Sometime Yesterday

by Yvonne Heidt

  “No. From what I hear, they weren’t here very long.”

  They stopped at the kitchen table, and Van set her paperwork on the table while Natalie poured a cup of coffee.

  “Would you like some?” Natalie gestured toward the pot.

  “No, thanks.”

  “Do you know any of the stories about the house?”

  “Only that my ancestor worked here. I could ask my father about the stories.”

  “Could you? I would appreciate it.” Natalie was a little relieved that Van didn’t pop out with a gory story. She didn’t think she could handle one today.

  “Here are the costs and a blueprint for what I think would be the best layout for your property. We can change anything you want to or implement any ideas that you may have.”

  Natalie sat and tried to focus on the estimate. The plans looked wonderful and well thought out. The gardens would be restored where they should be and she liked the idea of having the grounds look the way they might have at the turn of the previous century. She noted the small tremor in the page she was holding and set it back down. The air seemed to thicken in the room and Natalie found it difficult to take a full breath. Her body pulsed with pent up desire, and damn it, she couldn’t think with Van in the room and so close to her.

  From the moment she’d stepped onto the porch, Van was aware of the sexual energy that sprang up between them. She couldn’t quite pinpoint what was different, but the last time she’d been here to see Natalie, she was a nervous wreck. Now she seemed to be undressing her with her eyes. She was happy to return the favor and let her gaze travel. She liked everything about her but tried to pull it back to the business at hand.

  Natalie said something she missed. Van tore her attention away from Natalie’s chest to her face. “Excuse me?” Van was aware of the effect she had on women but rarely had she seen such blatant need in someone’s expression. A strange emotion rose in her. She wanted to throw Natalie to the floor; she wanted her underneath her so she could take her. Possess her completely until she submitted and whimpered her pleasure. Where the hell had that come from? Whoa, Vannie. Client here.

  “I just remembered.” Natalie said abruptly. “I have another appointment. Could you come back later when I have time to go over the new designs with you? Or perhaps I could come to the nursery if that would be more convenient for you?” Natalie’s pen moved with lightning speed as she signed the estimate.

  “Aren’t you going to read them?”

  “I trust you.”

  Van was a little surprised at the dismissal and still reeling from her fantasy. “Of course. Either way, just call me when you have the time. We could try and have the first cleanup crew here in a couple of weeks or so. At least on half days with our schedule so booked.”

  Van followed her down the hall. She grinned when she passed the closet under the arched stairs, remembering the last time she’d been in the house. But there was no way she was going to tell her new client about the foray into her closet so many years ago. She had the oddest sensation of feeling watched. She glanced behind her, but there was no one there.

  She sat in her truck for a moment, staring through her windshield at the house. The drapes in one of the front windows on the second floor moved and she wondered if Natalie was watching her leave. This had to be one of the fastest and strangest meetings she’d ever had with a client.

  Chapter Seven

  “Okay then,” Natalie said to the closed door after Van left. She almost felt like crying, but whether that was because she wanted Van to stay, or because she felt as though her life was caught in a Stephen King novel, she didn’t know.

  She turned to leave but heard tires crunching on the driveway and quickly opened the door. She was excited to think that maybe Van had forgotten something and come back. Why would she? Natalie had practically thrown her out after signing the estimate.

  A strange car pulled in behind her Mercedes. Natalie let out an excited squeal when she saw her mother get out and ran off the porch to greet her before she had even shut the car door.

  Her mother held Natalie at arm’s length. “Hi, baby. Let me look at you.”

  “Mom, I’m so glad you’re here. Did you have any problems? What do you think?” Natalie rattled off the questions rapidly, not pausing long enough for an answer.

  “Slow down, sweetheart. I just got here. Let’s go inside. My bag is in the backseat. Could you get it for me?”

  Natalie grabbed the bag and ran ahead of her so she could enter the house first. “My mother is here,” she shouted through the doorway. She grabbed her mother’s hand and they entered into the foyer. They weren’t in the door four steps before the front door slammed behind them.

