Antique Mirror

by D. F. Jones

  Antique Mirror

  A short

  By

  D. F. Jones

  Copyright 2015 D.F. Jones, all rights reserved.

  Notes:

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form, including, but not limited to, any electronic forms, and information or storage systems without the explicit written permission of the author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is completely coincidental.

  Dedication

  To my mother, Earlene

  Rockvale, Tennessee 2015

  “Maybe this wasn't a great deal, after all,” Victoria said, talking to herself as she navigated her silver Jeep down the narrow driveway that was in need of serious attention. The driveway seemed to go on forever until the property finally opened up to a meadow; there it was—the cozy cabin in the woods.

  Victoria sucked in a deep breath as she looked around the small farm. Wild daisies were scattered throughout the property and a white picket fence enclosed the small yard. A trellis of roses climbed both rock fireplaces on either end of the cabin. There was a covered front porch with stained glass windows over the door. Tori noticed a small barn with a red, tin roof, and a split-rail fence that ran along the perimeter of the property.

  Oh, this was too good to be true. Victoria stepped out of her Jeep and put on her professional smile; it was show time.

  At twenty-eight, Victoria Frost was a successful artist in Nashville with her naturalist representations of landscapes and abstract still lifes. Tori’s skillful painting technique created an illusion of texture with bold colors. She had sold nearly all of her big pieces at the Heart and Soul Gala for Vanderbilt Children’s Hospital.

  Many local art dealers around the Nashville area had indicated to Max Dupres, Tori’s agent, that they would be willing to host fundraisers and galas if she had her very own studio and gallery. An art barn would be ideal to rent out for a variety of events while displaying her art for sale.

  Tori had been dreaming of a place like this to work, hike and be at one with nature. Hell, she might even buy a dog.

  The Realtor nearly crushed Tori’s fingers with his handshake. “Victoria Frost, I’m Andy Crenshaw, Crenshaw Realty. So glad you found it. There was another couple who just left here, and they loved the place.”

  Oh, please, not that old sales ploy. “My friends call me Tori, and if someone else is interested, I’ll go. There’s another property in Leaper’s Fork I’m looking at this afternoon.” Tori turned to leave. Her inner diva was doing a fist pump.

  Andy stepped around in front of her and hastily replied, “Ah, now Tori, surely you’ll take a look at the property while you’re here. The couple was interested, but I don't think they’ll qualify for the loan.”

  Tori turned and entered the cabin. She stood in the foyer for a few minutes to get a feel for the place. There was a gorgeous antique chandelier hanging overhead and two huge rooms flanked either side of the foyer. Each room had a rock fireplace and oak mantle. The corners of the mantles had been carved with an ornate design of vines and small flowers.

  A beautiful antique mirror with a dark walnut frame hung over the fireplace in the room to the right, and she could picture her bedroom in there. Tori mentally placed her bed in the corner and a chaise next to the fireplace. There was a double window that offered a view to the front of the property and a window on the other side, giving her a view of the back of the farm.

  The cabin had superb trim work and also had recessed lighting, a feature Tori loved. The main living area had cedar bookshelves. Tori was glad the cabin was all on one floor because she hated climbing stairs. The current homeowners had built a new addition to the cabin that held a sitting room and a brand new kitchen with stainless steel appliances and black granite countertops. This place was a steal at $160k.

  “I’m interested, but I need a PDF sent to my email with a house inspection. I’ll offer $145k in cash if the house is sound. What about the barn? May I see it?” Tori looked at the Realtor’s eyes and knew he was salivating for a sale.

  “The barn was renovated for horses. It has electricity, running water, and a bathroom. Do you ride?” Andy smiled at Tori.

  The barn sealed the deal. The opening in the back of the barn overlooked a hollow and a pond. She could hire a contractor to turn the barn into her studio if the seller took her offer. “Well, my offer stands, Andy.”

  “Miss Frost, I’ll present your offer to the homeowners, but I think you may have a deal.”

