"I'd like that, if you don't mind."
"It's no trouble at all, dear. Excuse me."
Patsy got up from the couch, stepped around Joel, and left the room. She returned a couple minutes later with a massive Bible that looked at least a hundred years old.
"Is that it?" Katie asked.
"This is it," Patsy said. "I believe all the information you want is in here."
Patsy sat down on the sofa between Mike and Katie and opened the religious text. She thumbed through a few pages until she got to two that contained the dates of births, baptisms, marriages, and deaths going back more than a century.
Katie raced through the dates and hit gold almost immediately. The first Michael Hayes had been born on May 2, 1898, and had died on September 11, 1960. He had married Katherine Magnusson on September 18, 1917 – exactly forty-seven years to the day before Mike and Katie had raced to city hall.
"Are you all right, dear?" Patsy asked. "You look like you've seen a ghost."
"I think I have," Katie said. "Do you realize that Joel and all three Michaels in your family were born on May 2, that the two Michaels who have died did so on September 11, and that your son died on the same day in the same hospital that I was born?"
"I knew about the birthdays, of course, but not the rest," Patsy said. "That's quite a coincidence. In fact, it's rather astonishing."
"That's not all either. Your grandparents were married on a September 18. Mike and I were married on a September 18," Katie said. She paused a moment and looked at Patsy. "Do you remember when your son was supposed to be married?"
Patsy stared at Katie with solemn eyes.
"I believe it was the same day. I know he died right before he was supposed to wed. He and his Katie had planned to be married on a cruise to Mexico."
Katie got up from the couch and walked to a window that offered a view of the Strait. She stared at the water for a moment and then turned to face the others.
"There's one more thing," Katie said.
"What's that?" Patsy asked.
"There's some sort of connection between these dates and the time portal we went through. Ginny and I went into the House of Mirrors last September 11 and came out on May 2, 1964. All four of us entered the same portal on September 11, 1965, and came out on May 2 of this year."
"I see what you're getting at," Patsy said.
Katie looked at Mike and saw that he was trying to work out something in his mind.
"What are you thinking?" Katie asked.
"I just realized something," Mike said.
"What?"
"My grandpa was working on mirrors like the one we walked through just before he died. He said they were special. He said he was making them for family, but he didn't get specific."
Patsy closed her eyes.
"What is it, Patsy?" Katie asked.
"You said the four of you passed through a house of mirrors?"
"I did."
"Was this exhibit at the fair in Maple Valley?"
"It was," Katie said. "Why do you ask?"
Patsy smiled sadly.
"After my mother died, I went through several boxes of family belongings and found some papers my grandfather had left," Patsy said. "It seems he had crafted two large, oval mirrors for Michael and me. They were supposed to be given to us as gifts on our respective wedding days."
"I'm not sure I follow," Katie said.
"The first mirror was damaged and never repaired. My grandfather had intended to fix it. He died before he had the opportunity."
"What about the second mirror?" Mike asked.
Patsy looked at her brother.
"When Grandpa died, Mother sold most of his inventory to a man named Robert Sullivan. The second oval mirror – your mirror – was part of the sale. She did not know the mirror was supposed to be a gift."
"You don't mean?" Katie asked.
"That's exactly what I mean," Patsy said. "The Robert Sullivan who bought my grandfather's inventory was the Robert Sullivan who founded the Cedar River Country Fair. He was the man who created the House of Mirrors."
CHAPTER 83: GINNY
Seattle, Washington – Saturday, September 18, 2021
Ginny rested her arms on the railing of a hotel rooftop and soaked up the sound. The water was as stunning as ever, but it seemed different than the last time she'd seen it up close. Like the woman on the railing, it seemed older, mellower, and more reflective.
When she peered into the distance, she saw that nothing had changed in fifty-seven years. Vessels of all shapes and sizes plied the inland sea in every direction, just as others had done since the 1850s. A ferry pulling away from Pier 52 slogged its way toward Bainbridge Island.
When she looked down, however, she saw that everything had changed. Men in tuxes and women in dresses emerged from cars and walked briskly toward the ten-story hotel. They carried gifts and wishes for an unlikely couple that had just wed a second time.
Ginny intended to join them soon. She knew a maid of honor was supposed to meet, greet, and actively participate, not hide out on a rooftop and watch the world go by. But when the bride herself banished you to the tower and asked you to wait, you did as instructed.
She returned her eyes to the water and thought about a time that seemed as distant as it did immediate. She thought about the people she had met, the things she had done, and how she had willingly left the past for a future that had left her with more questions than answers. She wondered, as she had done nearly every day for four months, how it had all come to pass.
Katie, of course, had a ready answer with a catchy name. She said the sisters had succumbed to the Curse of the Woodcutter's Wife – not to a mean-spirited time portal that hurtled random strangers into the past but rather a curse that favored blue-eyed blondes and tragic dates.
She said the untimely death of Katherine Magnusson Hayes had unleashed forces that simply would not be denied. If the spirits of Michael and Katherine could not find lasting happiness in 1919, 1964, or 2001, they would find it in 2021 or beyond.