  “How cheesy is that?” Natalie asked.

  “He’s making a statement, I suppose.”

  “He?” Natalie said, thinking of the man in her nightmare.

  Her mother spotted the painting and headed straight for it. A contemplative look crossed her face as she studied it. She reached out to touch it and drew back as if she’d been burned.

  “I knew it had something to do with this painting. She looks so familiar to me, Mom. I could swear it’s been doing some Dorian Gray thing on me.” Natalie chose not to tell her mother of the erotic dreams, yet. At some point she knew she would discuss it. Maybe.

  “It’s a doorway,” her mother said.

  “Crap. I was hoping you were going to tell me I’m suffering from an overactive imagination.” Natalie pushed her hand through her hair and started pacing back and forth in front of the painting.

  Her Mother smiled then hesitated slightly. “The woman in the painting, she’s not the only one here.”

  “Would that be the ‘he’ you were referring to?” Natalie shivered and looked over her shoulder.

  “Yes. Let’s get the normal stuff out of the way, shall we? I’ve had a long flight and drive. I’m just not ready for kicking some spirit fanny just yet. Okay?”

  “Of course. I’m sorry.” Natalie hoisted her mother’s bag and headed for the stairs. “It’s just that things have been so weird this last week. Things are happening that make no sense and I’ve been a little spooked. Let me show you to the guest room. It even has its own bathroom.”

  “Your new house is lovely, Natalie. I’m looking forward to seeing the rest of it.”

  *

  With her mother safely upstairs napping, Natalie sat on the couch in the living room, curling her legs to the side. She debated calling Mary, but with last night’s dream several hours behind her, she didn’t feel the same urgency that she did this morning. She was reluctant to bother her since she had done so much for her in the last month. She looked over at the painting. Sarah hadn’t moved again. Natalie had almost convinced herself that she perceived the painting incorrectly the first night she was here. Now, after what her mother told her, she knew that wasn’t the case. Her thoughts drifted to the beautiful woman smiling shyly at her. That was some fantasy. She could not stop thinking about how incredibly turned on she was by the whole dream. Well, until the end of it, anyway. In all her life, she had never thought of women that way until she moved into this house. Liar.

  A thick black wall of denial crumbled. A myriad of images and feelings swirled in her mind. Her artwork rushed to the front of her mind. Her paintings were always of women. There was Cleopatra, stretching like a cat on her chaise couch, sultry, yet aloof. Lady Godiva, naked and fiercely glorious on her horse. Helen of Troy, on the balcony watching a thousand ships in the distance. Each one of the women portrayed as strong and seemingly untouchable by mere mortals. Natalie felt truly alive when she was painting.

  Why did she paint only women? Why not the elusive Prince Charming on his unattainable white horse? The answer was so obvious: she loved everything about women. The graceful curve of a neck, the slope of a shoulder, and the curve of a waist giving way to round hips.

  Scores of Goddesses were held locked in her imagination until she made them real on canvas. Nat
alie recalled the passion that consumed her when she was painting. The women belonged to her and she knew that she made love to them with every stroke of her paintbrush.

  Small guilty teeth nipped at her conscious. In doing what was thought was expected from her when she married, it appeared she had completely denied who she was.

  Natalie put her hands over her face and groaned. A couple of years ago, for her nude Angel in Paradise painting, she’d hired a new model. Natalie had been mesmerized by the long, silky hair that rained down the woman’s back. As Natalie posed her, she remembered sliding her hand along the sides of the girl’s luscious breasts, caressing her waist and lightly touching her buttocks to position her the way she wanted her, just so. She tried to tell herself it was the artist in her, but if she wanted to be consistent at being completely honest, and it seemed at this point that she must, she felt that girl up.

  Oh God, I’m a letch too.

  *

  “Nat? Your paintings are here.” Her mother called her from the foyer.

