickers welcomed their master and mistress into their home.
With each step Samuel took, my heart beat a little faster, my breathing more labored. The pull in my lower body couldn’t be denied.
We went into an empty stall that had a blanket laid out on the ground. He lowered me to it, never letting go of me, nor I him. I held tightly to his neck, but Samuel pulled up to look at me directly.
“I love you, my lady. I always have and I always will” He ran his thumb over my forehead and down my cheek, tracing my face.
“Why so serious, my love?” I tried to pull him down for a kiss, but he wouldn’t move.
“Listen to me, Anna. No matter what happens, you and the children are my life.”
“You’re scaring me, Samuel.” Suddenly our time in the barn lost its magic.
He smiled and relaxed in my arms. “I’m sorry, love. It has been a long day and quite hot outside. I need my wife to relax me.”
He was my Samuel again and the moment that tightened my stomach in fear was gone. He pushed my gown above my hips as I undid the buttons on his breeches.
“I love you.”
And, I love you.”
It was enough for us.
~ * ~
Why on earth would I dream of these people—making love no less? The man was the one from my dream, but who was the woman with him? Obviously, his wife, but why would I dream of her, too? I didn’t know either of them.
I moved closer to Emma-Kate and saw she was definitely sleeping.
Quietly, I moved to the window seat. I’d always seemed to do my best thinking sitting there while looking out into the gardens in the backyard with the barn beyond. Zeke had turned off the backyard lights, but the full moon shone brightly making the area look a beautiful photograph. The night air was humid; it seemed to seep through the window panes and my hair felt damp against my neck. Yet hot as it was, a cold chill walked up my spine. Laughter, soft, yet distinct, came from the barn
.
“I love you.”
“And, I love you.”
4
My arm flapped up and down like a bird’s wing. I opened a heavy eyelid to see Emma-Kate holding my hand in both of hers, yanking my arm up and down.
“Come on, Mama, get up. Bitsy made shrimp and grits with biscuits.”
“You go ahead, sweet pea. Mama wants to wash up and brush my teeth.” I sat up in bed and gave her a stern look. “Did you brush your teeth this morning, missy?”
“Of course.” Emma-Kate giggled. “You know I hate those sugar bugs staying on my teeth the dentist told me about.”
I leaned forward and kissed her forehead and ran my fingers through her soft curls. “You go ahead, Emma-Kate. I’ll be down soon.”
She ran out the door, so excited to have Bitsy’s special breakfast.
“You save me some of those shrimp and grits now, you hear me?”
Her precious giggles reached my heart even as her feet pounded down the stairs.
Throwing myself back on the bed, I groaned. I had to get to the bottom of this. The dreams. What did it all mean? After breakfast, I would see what I could find doing an Internet search. Truthfully, I’d never really known the plantation’s total history. Only that it had been in the family forever—at least since the end of the American Revolution.
Who were these people in my dreams, playing such tricks on my subconscious? What would I do with the information if I found any? The lawyer in me tried to stay pragmatic. My father had only recently died and knowing how much his home meant to him, all this weirdness was probably just part of my grief process. Handling all the details of his will wasn’t helping my stress level. Surely that’s all this was. Stress from Daddy dying after such a struggle with colon cancer on the heels of my beyond acrimonious divorce. I needed to get all the business of Daddy’s will done and go away for a bit. Maybe take Emma-Kate to Disney World. Mickey Mouse and Minnie Mouse giving joy to my beautiful daughter was just the ticket to relieving my stress.
Bitsy decided to spend the day in Awendaw with her daughter and her family. She happily agreed to take Emma-Kate. She loved playing with the other children, and couldn’t be in safer hands.
So now I could be alone to do my sleuthing. Although I certainly hadn’t told Bitsy what I planned. I doubted she would have left me alone if I’d been honest about my endeavors.
I took my coffee to the dining room and put a placemat on the table before I set down my mug and laptop. There was something comforting about sitting at Daddy’s favorite table while trying to find out more about the house. Leaving wet mug rings would be a definite no-no, so I quickly found a coaster.
I pulled up a search engine and suddenly—nothing. What, exactly, was I looking for? A man from my dreams and his wife? I had no clue where to start.
Deep in thought, I didn’t hear the front door open, so I startled when I heard it slam shut as old, heavy oak doors often did.
“Sorry if I scared you, baby sister,” William stood in the doorway.
“It’s okay.” I took several deep breaths before I continued. “No surf boards to sell today?”
“I know yesterday was hard for you. Frankie didn’t help much, but we all know Frankie is, well...Frankie.” Sitting beside me, he went on, “I know you don’t like being in this house much, so I wanted to check on you.”
My sweet brother. The kindest person I knew. No hidden agendas with William. I hesitated, wondering how much I could tell him without making myself sound like a raving lunatic. William wasn’t only kind, he never judged, but these events of the past couple of nights were too bizarre by anyone’s standards.
“William, what do you know about this estate?”
He shrugged. “How do you mean? It’s been in the family since sometime after the American Revolution.”
“I know that, but do you know anything about our ancestors from that time period?”
He waited a beat, his brows furrowing into a frown. “Mags, what’s with the sudden interest in history?”
