I found a pencil with a book lying open on the island next to it. I leaned over to see what it was. An underlined quote instantly jumped out at me off the page: “I wish you to know that you have been the last dream of my soul.”
An unexpected shiver ran down my spine. I’d never read A Tale of Two Cities, but I couldn’t help but believe its placement here and on that page was deliberate.
As much as I would have loved to assume it was Dan who left the message, it wasn’t likely. He wasn’t big into the classics. Or reading. I shot him a text anyway.
Me: Hey, sweetie, I’m sorry to bug you at work, I just had a quick question. Were you reading A Tale of Two Cities?
I waited a few minutes for his response, and when it didn’t come right away, I set to brewing my coffee and pulling together breakfast. I rechecked my phone ten minutes later to find he had replied.
Dan: No, I don’t think I’ve read it since college. Why?
Me: It was out on the kitchen island when I got up today.
Dan: I didn’t even know we had a copy of it in the house. Sorry.
Exactly what I thought. But if not him, then who? How?
Me: That’s OK. I love you, will you call later?
Dan: I’ll try to, but I’m swamped, and I can already tell you I’m probably going to be stuck here the next few days.
This was crazy. Books didn’t just appear out of nowhere. They didn’t just move on their own. Neither did notes. Or really, any of the other random objects I had noticed in different places than where I had left them.
The jewelry, my phone, the TV remote control, my wallet. All things I’d chalked up to either Dan or me moving without realizing it. But the more I thought about it, the less likely it seemed. I found myself searching for an explanation. Something rational, logical. I came up empty. It was getting weird, and I was frustrated there were no answers to be found. I didn’t mind mysteries, but I was notoriously impatient for answers to them.
My conversation with Josie came roaring back.
Ghost.
She was a lot more open-minded about supernatural, paranormal, and inexplicable things than I was, but she didn’t really believe this was a ghost, right?
I thought back to how strange I’d been feeling since moving into the house. The feeling of being watched, the scent that would come and go, the feeling of a breath or touch on my skin when I was alone, hearing whispered words I couldn’t quite make out, objects being moved.
I could totally see how a more superstitious person would believe it was a ghost. I just couldn’t believe it. I loved a good ghost story as much as the next girl, but this didn’t feel the way I pictured a haunting would. Plus, if the house were haunted, wouldn’t Dan be experiencing things too when he was around?
So I was back at page one. Back to searching for rational ideas or explanations for what was becoming increasingly illogical and inexplicable.
Nine
“How are you enjoying island life, Ros?” Marie asked as we sat at her kitchen island drinking tea while I watched her knead dough for dinner rolls.
“I really like it here so far. I’ve just begun to explore and I haven’t met many people, but the ones I have are all so welcoming and kind.”
“That’s good to hear. If you’re interested, we hold a book club here at the inn once a month. There’s a pretty good mix of ages, and we aren’t too serious about the actual reading. We mostly use it as an excuse to get together and drink wine.”
“Oh, I’d love that! I used to do one with my friends back home, and I miss it. What kind of books do you guys read?” I settled onto one of the stools at the island.
“Oh, a little bit of everything.” She continued to knead at the dough, pushing and pulling in a hypnotic rhythm. I shook my head to break the trance I found myself in, and decided to ask her what had been on my mind.
“Marie, I remember you saying you knew a lot about the history here. I would love to know more if you have the time.”
“Of course, I have the time, let me just get these into the oven,” she said as she finished with the dough and slid the pans into the oven. She wiped her hands off on her apron as she closed the door with her hip. “Okay, so I wouldn’t say that I’m an expert or anything, but I’ve spent most of my life here. So where did you want me to begin? Or did you have something specific you wanted to know about?”
Yes, yes, I do have something specific I want to know about.
“How about the beginning? Some general history with anything interesting thrown into the mix? I’d love to know whatever you know.”
Marie’s face radiated with her excitement to share one of her passions as she sat down with a fresh mug of tea. “Orcas Island is the largest of the San Juan Islands. While there were obviously natives living here long before any Europeans made it over, settlement on the island began in the mid to late 1800s,” she began.
Before I knew it, an hour had passed while she told me the basic history of the island along with some fun and interesting stories thrown into the mix. My time with her today was coming to a close, and there was no better time to throw out the questions heavy on my mind.
“I’m kind of curious, and I know this might be a silly question, but are there any good ghost stories?” I chewed on my thumbnail, a nervous habit I usually managed to contain.
“There are most definitely ghost stories. I don’t know all of them, but there are a few well-known ones.”
“Which places?”
“The Orcas Hotel is well known to be haunted by the former innkeeper.” She paused for a moment to take the rolls out and slide some pies into the oven. “Rosario Resort has some colorful stories. The wife of one of the former owners is said to be kicking around the place. She was known to be quite the party girl and people claim they can hear her heels clicking down the halls, or that they see her in her red nightgown atop her beloved Harley. Some even said they’ve heard a bed squeaking and moaning come from an unoccupied room.”