  “Finally! I’ve felt naked without them.” Natalie tried to hide the fact she’d been crying by keeping her face turned away. “There’s fresh coffee in the kitchen if you want some. I’ll just go out and meet them.”

  “Okay. Then we’ll talk about why you are so upset and why you’ve been crying.”

  Busted. “How do you do that?” Natalie spun from the door to look at her mother.

  “Natalie, I’ve read your mind your whole life. Why are you still surprised?”

  “I keep thinking it’s going to wear off with age or something,” Natalie answered under her breath.

  She let the movers in and directed them to the turret room where her paintings would be stored. She blatantly ignored the supervisor, Josh, an overweight, sweaty, rude man who didn’t even try to hide the leer on his face while he checked her out. She watched them for a moment to make sure they were showing proper reverence to her paintings then left them to it.

  She found her mother in the kitchen looking out the window over the sink with her head cocked to the side as if she were studying something. “Did you see something unusual out here?”

  “That’s one of the first strange things that happened to me here, Mom. I was standing where you were, and when I looked outside, the garden was immaculate. It looked like a photo straight out of a Better Homes and Garden spread. When I rushed outside, I realized it was an illusion. Scared the bejesus out of me. I thought it was stress or something.”

  “I can sense a strong energy outside the window.”

  “An entity?”

  “No. Residual. More like a recording. Something important happened out there. The strong emotion tied to the area is looping around and around, playing itself out, and then repeating.”

  Natalie tapped her fingernail on the table. “How come I’ve never experienced this phenomenon before?”

  “I don’t know, Nat. I’ve always sensed a psychic spark in you, but you never brought it up or asked me any questions, so maybe you just blocked it. Or maybe it’s just something to do with this house and these ghosts.”

  Natalie thought of everything else she had blocked in her life, including herself. She opened her mouth, but before she could speak, a crash and yell sounded from the stairs and brought them to their feet. Natalie was the first one out the kitchen door. She found Josh at the bottom of the second floor landing swearing and holding his ankle. His face was angry and red. “Who the hell pushed me?”

  Natalie looked behind him. “There doesn’t seem to be anyone else there. Are you all right? Do you want me to call an ambulance or something?”

  Josh twisted his neck to look up the stairs. “I could have sworn someone was behind me. I thought it was one of my guys.” His voice trailed off when his two laborers entered the front door with another load. “Really.”

  Colleen clucked over him. “It might have been a loose floorboard, dear. Maybe you were going too fast and missed a step,” she said sweetly. “Would you like me to get some ice for that?”

  Natalie bit back a giggle. She was just talking with her mother about spirit doorways, ghosts, and psychic energy in the house, and she was blaming the man’s own clumsiness? God, she loved her.

  Josh looked more embarrassed than hurt. “No, thanks. This here is the last load. Ms. Chambers, I have your inventory list.” There was no sign of his leering at her now. “Could you please check this stuff off?”

  As soon as Natalie reached the top of the stairs, the air seemed to rustle around her. It was faint, but she could definitely hear a trace of laughter. She looked down the hall.

  “Sarah, did you push that nasty man?” She stood there for a few moments, but she didn’t see or hear anything else. Maybe her haunting could have its fun moments. It certainly seemed to be protective.

  Natalie looked out the floor-length windows in the turret. She was once again struck by how much she loved this room and the endless view of the ocean. Natalie pulled out her copy of the inventory list. She spread it out on the corner desk to compare the two. Everything was numbered and so organized it only took a few minutes to ascertain that all her paintings were there and in good condition. She was filled with anticipation bordering on Christmas morning excitement. She couldn’t wait to start painting. She carefully closed the door at the bottom of the stairs to keep the cool air in place and joined her mother in the living room, who was entertaining the work crew with her tarot cards.

  Josh took the finished checklist from her hand and limped toward the door. “We appreciate your business. I’m off to make my fortune and meet the woman of my dreams according to the cards and your mother. Let’s go, guys.”