“Remember when we were little and I had strange dreams?”
“You always did have quite the vivid imagination.” He grinned. “We thought you’d become a fiction writer or some-such thing.”
“Yes, well…I’m having strange dreams again.”
“I...” He stopped and his face flushed. I don’t think I’ve ever seen my big brother embarrassed. Soon, he continued, “I’ve had dreams, too.”
“You have?” I sat up straighter in my seat. Could it be there were things William had never shared with any of us and I’d just opened a door for him to feel comfortable?
“Our father just died of cancer. He was in pain and there was nothing I could do about it,” he said quietly. “That’s bothered me since the day he started rapidly going downhill—when even the Morphine pump didn’t work.”
He held up a hand before I could speak. “Maybe if I’d made something more of myself instead of selling beach gear. Gone to medical school and…”
“And, what? Found a cure for cancer? Something scientists have been working on for decades?” I grabbed his hand and gave it a squeeze. “Daddy was happy you were happy. William, you don’t just sell ‘beach gear.’ You have the most successful water sports shops in the county. People all over the country have heard about your shops, and your online business is thriving. Daddy was proud of you.”
“I know, but still—”
A loud crash from upstairs brought me to my feet.
“Maggie, why are you so jumpy? It’s probably Zeke cleaning something somewhere.”
“Bitsy took Zeke and Emma-Kate to her family’s house in Awendaw.” I looked at the ceiling as though I could see through to the upstairs. “We’re all alone here.” Damn, I sounded like something out of a Gothic novel, even to myself. All that was needed was the fog rolling in and the wind whistling through the moors.
“It’s windy out, I’m sure it’s just a loose shutter or something.” He grabbed my hand. “Let’s go exploring.”
I pulled away and crossed my arms over my chest. “No. I don’t want to go exploring. We’re not children anymore.”
Hurt crossed his eyes and guilt no doubt crossed mine. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to snap. I think between my divorce and Daddy dying, it’s been too much on me at one time.” I left out the part about the dreams.
“Sweetie, I know you’ve had it rough. I really do.” William picked me up in a bear hug, my arms trapped to my sides, my feet dangling off the ground. “Come on, let’s explore the attic like we did when we were kids and see what treasures we can find.”
Great. Freakish dreams and attic crawling. William’s attempts at making me feel better were so sweet, I couldn’t say no. He really was the best big brother in the world.
“Okay,” I agreed. “But, only if you put me down. The blood flow to my arms is being cut off.” We both laughed as we made our way to the stairs.
We made our way to the attic and the anxious feeling returned to the pit of my stomach. Some memory trying to claw its way up from the depths of my mind, but I couldn’t quite reach it. It wasn’t a happy memory, or a sad one, but it seemed something had happened to me in the attic when I was a child. Suddenly I was sure of it. William and I used to play in the attic as kids. Francine was Miss Priss from an early age and didn’t like getting dusty and grimy in “some old attic full of junk.” Instead, she would play dress-up in Momma’s heels and pearls when Momma was out of the house.
“William, why did we stop playing in the attic?” I stopped before we got any closer.
He shrugged. “I don’t rightly remember. Maybe we started doing other things instead. School work, sports.” He shook his head. “I really don’t know, it was so long ago. I just remember we sure had a good time while we did play.”
“Think hard. Did something happen to me to make me stop coming up here? Like, did something spook me?”
He stood there for a moment, deep in thought. “Come to think of it, I do r
emember one day you made the announcement that you were too old to play in the attic and weren’t going to do it anymore and I shouldn’t ask you.” He furrowed his brow, remembering. “You were maybe six and I was ten. You crossed those arms over your chest, like you still do now, and stood straight as an arrow. You were quite stern and even at that age I knew there was no messing with you when you got like that.” A smile quirked at the corner of his mouth.
We continued walking toward the attic stairs and with each step, I wanted to scream and run away. Damn it, why couldn’t I remember?
We climbed the few stairs and William grabbed the door knob and flung open the door.
“Hello!” he yelled in-between bursts of laughter. “Any ghosts in here?” I playfully punched him in the arm.
“Not funny, William. So not funny.”
He had no idea just how not funny he was.
~ * ~
Against my will, I looked around the cluttered room. It had been decades since I’d been in here. The sun shone through the oval window in the opposite wall, dust motes in its beam. I doubted anyone ever came up here. Twenty years ago Momma had taken what she wanted after the divorce, before she moved to Boca Raton. Rather than gather the items herself, she’d given Zeke a list to come get her things for her. Heaven forbid she break a manicured fingernail rummaging through things in an attic.
I crossed the threshold after William, glad his back was to me so he couldn’t see the sweat that had formed on my upper lip. I quickly wiped at it with the back of my hand.
As attics go, this one was huge. Then again, this was a mansion. It spanned almost the entire second floor of the house. We’d often wondered if soldiers had used it as some type of sleeping quarters during the American Revolution or the Civil War.
Daddy used to say he was going to take a week off work and stay in this room as long as it took to catalogue everything and research the roots of things he didn’t even know were in here. Things left by relatives who’d lived here before us. He never did it, though. He’d always been too busy at work, never able to say no to clients and even take a week for himself.
