We ate breakfast together, and I watched him shave and prepare for his day. We showered together, making love in a melancholy, subdued way. It felt like goodbye. Hell, it was a goodbye.
I watched him drive off in the town car that came to pick him up, feeling shell-shocked about our plans having changed so much in what felt like the blink of an eye.
One thing hadn’t changed: the strange shit going on at the house. Sometimes I could hear my name whispered on the breeze, like a faint caress. So quiet, over so quickly I often thought I’d just imagined it. Random breezes flowed through the house when all the windows and doors remained closed.
Objects still moved and showed up in places they weren’t at before, places they didn’t belong. One time I found my phone in the shower. I had no explanation for that one.
The stereo system would turn on, playing different songs. Sometimes it was songs I enjoyed and had played on repeat in the house, sometimes it was songs I’d never heard before but ended up loving.
The books still showed up, almost always open to a page that contained some passage that automatically jumped out at me. This did not seem random to me at all.
I still felt light touches on my skin, always accompanied by that now familiar scent. I knew when that scent surrounded me, something else would follow, whether it was a touch or the sense I wasn’t alone. Strangely enough, these events were happening with such regularity I was getting used to them.
The weirdest and perhaps worst thing were the dreams. They were happening nearly every night now. They were all strange and surreal, not at all like the dreams I was used to having. I was floating, or falling, or swimming. There were mystical, mythical creatures.
The one thing all of these dreams had in common was the handsome dark-haired man with the beautiful green eyes and unnerving, penetrating gaze. What got to me so much was the fact he seemed so familiar. Like I had met him before, like I knew him better than I knew anyone. Like I loved him more than I had ever loved anyone. There was always this strange magnetic pull between us. A pull so strong, as if no matter what, we were destined to touch, to be together in some way.
It was also strange that now, even days after having one of these dreams, I could still remember them. I was retaining every single detail. I’d been lucky if I remembered any of my dreams before moving here. Now I couldn’t escape them, even when I was awake.
I considered journaling them, but I realized I didn’t want to commit them to paper. I wanted to hold on to the feelings they elicited as tightly as possible, keeping them only for myself.
* * *
“Seriously? You wait three weeks to call me and act like that’s okay?”
The humor in Josie’s voice was evident, but there was no mistaking the underlying disappointment.
“Well, I’m not the only one with a phone. You could have called me too,” I retorted with no bite.
“True, true. I’ve been busy. Things have been crazy here at the center. We lost a couple instructors and I’ve been teaching classes and hosting seminars along with all my other responsibilities. It’s been exhausting, but things are starting to slow down with the holidays around the corner, so I’m almost caught up.” She sighed.
“It’s funny you say that. Things have changed here and I was wondering if you wanted to maybe stay with me for the holidays?”
“You do know we’re like a week away from Thanksgiving, right? Is Dan okay with this?”
“It was actually his idea. The truth is, I don’t even know if he will be here for the holidays.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” she practically shouted at me. It was one of the things I loved about Josie. She always supported me, always had my back.
“Jos, calm down. Everything is fine. His project is screwed up and it was expanded. The entire team had to move to a neighboring island for the duration of the project.”
“Wait, so you’re living there by yourself?”
While she wasn’t shouting, she didn’t sound calm in the least.
“Yeah, I am. But I’m okay with it. I just miss him. With Thanksgiving and Christmas coming up it would be nice to know I’m spending them with at least one person I love.”
“Well, I just spent the last week nose deep in my schedule and we decided to close the studio down for most of the holidays, so you can have me until January third. Are you sure you don’t want to come home, sweetie? Wouldn’t that make more sense?”
Josie ran a popular studio that was sort of new age-ish. On top of fitness and yoga classes, they also ran seminars in things like meditation, tantric sex, and couples’ therapy. She had somehow made this odd mix of offerings usually targeted at the hippies, hipsters, and crunchy mamas who lived in the area also accessible and desirable to the more moderate and mainstream residents.
“No. It feels like this is where I need to be. Plus, I haven’t talked to the girls much since being here. We’ve been playing phone tag and we’ve texted a little, but I feel a bit disconnected from Santa Barbara right now.”
“Are you sure, Ros? You know the girls won’t care. We all miss you and would be happy to have you home.”
“Yeah, I’m more than sure. Plus, there’s always the chance Dan will be able to come home for a day or two for the holidays, so that alone would keep me here. So, yay! I’m excited and I can’t wait for you to see everything. Just send me the day you want to come and I’ll arrange your ticket.”
Even if Dan was a no-show for the holidays, I knew with Josie here, everything would still be festive and feel like home. A part of me also knew this was a test.
I wanted—no, I needed—to see what she would experience here in this house. I needed confirmation or I needed to let it all go. If Jos experienced any of the things I had, she could provide that confirmation.
Eleven
“Holy shit, Ros! The photos do not do this place justice. At. All.” Josie gasped as we stepped out onto the balcony off the master bedroom.