  ***

  Two weeks later, Tori had moved all of her belongings into the cabin. She also adopted a full-grown black Labrador she named Jett because her mom had been a huge fan of Joan Jett. Tori had adopted Jett to stave off her loneliness because she missed her parents so much. They had died nearly five years ago in a massive flood that had hit Nashville. Terry and Sarah were in their car on the interstate when the flash flood had swept them away into a steep ravine. Tori still couldn’t believe they were gone. Her parents had left her well-off, but that was her rainy day money. It was her insurance policy in case her art didn’t work out.

  Tori’s cell rang, startling her. She wiped the tears from her eyes as she looked at her reflection in the antique mirror. “Yello. Tori Frost, speaking.”

  Max, who was also a good friend, was on the line. He said excitedly, “Tori, darling, your smaller pieces have sold for a small fortune. You have a gift, girl, and now New York has noticed. The Columbus Art Gallery wants you to do a show. This could be it, beloved.” It was nice to have Max looking out for her.

  “Maxey, darling, I just moved. It’ll be at least two months before my studio is ready. I’ve set up a makeshift studio in my breezeway. Please see if they will book me for next summer, maybe late July.” Tori walked over and sat down on the plush chaise that reminded her of a favorite teddy bear she had, growing up. It was dark brown and very soft. “And hey, when are you coming to see my new place?”

  Max sighed and then replied, “Now, don’t get your panties in a twist. I’m planning to drive out Halloween and spend the night. We’ll tell ghost stories and drink merlot—and lots of it.”

  “I can’t wait to see you. You know I love you more than my liver.” She giggled and then glanced up at the antique mirror hanging over the fireplace in her bedroom. Tori rubbed her eyes and blinked several times. A man was staring down at her from the other side of the mirror. Jett nudged her hand, and she briefly looked down at her dog. When she looked back up at the mirror, the man was gone.

  “Tori, Tori, are you still there? I’m talking to you. Hello?” Maxey sounded hysterical.

  “Maxey? Do you believe in ghosts?” Tori’s tongue was so dry it stuck to the roof of her mouth and the room became quite chilly. She grabbed the quilt off the back of the chaise and draped it around her shoulders.

  Tori heard the panic in Max’s voice. “What the hell is going on, Tori? You’re scaring the crap out of me.”

  Tori shivered as she stared at the mirror. “I guess I’m going batshit crazy because I swear a well-built, handsome man was just looking at me from the other side of my mirror. I need a dirty martini, extra dirty.”

  “Handsome man? Oh now, that’s right down my alley, ghost or not. Share, please. What did he look like?”

  Tori walked over to the mantle to get a better look at the mirror. Specks of silver were missing from the glass, but it only added to the mirror’s charm. “He’s gone. That’s so weird. I’ve had a glimpse of a shadow once or twice walking by the mirror in my bedroom, but this time, a man was staring at me. He looked to be around my age
with silky, golden hair, and I think his eyes were hazel, maybe a light brown. No idea how tall, but my god, Maxey, he had a red and black checkered flannel on like the Brawny guy. Gorgeous. I definitely need a man; it’s been way too long and now, apparently, I see things.”

  Tori heard a deep laugh resonating from within the looking glass. “Holy shit, Max, now I’m hearing things. I think I just heard him laugh. Maxey, come out tonight, please. I need a drink.” Tori turned and swiftly made her way into the kitchen, laid her phone down and clicked on the speaker. She grabbed her martini shaker from the freezer and mixed a rather strong drink. “Do you think I’m losing my mind out here in the sticks?”

  “No, but I do think you’re overworked and very tired from the move. Sometimes our minds can play tricks on us. Honey, I wish I could come out tonight, but I can’t. I have plans to go to Dirk’s soiree. I love you, darling, but I can’t miss it. Besides, I work for other artists, not just you. Although, you are my favorite chicken.”

  Tori took a sip of her cocktail, picked up her phone and walked back into her bedroom. “And you’re my Tennessee lamb. It was probably my imagination playing tricks on me anyway, with this cabin being so old and all.”

  Max said, “Got to go, precious. Ta-ta, pookie!”