  After they left, Natalie looked at her mother, amused. “The cards didn’t really say that, did they?”

  “No, but I had fun.”

  “Mother.” Natalie laughed.

  Chapter Eight

  Natalie wondered if she would ever tire of watching the sunshine bounce off the ocean, but it was so bright she was glad she was wearing her Ray-Bans. “This is so charming. I love it!”

  “I haven’t been able to come very often, but now that you’ve moved here, I hope to come here more frequently. It’s hard to interest the boys in a farmers market,” Mary said, testing a tomato.

  “Did you call each other this morning to see what the other was wearing?” Natalie’s mother caught up to them on the boardwalk. “You look like the Bobbsey twins.” She straightened her colorful gypsy broom skirt and adjusted the wide-brimmed straw hat on her head.

  Mary smiled and motioned at the crowd in front of them. “It’s Bayside’s uniform, see?”

  They all laughed when they caught sight of at least a third of the crowd wearing cutoff jeans and sleeveless blouses. The only difference in some was in the name brands. Some people paid more for casual.

  “Nat? Are we looking for anything in particular or are we just browsing?” Her mother pointed to the left side of the market. “I want to check out the candles and that interesting looking crystal booth over there. Either come find me or I’ll find you. The place isn’t that big.”

  Natalie watched her leave, her colorful clothes blowing behind her. “God, I love my mother.”

  “Who wouldn’t? She’s a wonderful character. How long is she staying?”

  “Dad called last night, says he’s falling apart without her. So I’m not sure.”

  “Is he really?”

  “No. My father’s perfectly able to take care of himself. He just misses her something fierce when she’s away. He gets bored.”

  “I can see how life with your mother could be far from boring.”

  “Mmmm.” Natalie’s attention was drawn to a large section in the far corner. She could see various yard sculptures, colorful plants and benches, and hear the sound of wind chimes in the slight breeze. She felt herself drawn to the display.

  When she got closer, she could also hear splashing water. The sound hitched in her stomach, reminding her of the dream of Sarah
and the fountain.

  “Can I help you?”

  Natalie let her eyes follow the sound of the voice. “Um…” Natalie felt a sexual tug when Van approached her. She tried clearing her throat. “Um…” She felt stupidly tongue-tied.

  Mary came to her rescue. “Hi, my friend just moved here and I was showing her around. Is this a new business? I don’t recall seeing it here before.” She held her hand out to her. “I’m Mary, and this is my friend Natalie.”

  “I’m Van. It’s nice to meet you, Mary. Natalie and I have met, and yes, this is my first year here at Bayside Farmers Market. I started a landscaping design business out of my father’s nursery not too long ago. This is my attempt to snare business for the rest of the year.” Van took a step closer to Natalie and took her hand. “How are you?”

  Natalie wanted to sigh but smiled instead. At least, she hoped it was a winning smile; her face felt a little numb. Mary interrupted. “Can we look around? You have some beautiful art here.”

  Van let go of Natalie’s hand slowly and smiled. “Of course. Yell if you need something.”

  Natalie let Mary lead her over to the fountain structure. She could feel an itch between her shoulder blades. Sure enough, when she glanced back, Van’s eyes were glued to her. She flushed with an unfamiliar heat between her thighs. She tried to concentrate on what Mary was saying. She nodded at what she hoped were appropriate places, but her gaze kept tracking back to where Van was standing.

  “Hey!” Mary slapped Natalie’s bare arm. “You haven’t heard a word I’ve said.”

  “Ouch. I have too, smarty.”

  “What was I talking about?” Mary stuck a hand on her hip.

  “Um…you know…about…stuff!”

  “Stuff?” Mary chuckled and then narrowed her eyes in mock annoyance. “You have no clue, do you?”

  Natalie gave up the pretense and shrugged. “Not a one. Have you looked at her?” She fanned her face with her hand. “No, don’t look. She’s watching.”