I gave her a tour of the house and her jaw remained suitably dropped for most of it. I had to walk up to her at one point and close it for her. It didn’t remain that way for long.
“I thought I knew what to expect, but there was no preparing for this.”
“I know, I felt the same way.”
My mind drifted back to the first time we came up the drive. The towering Douglas firs, pines, and cedar trees gave way to wood shingling, red brick, and glass-paneled French doors on the most beautifully modern Craftsman-style house. The rustic yet modern interior and furnishings perfectly fit its exterior.
“I love it here and I don’t know how I’m going to leave when the time comes,” I murmured as my mind cleared from the memory.
“You’re okay here, by yourself? I was never worried about you back home because you had us. But here? I’m worried.” Jos stopped to take a breath and I opened my mouth to speak, but she beat me to it. “Then throw in all the weird shit you were telling me about. I hate to say this, but as beautiful as this place is, isn’t this how most horror movies begin? A young woman by herself in a peaceful yet remote location? Everything appears perfect at first—”
“Oh my God, Jos, stop being so dramatic!” If I didn’t stop her, she would keep going until we ended up in this ridiculous place, with neither of us knowing how we ended up there.
“Okay, okay. But I will say, I’m not getting a weird or creepy vibe at all from this place. You know when people talk about the hell they went through living in a haunted house, they always, always talk about how they knew from the minute they set foot in the place something was off, that something didn’t feel right. I don’t feel it here at all. I can see why you love it.”
“I know. It’s why I don’t agree with the haunting theory of yours. I think you just want it to be something exciting. I’m sure the real reason is much more mundane.”
I turned and walked back into the house.
“Well, on to the real important matter at hand, what are we doing for turkey d
ay? Is Dan coming? What are we eating? I need to know these things, dammit!” she said as she practically skipped through the house to the kitchen, grabbing the bottle of wine and glasses I had left out on the island, and making her way back to the balcony off the living room.
“I haven’t done any planning. I don’t know if Dan is coming or not. Marie is throwing a potluck-style family meal and invited us, so I was thinking maybe we should go there.” I ticked off the answers to all her questions on my fingers.
“You know what, if it means we get more time together and less time stuck in the kitchen, I’m down for it. Now, let’s drink, and you can tell me all the gossip about this place and your ghostly roommate.”
I side-eyed her and couldn’t miss her lips twitching in an effort to hide her smirk. What she couldn’t hide from was the pillow I threw at her face.
“Hey, asshole, don’t spill the wine!” she yelled at me, sloshing wine onto herself before launching the pillow right back at me.
Before I knew it, we both had dissolved into endless giggles.
* * *
It felt like the time Jos had here was slipping through my fingers. Thanksgiving had been a blast. Josie and I had spent it with Marie and her family, and a few of their friends who also had no one else to spend the day with.
Dan had called the night before to let me know he wouldn’t be able to make it, some mishap they ran into. I could hear boisterous laughter in the background during our five-minute call, including that of a woman. I mostly brushed it off, as I knew there was a woman on his team.
I didn’t really understand how an emergency at work that kept him from spending a holiday with me led to what sounded like a social gathering at eleven at night, but he was working so hard, I would never have denied him the need and opportunity to relax. I still couldn’t help but be disappointed by his absence.
Jos and I had spent a lot of our time since she arrived vegging out, shopping, and hanging out with Marie. The only thing we hadn’t talked about was researching the Breckenridge family.
“Hey, I was thinking about checking out the island historical museum today, see if I can find anything out about the family who used to own this land. Are you up for playing historian with me?” I asked her while we were enjoying coffee after breakfast a week into her trip.
“Sure, what do you know already? Did you Google them?”
“Ummm, no. I kind of put it all on the back burner.”
“You said he wasn’t from Washington at all, right?”
“Yeah, I think he was from San Francisco, though I’m not sure how accurate the information is.”
“Well, it’s a place to start. Hold on a sec.” Jos grabbed her phone, clicked and swiped a bit before putting it to her ear. “Hey, hon, how are you? Yeah, I’m still here with Ros. I know, I know, I’ll have her call you tonight, I promise. Oh, we can do a FaceTime wine night!”
She explained what she needed help with while I sat listening to her side of the conversation, wondering which of our girls she was talking to. Finally, she said her goodbyes, ended the call, and pulled my laptop in front of her, beginning to type in a flurry.
“Sooooo…” I began, trying to get her to tell me what was going on.
“Oh, that was Scarlett. She’s good with this kind of research. She did this whole genealogy project for her family a couple of years ago. I figured she would know where we should start looking, and I was right!” she exclaimed without looking up from what she was typing once.
“How did I not know?” I asked, feeling like a shitty friend.
“I don’t think it was something she talked about. We only discussed it once. Okay, Ros, so what was his name?”
“I don’t know actually. His last name was Breckenridge. He died in the early 1900s, and he was in his late twenties to early thirties when it happened. He died in some boating accident or crash or something.”
