by Yvonne Heidt
Natalie drew back, surprised. “You’re saying that Sarah left the house?” She looked over to her mother who also had a questioning look on her face. “Sarah left Beth?” Natalie recalled her dream and the deep love they had for each other. That didn’t sound right at all, but she kept quiet while Van’s father continued.
“No one ever saw her again. Later, around that time, Richard and Beth had a son, Henry. Yes, I believe that’s right. Anyway, when he was just a small child, Beth ran away with another man.”
“And who could blame her?” asked Van.
“Not me,” answered her father. “The servants never believed it and suspected foul play, but there were no official accusations.”
“During the time period they lived in, if enough money crossed greedy palms, evil deeds could be hushed quite effectively.” Nat’s mother nodded.
“Indeed,” he said. “After Beth disappeared, Richard closed up the house and moved to New York. The house was empty for years until Richard came back. Town gossip says he returned and shut himself up in the house, never leaving it. According to the locals, he was flat out crazy. Some believed it was guilt that drove him to insanity. It’s said that he would stand in the turret room windows and stare at the sea, laughing for hours.
“They found old Richard Seeley dead by the fountain one day, covered in dirt. Henry, the son, never set foot on the property. He sold it through the agency in town. That must have been sometime in the nineteen forties, shortly before I was born.
“Most of this story is all hearsay. After getting the gist of it from my father, I called my brothers and asked them what they remembered as well.
“Over the years, there have been several owners. But it has stood empty more often than not. No one ever stays for long.” He paused and considered for a moment. “Well now, Natalie, I hope I’m not scaring you.”
She felt a slight chill but laughed anyway. “Oh, we O’Donnells take these things in stride.”
Her mother explained. “When my mother visited, we had séances instead of playing bridge.”
Natalie missed her Nana, who died when she was nineteen. She and her mother had always accepted the validity of ghosts. No one ever raised even an eyebrow when there was an empty place setting at the dinner table for dead relatives. Sometimes it was a little spooky, but Natalie didn’t ever remember being very scared by spirits. Then again, they hadn’t been sadistic wife beaters either.
Natalie was still curious as to why Sarah and Beth chose her to play out their story. At this point, she felt a little helpless for them. It’s not as if she could change anything while they were alive and living through Richard’s reign of terror. She sincerely hoped that the house cleansing had rid the house of his violent energy and that it gave Beth and Sarah some peace. She ignored the prickly feeling on her neck and tried to convince herself.
Van helped clear the table then sat with her father after Natalie and her mother insisted on doing the dinner dishes. “That was a fascinating story, Dad. I had no idea that you knew so much about the mansion.”
“Like I said earlier, I talked with your uncles. It turned out that John had the most information and a family tree to boot. I was surprised myself.”
“Odd how history slips away from us in such a relatively short period of time, you know?”
“Your Natalie seems like a very nice woman.”
Van smiled. “She is.”
“You like her.”
“I do.”
“Really, Vanessa, you need to quit chattering. I can’t get a word in edgewise.”
“Ha ha, Dad.” Van considered what to say. She heard Natalie laugh in the other room and was struck by how comfortable she felt hearing it. She did like Natalie, very much, and enjoyed her company. Actually, she felt entranced. Van felt a little anxious about the revelation. She hadn’t bothered to look beneath the surface of any woman she’d been with in the last six years, and her heart seized a little. She was attracted to Natalie, almost painfully so. But underneath that, Van realized she wanted to know much more about her. That scared her to death.
Natalie came out of the kitchen. “Where’s the little girls’ room?”
“I’ll show you. It’s this way.” She took Natalie’s hand and pulled her into the hallway. Van waited outside the door and when she came out, tugged her into the bedroom across the hall. “Finally,” Van said and wrapped her up. “A minute alone with you.”
Natalie smiled. “Hmm. Let’s not waste it.”
Van kissed her, softly at first because she meant to keep it gentle, but desire overtook her intention when Natalie’s tongue flicked across her lips. Van caught it and sucked and felt Natalie’s knees dip. “You like that?”
She heard a soft little sigh in response. “Yes.”
Van held on to Natalie and started to move backward toward the bed, then through her sexual haze realized their parents were in the living room. But it wasn’t as if Natalie was fighting it. It took a huge effort on her part, but Van let her go.
“I want you so much, Natalie,” Van leaned and whispered in her ear. “But when I take you?”
Natalie’s eyes were wide. “When you take me?”
“I want you to be able to scream.”
“Oh. My. God,” Natalie said. “I repeat, omigod.”
Natalie’s mother knocked on the door. “Honey? I’m sorry, but we have to go now. My flight is early.”
“Okay, Mom. I’ll be right there.” Natalie kissed Van. “Play date is over.”
Van laughed. “I’ll walk you out. We’re still on for tomorrow, right?”
“Absolutely.” Natalie stopped in front of the dresser. Van’s high school sports trophies and pictures still littered every available surface. She turned and smiled. “The jock?”
Van laughed. “Yes. Letterman.”
Natalie looked sad for a moment. “You wouldn’t have looked at me twice. I was the geek.”
“You underestimate yourself and me.”
Natalie continued to look at the pictures. “And this one?” She pointed to a photo of Cara that was stuck in the mirror frame.
Van paused. “We’ll talk more at dinner.” She opened the door, steering her away from the picture and into the living room where her mother was waiting and thanking Van’s father for the amazing dinner and story.