“What have you experienced living here?” I asked, hoping she had some great firsthand tales to share.
“I haven’t experienced anything out of the ordinary, but there’s just too many stories floating around for me to think there isn’t some truth to them. Have you seen anything interesting since arriving here?”
I knew I wasn’t going to get a better opening, and she seemed to be open-minded, so I just hoped I didn’t sound completely foolish.
“I’m going to preface this by saying I don’t believe in ghosts. I love ghost stories, but I’ve always considered them complete fiction. Lately, I’ve been experiencing weird things in my house.”
“What kind of things?” Marie stopped wiping down the countertop and looked at me curiously. The beginning prickles of heat started at my neck and rose to my cheeks, my body making my embarrassment obvious.
“It started with feeling like I was being watched, accompanied by a masculine scent. Then it was feeling like I was being touched when I was completely alone. Most recently things are moving and showing up in places they have no business being.”
“As a non-believer, what do you think is going on?”
“I’ve tried coming up with rational, logical explanations for all of this, but I’m at a loss. My best friend joked about it being a ghost, and while I brushed her off initially, I can’t get the idea out of my head now,” I finished, laughing self-consciously, feeling foolish and vulnerable at my honesty.
“You live on the land the Breckenridge family owned ages ago. I haven’t heard of anything happening there as far as weird occurrences or hauntings go, but that doesn’t mean it’s impossible. The family’s story is a sad one, too.”
“What happened?” I asked, intrigued by the potential answers Marie held.
“I don’t know a lot. The Breckenridge family was this very wealthy family who lived mostly on the mainland, based in San Francisco and Seattle. If I remember correctly, they dabbled in quite a few different businesses. The youngest son in the fam
ily was quite a prodigy, from what people say. He was also quite handsome and sought after. It sounds so silly and antiquated now, doesn’t it?”
“I’d agree, though if that were true, shows like The Bachelor and matchmakers for zillionaires wouldn’t be so popular, would they?” I joked back.
“Good point. Anyway, the son had bought the land where you live now with the intention of building a home for his fiancée. I’m not sure why he chose Orcas Island, especially since it wasn’t a widely inhabited place at that time.” Marie shrugged as though that were answer enough.
“Did he ever build the house?”
“No, he died in a steamer crash on his way from San Francisco to Seattle. And his beloved fiancée? She married just a few months after his death.”
“That’s so sad. How old was he?”
“I don’t remember, somewhere in his late twenties, I think.”
“When did he die?” I asked, enraptured by his story.
“In the early 1900s.”
“Oh, wow. So, whatever happened to the land? Did the family ever build on it or did it just sit vacant?”
“They never did build on it. It was eventually sold, and a home was built on the lot. That home fell into disrepair and was torn down about a decade before the house you’re now living in was built.”
“This is all so interesting. It doesn’t sound like I’m being haunted, based on what you just told me.” My stomach tumbled in a weird way, making me slightly nauseated. I couldn’t tell if it was from relief or disappointment.
“I wouldn’t immediately say it is haunted, but I wouldn’t rule out the possibility either. I guess that could be said for every chunk of land here, though,” she finished, laughing to herself.
Marie had given me so much to think about and consider. I wanted to know more about this family, more about this man who’d died so tragically. I looked down at my phone and saw I had missed a call from Dan before realizing I had spent well over half my day with Marie.
“I just noticed the time! I’m so sorry to have taken up so much of your day.”
“It’s all right. It was nice having someone here to spend the day with and talk to. Steven is in and out of here so much, and we don’t really get the chance for any quality time until late into the evening. Sometimes the guests will sit and talk, but they usually are out exploring or don’t want to bother me. I’ve really enjoyed having you here, and it helped my work go by much faster.”
“I should be going. It looks like I missed a call from my husband, and a middle-of-the-day call from him is probably important,” I said, as I hopped off the stool and went over to Marie to give her a quick hug.
She wrapped me in her arms, giving me what might be one of the best hugs I’d had in a while, squeezing me extra tight at the end. I could smell sugar and lavender on her skin, and it was all so comforting.
“Please come by anytime, sweetie. I mean that.”
She walked me to the door, we said our goodbyes again, and I drove off with a quick wave, thoughts of the Breckenridge family on my mind, and trying not to worry what Dan’s phone call was about.
Ten
I texted Dan, then called, and waited. And waited. And then waited for him to come home. At least that was how it felt.
I convinced myself maybe it wasn’t so important if he hadn’t called me back yet. I wasn’t even sure if he was going to be home that night anyway. It seemed like at least half the week he ended up spending the night at work, and he often didn’t know until the day of if he would be home or not.
I decided to go home and prep dinner as though he’d be home, a bit of wishful thinking on my part. I looked over at the clock over an hour later to see how close to dinnertime it was, and still no word from Dan. I poured myself a glass of wine and stirred the nearly done pasta sauce.
I was lost in my thoughts when a strong arm wrapped around my waist and soft lips kissed my neck below my ear. I jumped and screamed, knocking my wine glass over and sending the wooden spoon I was stirring the sauce with flying in the process. Dan’s deep, rumbling laugh sounded in my ear.