“Okay, well, we’ll just start with the family name and San Francisco.”
* * *
Two hours later we were surrounded by papers she had printed off from various websites. I had tried at the beginning to grab back my laptop and read what Jos had pulled up and help her, but she was so in the zone researching I didn’t want to bother her, other than bringing her drinks and snacks. After the fourth time of me trying to look over her shoulder, she swatted me away.
“Go find something else to do. I’m having fun and I want to reveal what I’m finding all at once,” Jos said distractedly, still trying to shoo me away.
“Fine, fine.” I threw my hands up and walked away. I knew better than to argue with her.
Once my stomach started growling loud enough for Jos to hear in the other room (or so she claimed), I decided it was time for both of us to take a break for lunch. I walked into the dining room she had since taken over, and found her in the middle of chaos. She looked up with the biggest grin on her face, and I knew then she had found something.
“Hey, my stomach is starting to feast on itself, you ready for lunch?” I asked.
“Sure. We can talk about all the info I found while we eat.”
“Do you want to eat here or out in town?”
“Ohhh, out in town for sure! Can we try that one restaurant you were telling me about? The place with the lavender ice cream? I can’t stop thinking about it since you mentioned it yesterday.”
She gathered up a stack of papers and shoved them into her purse as we left. Once we were seated and had ordered our food, she leaned forward in her chair with the biggest grin on her face, the excitement radiating off her in nearly tangible waves.
I wanted to wait her out and not say anything, just to drive her a little crazy, but I knew she wouldn’t say anything without me asking first, and I could tell she would not be contained if her fidgeting and inability to sit still was any indication.
“So, what did you find out?” I finally asked, unable to hide my smile.
She pulled the stack of papers out of her purse and placed them in front of her. The first page was a picture. A copy of a very old picture, taken with one of those vintage cameras.
Though I guess it wasn’t vintage back then. I tried to lean over so I could see it better, but she pulled it closer to her first, smirking at me.
“I think this is the man you’ve been looking for,” she stated dramatically as she presented the picture to me with a flourish.
I took it from her hands, looked at it, and gasped as the picture fell from my shaking hands. The blood drained from my face and a dull pounding started in my temples.
“What? What’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
She rose from her chair, but I put my trembling hand up, gesturing her to stop while I shook my head repeatedly. I glanced down at the photo again at an absolute loss for words.
“You’re seriously freaking me out right now, what the hell is wrong?”
“Nothing, it’s nothing. I want to hear what you found out first,” I replied in a hushed voice.
My hands were on my lap in tight fists, my attempt to stop them from shaking or at least stop it from being noticeable to Jos.
How did I tell her the picture she’d just presented me with was the same man who had been showing up in my dreams for the last few months? How did I even rationalize it? It wasn’t logically possible.
It was no wonder I looked like I’d seen a ghost. I just had. How I was even able to breathe steadily at the moment was beyond me.
She looked at me like she wasn’t sure if she should continue talking or press me for more information. Her eyes narrowing and brow furrowing as her mind worked. Her face smoothed out, the tension gone when she’d made her choice. She shrugged her shoulders and went on.
“Okay, so his name was Archer Breckenridge, and he owned the land your house sits on. His family was from San Francisco and they were very prominent in various businesses and banking.”
“That’s pretty much what Marie told me.”
“Think you can let me get thi
s all out without interrupting?”
“Ugh. Fine, fine. Go on.” I sighed deeply, trying to give her the impression of being incredibly put out. Jos’ mischievous smile let me know I failed.
“He was the youngest son but was known to be incredibly intelligent and gifted when it came to business. A business opportunity came up in Seattle they couldn’t pass up, so they sent Archer to manage it. Coming from a family with this kind of wealth and prestige, he was a highly sought-after bachelor. And seriously, from looking at his picture, I can’t blame them. He’d have women throwing themselves at him now if he were alive. Look at the intensity in his eyes. Panty-melting.”
I glared at her with that statement and she shrugged and giggled.
“I digress. While in Seattle, another family in the same circles, the Averys, introduced him to their daughter. It seemed to be a love match, and they were quickly engaged. She was also quite lovely.” Jos paused to hand me a copy of her picture.
With what looked like pale blonde hair, light eyes, a heart-shaped face and a small but pretty smile, she was classically beautiful, and also looked quite young.
“Archer was almost twenty-eight years old, which at the time was a little older than most getting married. Soon after they announced their engagement, he bought the land you live on with plans to develop it into an estate. No one knows why he chose a place so far from Seattle, especially a place so uninhabited.”
She stopped as our waitress appeared with our food. We both ate in silence. Josie enjoyed her meal, while I picked at mine and contemplated what I now knew about Archer.
To say I was still in shock would be an understatement. Maybe if I had seen his picture before, I could understand how he had ended up in so many of my dreams. But this was my first time seeing him, other than my dreams, and it scared me.
Through the Mist Page 7