  “Have fun tonight, Maxey.” Tori pushed the end button on her cell and laid her phone on the table next to the chaise. She looked up at the mirror. Did she really see and hear a man in her antique mirror? Or had she finally snapped?

  After her second martini, Tori relaxed and felt a pretty good buzz coming on. Jett climbed on the chaise with her, and she began rubbing his ears. “You are no guard dog.” She took another sip, and then she heard laughter again.

  Tori knew she should be scared out of her wits, but she was intoxicated enough to be brave. Tori bellowed out into the room, “Okay, Mr. Hottie, or whomever the hell you are. I hear you, and I’ve seen you.” She shook her fist at the mirror. “Show yourself, because I’ve paid too much money for this place to pack it in and leave.” Tori didn’t expect a reply. She had been used talking to herself for a long time.

  The good-looking man appeared back in the mirror and looked down at her with a smirk. Aw, hell. A tingling sensation shot down her spine, and she smiled in spite of herself. The ghost was effing hot, and she wondered what it would be like to touch those incredibly sexy lips. Hell, forget just touching—she wanted to kiss them.

  Tori watched as the specter placed his hand on the mirror and a room materialized behind him. The room had a rustic farmhouse kind of charm, with a plain kitchen table and four chairs. Behind the table, in the corner, she could see a beautifully carved headboard with several brightly patterned quilts thrown across the bed. The lighted gas lanterns cast the room with a soft, golden glow. But it was the man who took Tori’s full attention. He was ruggedly handsome, with broad shoulders and narrow hips.

  The ghost’s voice was deep. “You really like to hear yourself yap, don’t you?” The man continued to peer down at her with a smile curving his lips.

  Tori’s mouth dropped open for about two seconds, and then she drained the rest of her martini. “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, are you a ghost?”

  “Ma’am, I mean no disrespect, but it’s probably not a good idea to use the Lord’s name like that, especially when you have been partaking.” He chuckled, and Tori melted against Jett.

  Why couldn’t he be a real man and not some apparition? That’s just not fair. And he talked funny—like who would say “partaking” and “ma’am.”

  Tori said, “Who are you and why are you in my mirror?” Jett hopped down from the chaise and ran out into the kitchen and through the doggie door to the backyard.

  The mirror man laughed and said, “It’s my mirror, not yours.”

  Tori should have been running and screaming out her front door, but she was drawn to the mirror as the man continued to stare at her so intensely. She walked up to the mirror and reached up to place her hand on the looking glass. The mirror became fluid, and the man’s hand reached through it to hold Tori’s hand. Instantly, she was pulled into the other side—into a different world. Tori stood right in front of the mirror man and gulped.

  “No, I’m not a ghost. I’m cursed.” His eyes locked onto hers, and she inhaled his scent—cloves and cinnamon.

  Tori felt an incredible sexual attraction to this man. She reached up and touched the side of his face. “You’re real?” she said in wide-eyed shock.

  The cursed man stood only inches from her, so close she could feel the warmth of his breath. He said, “You are magnificent.”

  Whoa Nelly! Butterflies shot from her belly to her nether regions. “Okay, I know I’m probably having a hallucination brought on by being tired, and very strong vodka. I’m going to wake up any minute, and you’re going to disappear. Do you have a name or are you nameless until your curse is lifted?”

  He laughed—a wonderful, hearty laugh—and replied, “My name is Jonathan Rogers.” Jonathan placed a kiss on the back of Tori’s hand and looked up at her. His expression darkened and then he said, “Victoria, I have cursed you now, too.”

  Tori stumbled backward and tripped over a stool, falling hard on the wooden floor. Jonathan bent down to help her up, and she jerked away from him. “What the hell are you talking about? Why would I be cursed?”

  Jonathan motioned toward the table and chairs and said, “Please, sit down.” He gazed into Tori’s eyes with a look that struck a familiar chord with her; it was loneliness.