Katie had explained her theory in great detail upon returning from Port Townsend. She said that the dates and the mirror were mere props in a play that had lasted a century and might have lasted longer had she left Mike in 1964 and named her baby after his father.
Ginny didn't know whether she bought Katie's mumbo jumbo. It sounded too much like the plot for a bad made-for-TV movie. She freely admitted, however, that she didn't have a more plausible explanation for her four hundred ninety-seven days in Wonderland.
Ginny didn't plan to go looking for one either. She had decided early on that she would not dig for answers that could serve no useful purpose. She was content to know that the forces that had sent her to the past had allowed her to come back and apparently posed no threat to others.
Life for all of the Smiths had resumed a relatively normal course on May 20, when state and local officials abandoned any plans to charge the twins with a crime or sue them for damages. They could find no evidence that the girls had committed fraud or done anything but hurt their family and frustrate would-be rescuers.
When Joel and Grace offered to reimburse King County fifty thousand dollars, they won over cynics who originally saw the disappearances as some sort of twisted ruse to gain publicity and perhaps a book or movie deal. Only a tiny minority wanted to put the girls in jail or push the family to financial ruin.
The tabloid media were not as kind. They continued to hound the Smiths well into June but eventually moved onto other things. When it became clear that Katie had not had an alien's baby or married a Russian mole, reporters dropped the story like a proverbial bag of cement. Most concluded that the girls had gone into hiding to cover-up an unplanned pregnancy.
Mike, of course, faced a different kind of challenge. With no birth certificate, passport, or Social Security card, he was unable to prove he was a citizen of the United States – or any other country, for that matter. He got his break in August, when officials, convin
ced he was some sort of American John Doe, allowed him to apply for citizenship.
Ginny smiled as she thought of Mike and Katie. She knew that with Mike working at a grocery store and Katie attending college part-time that they would make it. He would manage a supermarket someday and she would become a chemist. They would beat the odds and create a happy life for themselves and their children.
Ginny also thought about her own situation. She, too, was on a predictable track. She would begin her freshman year at the university in one week, albeit as a world-weary twenty-year-old who would share a dorm room with a high-school classmate and not a twin sister.
She would also begin the school year without a man in her life, something that seemed scary and sobering but also refreshing. For two years she had dated only three guys: Cody Williamson, Steve Carrington, and James Green. It was time to put boys on the backburner – at least until the first dance – and devote more time to other interests.
Deciding that the busy bride had forgotten about her, Ginny turned away from the railing and started toward the exit. If Katie wanted to talk to her, she would have to do it in front of two hundred friends and relatives in the reception room.
Ginny didn't get halfway to the door, however, before the bride – wearing a long, lacy, pearly gown – made her return. Katherine Smith Hayes looked like a vision.
"Sorry I'm late," Katie said. "The aunts and uncles wouldn't leave me alone."
Ginny laughed.
"It's your wedding, Katie. You're public property," Ginny said. "Get used to it."
Katie beamed.
"What am I going to do with you?"
"You can start by giving me a hug. I need one."
The bride obliged.
"There," Katie said. "Do you feel better?"
Ginny nodded.
"So why did you want to talk to me?"
Katie put a hand on her sister's shoulder and led her back to the railing.
"I didn't want to talk to you. I wanted to give you something. I wanted to give you a gift that will make this day as special for you as it has been for me."
Ginny looked at her sister closely. She saw nothing in her hands or even anything on the rooftop that could pass for a gift.
"If you're planning to give me your bouquet, Katie, think again. Cindy has dibs."
Katie smiled sweetly.
"This is bigger, Gin. You deserve more than flowers."
Katie turned away from the railing and motioned with her hand to someone who stood just inside two tinted glass doors that led to the elevator. A few seconds later, the doors opened and two men stepped onto the rooftop.
Ginny did not recognize the younger one. Trim, handsome, and immaculately attired in a three-piece suit, he looked like a college-age Denzel Washington.
She did recognize the older one. Shorter, stockier, and handsome in a different way, he looked like a seventy-six-year-old version of the boy she had left at an induction station.
Ginny immediately turned to Katie, who smiled through a veil of tears that seemed as much a part of her fabric as her blond hair, blue eyes, and beautiful face.
"I found him in Thousand Oaks," Katie said. "Funny what you can find there."
Ginny mouthed a thank you to her twin as she began to fight back her own tears. When she was done with Katie, she turned to face James Green, stepped forward, and gave him a hug that was fifty-six years overdue.
"Hi, James," she said as she buried her face in his chest.
"Hi, Ginny," James said. "It's been a long time."
Ginny held him for a moment and let the memories flow as fast as the tears. Within seconds she found herself not on a sunlit rooftop in 2021 but rather a dark duplex in 1964. For the first time in months, she allowed herself a guilt-free excursion to a place and time that would forever be lodged in her mind.