“Hello to you, too,” he rasped in my ear, still getting a good laugh out of my reaction.
I spun around in his arms, smacking his chest as he pulled me close. I gave him a lingering kiss before pulling back.
“You know not to sneak up on me and scare me!” I nearly screamed, pushing at him again.
“I’m sorry, when I saw you there daydreaming I couldn’t help it.”
“I wasn’t even expecting you home tonight. You called in the middle of the day, which you never do, so I figured the call was either important or you were trying to let me know you wouldn’t be home tonight.”
“The call was pretty important, but we can talk about it later. I miss you, and I just want to hold you for a minute. Is dinner almost done?”
“Yeah, let me turn it off.” I reached around and turned the burner off. “I miss you too. I feel like I never see you anymore, and you call much less than you normally do.”
He looked away from me for a moment before turning back and running a hand through his hair in frustration. He began to talk but was avoiding eye contact. I guessed he didn’t want to put off the conversation after all.
Anxiety spiked in my blood, a crushing pressure in my chest. It felt like the beginning of a panic attack. I took deep breaths, trying to reassure myself he had said it was only “pretty” important.
“This project’s kicking my ass. I wish I could go into detail, but you know I can’t. There’s problems left and right, and the minute we solve a problem, a bigger, more complex one pops up.” Dan stopped pacing and rubbed at the back of his neck, trying to loosen the corded muscles. He cursed under his breath. I knew that whatever words passed his lips next were ones that I wasn’t going to like. “It’s been crazy, but if we can pull this off, it’ll make me seriously consider taking on fewer projects at the firm or finally starting my own company. I just need to get through this one.”
“Okay, I feel like there’s something else.”
“So, with that all said, it’s looking like this project is going to take closer to a year to complete.”
“Whoa.” I took a couple of deep breaths and felt my body relax. That wasn’t so bad. “That all sucks and I’m sorry we can’t talk about it. I know you’re more than capable of kicking ass on this and I don’t mind staying here longer, so don’t worry about me.” I walked over to Dan and placed a kiss to his cheek.
Instead of relaxing with that confession off his chest, his body remained taut and tense. It was in that moment I knew there was more he hadn’t told me yet.
I set the table and made plates for us, waiting for him to work through whatever it was in his head he needed to work through so we could finish this conversation. He came and sat down at the table across from me, still silent while eating his pasta. Finally, he made eye contact and gave me a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.
“Remember when we talked about having Josie come visit sometime after the new year? What do you think about her coming a little sooner?”
“Oh, hmmm. I could ask her what her schedule is like since the holidays aren’t too far off. Were you thinking of having her over for the holidays?” I asked, more than a little curious as to why he wanted her to come sooner.
“Well, yeah, if she could do it. I don’t know, it was just an idea, something to think about and run by her,” Dan replied before focusing on his dinner.
We sat in silence for the rest of the meal. This time, it wasn’t so comfortable. The unsaid words between us were a weight pulling us down, and the only way to lighten the load was to throw the words out there and free them. But we continued to sit in silence, waiting.
Finally, he slid his plate out of the way, and leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table, steepling his fingers.
“I suggested you have Josie come for the holidays because I have more news. Maris wants to increase the parameters but he still wants us to ma
intain the same timeline. To do it, he’s making the team move to the island facility where the work will be done.”
And just like that the other shoe dropped. Dan couldn’t or wouldn’t even meet my eyes, though his shoulders slumped and something that looked like guilt tightened the features of his face.
“Fuck.” I could feel the tears begin to gather in my eyes, and I closed them tightly, willing myself not to cry, not to make this harder than it already was. When I finally felt I could talk without losing it, I asked the questions floating around in my head.
“What does that mean? Will I be living here alone then? Will you be able to come home for the holidays, even just the day?”
“Yeah, you’ll pretty much be alone unless I can manage to get away for a day here or there. I know this wasn’t part of the plan. If you aren’t comfortable being here by yourself, you can always go back home.”
The disappointment and guilt in his voice was obvious—he didn’t even try to hide it. I wanted that alone to ease my own disappointment, but it didn’t. I’d just sat witness as our plans, our chance crumbled before me. I took a deep breath and did what I always did. I sucked it up and tried to bury my feelings.
“I’ll stay.” The words barely made it through my tight throat. I coughed and swallowed reflexively, hoping I could convince Dan with my words alone. “I’ll be okay here. I’ll call Josie tomorrow and see if she wants to come a little earlier.” I managed to sound more resolute and I nodded my head vigorously as though that would reinforce my point.
He smiled tightly back at me, not believing me for a second. The one thing I couldn’t help but wonder was, would he ever choose me, choose us over his career?
* * *
Two weeks had passed, and I still hadn’t called Josie. The day after our conversation Dan was packed and ready to go. He was allowed to take a half day to get his things together, so we slept in, holding each other tight and not wanting to let go or talk about what this meant for our already shaky foundation.
Through the Mist Page 6