  Jonathan said, “I would like to tell you my life story and how I ended up in this cursed mirror.” Tori blinked a couple of times and then nodded yes. He continued, “In 1915, my life was just beginning. I owned a thousand-acre farm. I had a hundred head of cattle and had just built this cabin. I was in love with a woman who loved me back, and we were to be married.” Jonathan walked over to the window and stared outside. “Her name was Mae Morgan, and her father was the president of the local bank. He had arranged for his only daughter to marry one of his business partners, and I got in the way.”

  Tori interrupted him and asked, “Where was Mae’s mother?”

  Jonathan returned to sit at the table with Tori. “Mae’s mother died when she was very young. Mae only had her father and me.”

  Jonathan's voice sounded rough around the edges. “Mae stood up to her father and refused to marry his business partner, Dale Bailey. Dale invested heavily in future business development projects with Mr. Morgan. Mae’s father was using her as collateral. Mr. Morgan told Mae he’d rather see her dead than married to me. Mr. Morgan telephoned Melvin after an argument with Mae and arranged for Melvin and Mae to be married the next day. That’s when Mae decided to run away, to me.”

  Jonathan looked down at his hands, where they were resting on the table, and then he looked back up at Tori. “Mae left home with only her mother’s mirror, the one that’s now hanging over the mantle, and the clothes on her back.” He walked to the mantle and ran his fingers along the wooden frame. “Mae knocked on my door right before midnight, terribly shaken and scared for her life.” Jonathan walked over into the little kitchen and grabbed a dipper out of a pail and took a drink of water. He said, “Would you like some water?”

  With an uplifted brow, Tori said, “Any chance you have anything stronger?”

  Jonathan opened a cupboard and pulled out a jug as she had only seen in reruns of The Beverly Hillbillies, and poured her a cup. Tori took it and greedily drank from the cup. It was moonshine, and it was strong. Tori coughed several times but felt more at ease once the alcohol hit her bloodstream.

  Tori said, “Okay, you can continue now—no one’s ever going to believe me.” She wasn’t convinced that Jonathan or his story was real. She was probably passed out on her bedroom floor and would wake up in the morning with a hell of a hangover.

  Jonathan poured himself a cup of the moonshine and sat back down at the table. He took a small sip and said, “Mae had left her father a note saying she was marr
ying me. I found out later he jumped into his 1914 Chevrolet Baby Grand and drove to the witches coven located on the outskirts of town and paid for a curse. He’d rather his daughter be dead than disgraced by his inner social circle.”

  Jonathan didn’t talk for several minutes. Tori sensed he was angry and kept her mouth shut. He began to pace back and forth across the room. “My neighbor and good friend was a pastor. I had no intention of disgracing Mae by allowing her to spend the night with me. We went to his house, and he married us. By the time we returned to the cabin, dawn was approaching. I swept her into my arms and carried her over the threshold. I laid her down on our bed and made love to my wife.”

  Jonathan stared into the mirror and then turned back to face Tori. “I didn’t realize Jasmine, the youngest of the witches, was watching us from outside the window. She could see us from the reflection of this mirror, which gave her the idea for the incantation.”

  Jonathan's eyes glazed over as he began to recite the curse. “As the happy couple consummates their wedding bed, the wife will die in ecstasy, and her groom will live a mirrored destiny until a new love opens a thread and pulls him back to reality.”

  Jonathan sat down in the rocking chair next to the fireplace. “After we made love, I helplessly watched Mae die in my arms, and the witch burst through my door. Jasmine told me I would meet a new love, and that love would set me free of the mirrored life. She said Mae’s father had paid for the curse that took Mae’s life and left me cursed to live here. Jasmine stood staring at me, and I could feel her desire, and it scared me. I thought she was going to kiss me, when she spun around, instead, and disappeared right in front of my eyes.”

  With sadness, Jonathan said, “I’m so sorry, Victoria. I watched you move into my cabin and was so drawn to you. I’ve never wanted to reveal myself to anyone before you. You are the one to set me free. But as much as I was drawn to you, I still knew better. If you touched the mirror, and then I touched your hand, you would cross over to me.”