When she finally pulled out of his embrace, Ginny took a long look at the only man she had ever truly loved. She could see obvious signs of age, of course – such as gray hair and wrinkles on his forehead – but she could also see evidence in the form of a warm smile and twinkling eyes that this man had had a very good life.
"You look good, James. You look happy."
"I am, Ginny. Being here makes me even happier."
Ginny grabbed both of his hands and then glanced to her right.
"Who's your friend?"
James retrieved his hands and put one on the shoulder of the younger man.
"Ginny, I'd like you to meet my grandson, Jason Green. Jason, this is Ginny Smith, a very dear friend."
Ginny and Jason shook hands and exchanged hellos.
"Jason is a sophomore at the university. When I told him I was flying to Seattle to see some lovely ladies, he insisted on coming."
"Cut it out, Grandpa," Jason said.
Ginny and Katie laughed.
"I told him all about you two," James said. "I told him the whole story. I wasn't sure he believed me at first, but he did. He saw you on the news, like everyone else. He told me there had to be an honorable explanation for your disappearance. He said you looked honest."
Ginny looked at Jason and saw a warm smile that was already beginning to grow on her.
"Thank you, Jason. Most people think we're fraud artists."
"Let them think that," Jason said. "People who matter know the truth."
"Thanks."
Ginny turned to James.
"How did you end up in Thousand Oaks?"
James grinned.
"I went there looking for you when I got back from 'Nam. I drove straight to California. I knew it was probably a goose chase, but I didn't care. I figured if you had made up the time-travel thing, I might be able to see you again. I wanted to find you."
Ginny sighed.
"You didn't though."
"No. I didn't," James said. "I found another girl instead and married her."
Ginny again reached for his hands.
"Did you bring your wife? I want to meet her."
James smiled sadly.
"I'm afraid that won't be possible. Dorothy passed away a couple years ago."
"I'm sorry to hear that."
"There's no need to be sorry. We had fifty wonderful years, not to mention five kids and fifteen grandkids. Jason's a twin in a family of eight, just like you and Katie."
Ginny smiled at the college sophomore.
"Well, there's nothing wrong with that," Ginny said. "Maybe we can talk about birth order and behavior a little later. I have several theories on the subject."
Jason laughed.
"I'd like that," he said.
James loosened his hold on Ginny's hands and let them drop.
"I think that's our cue to get in the buffet line," James said with a hearty laugh. "We'll see you downstairs."
Ginny gave him another firm hug.
"Count on it."
She watched James and Jason nod at the bride and then step toward the door. A few seconds later, they disappeared behind the tinted windows, leaving the sisters again to themselves.
"I can't believe you tracked him down," Ginny said. She looked at Katie with awe. "Thank you for doing that. That was so sweet. I owe you. I owe you big time."
Katie shook her head.
"No, Gin. I owe you. I've never made amends for what I did to you when we were stuck in the past. I forced you to make an impossible decision. I was incredibly stubborn and selfish, but you stayed with me anyway."
Ginny looked at her sister thoughtfully.
"I stayed because I love you. You're my twin, Katie. Going home alone was never an option. I would rather stop breathing than leave your side."
Katie gazed at her sister with glistening eyes.
"You're wrong about the rest too," Ginny said. "You may have been stubborn, but you weren't selfish. No way. You put your family first – your new family. You did the right thing."
Katie stepped forward and gave Ginny a long hug.
"Thanks, Gin. I love you."
When Katie
pulled way, she smiled at her sister warmly and then broke into a laugh.
"What's the matter?"
"I think we may want to visit the ladies' room," Katie said.
"Why? Do I look like a raccoon?"
"No. You look like the Lone Ranger."
"Oh, great! I still have to toast the bride," Ginny said. She wiped a spot of runaway mascara with a fingertip and then glared at her twin. "It's all your fault."
Katie laughed.
"Let's go," she said. "I can fix it."
"You can fix my eyes?" Ginny asked.
Katie nodded.
"I can fix your eyes," Katie said. She smiled. "The rest of you is another matter."
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
The thing I like most about finishing a book is jumping into the thank-yous. I enjoy giving credit where credit is due, particularly to those who volunteer hours of their time to help turn a jumble of nouns and verbs into a polished novel. I am deeply indebted to several such people, including Cheryl Heldt, Beth Pofahl, Christine Stinson, and Diana Zimmerman for reading the early drafts; Mary Heldt, Esther Johnson, Veena Gupta Lothe, and Becky Skelton for reading the later drafts; and Jon Johnson, Leslie Teske Mills, Craig Stoess, and Neal Wedum for providing subject expertise.
I am also grateful to Laura Wright LaRoche for producing the wonderful cover, Aaron Yost for bringing the editing process to a close, and many others for providing research assistance. They include library colleague Bobbi de Montigny and staff from the Library of Congress, Seattle Public Library, Washington Office of the Secretary of State, Washington State Historical Society, and Washington State Law Library. I offer my thanks to all.
The Mirror (Northwest Passage Book 5) Page 37