Van kissed her father’s cheek before seeing Natalie and her mother to their car. She wanted to go home and think by herself. Her father would only pepper her with questions if she stayed, and she didn’t know if, or how, she was going to answer them yet.
*
Natalie and her mother talked about what they’d learned when they got home. “I just don’t buy that Sarah left.”
“Or,” her mother said, “that Beth ran off.”
“And still, nobody has mentioned being haunted by them.” Natalie curled her legs underneath her and sipped her tea. “I mean, why me? Why now? It can’t just be that I look like her.”
“Beth was a child bride terrorized by a sadistic husband who apparently abused his sister, Sarah, as well. It doesn’t seem farfetched that they would find love for each other.”
Natalie recalled her dream of the passionate scene in the studio and shifted slightly in her seat. “There has to be another connection, doesn’t there?”
“Spirits don’t always play by our rules, Natalie. We might never know the whole story.”
Natalie refused to believe that. It was frustrating to only have pieces of the puzzle. “Could it be that I’ve finally admitted my own lesbianism?”
“That sounds logical, and that very well may be a connection. I’ve never seen you this comfortable or happy.”
Natalie laughed. “I don’t feel relaxed. I’m wound up tighter than a guitar string.”
“Your spirit is happy, baby. It shows.”
“Thank you, Mom.” Natalie hugged her. “We better turn in.”
Natalie said good night at her mother’s door and went into her own room.
T
he window was wide open.
She had a momentary little shock then remembered she’d wished for the women to stay with her. As long as they rid the house of the dark man, she could live with the residual feminine energy.
Natalie took a shower before going to bed. When she saw her pretty new dress hanging on the door she recalled the scene in the dressing room. Mary was right, she thought. The seed was planted. She sat at her old-fashioned vanity and braided her wet hair. She tried to honestly appraise the woman looking back at her. Thirty-two wasn’t old. Hell, these days fifty was the new thirty, right? Well, that practically made her a teenager!
Her image in the mirror seemed to shimmer and shift then Natalie was looking at her sixteen-year-old self. Red, angry acne appeared on cheeks that puffed up to resemble the chubby girl she’d been. She felt a sharp pain against her lips and instantly recalled the sensation of metal braces on her teeth. No! She wasn’t that girl anymore and refused to let a snotty stranger push those buttons and make Natalie see this girl she was in the past.
Her reflection slowly returned to the present, which left her with the thought that Van might break her heart. Natalie had no idea where to put the hateful remarks she’d heard. Like a virus, the ugly words wanted to spread and create new insecurities. She had a hard time reconciling the way Van looked at her and made her feel with the different picture that spiteful woman created that afternoon.
God, was that only hours ago? It felt like days. Natalie went to her bed. Well, the seed may have been planted, but she didn’t have to water it. She was future tripping about a long-term relationship and she hadn’t even slept with Van yet.
Natalie was exhausted when she lay her head on the pillow. The emotional roller coaster she’d been on since she arrived was racing like a slideshow behind her eyes. The divorce and the move. The ghosts and dreams. The personal revelations and lifestyle change.
Van’s face came to mind. She recalled the whispered promise and felt a spear of lust between her thighs. Good Lord, Natalie thought. How could I have ever accepted that I was frigid and broken? She let herself float to sleep with images of Van undressing her and making good on her threat to make her scream.
*
Natalie looked into the darkness and saw an oil lamp burning at the end of the hall. Her stomach filled with dread.
“Beth!” a loud voice boomed out. “You little bitch. You can’t hide from me forever. It will go much worse for you if you don’t come out right now. Beth!”
Shit. Natalie crouched beside a wooden chest outside one of the bedrooms. There was nowhere else in sight to hide. She dared a quick glimpse and saw a large shadow looming on the stairway. Natalie frantically tried to figure out where she should go. Where the hell could you go when you were stuck in someone else’s memory?
Natalie jerked when she heard glass breaking downstairs. She crawled on her hands and knees to the banister and peeked over the landing. A large hand descended on the back of her neck, snatching her like a small, helpless kitten.
“There you are! I told you not to hide from me. Obviously, you need me to teach you another lesson.” He shook her. “When will you learn?”
Natalie looked into his face and immediately wished she hadn’t. His eyes were flat black, the eyes of a predator. She could discern no emotion other than his volatile, insane anger. Each time he shook her, his dark hair hung forward in oily strands, and spittle flew out of his mouth. It was the face of a psychopath. She began to tremble violently when the sound of his evil laughter seemed to vibrate the walls and windows rattled in their frames.
The sound of feet running up the stairs registered in her terrified brain.
“Let her go, Richard!” Sarah screamed, holding her hands in fists at her sides.
“This is between me and my wife, Sarah. I told you, you have no business here.” He throttled Natalie hard enough to rattle her teeth. “Go on, go away or I’m going to think you’re jealous.”
Natalie was frantic. It was so cold she could see her breath expelling in a cold steam.
“On second thought, little sister, it’s been such a long time, come here.” Richard leaned over and grabbed Sarah by her hair and dragged her and Natalie to the master bedroom. “You can watch.” He giggled in a high-pitched voice.
Sarah screamed. She kicked and fought him as she struggled. Richard let go of her hair and shoved her hard, where she fell to the floor in front of the bed. He tossed Natalie onto the bed, and then backhanded Sarah when she tried to rise. Her head whipped around and hit the bedpost and she fell back again.
The windows were open and Natalie caught the familiar lavender scent in the breeze that blew in from outside. She scrambled to the top of the bed, willing herself to wake up. Richard’s malevolent laughter echoed in her ears, leaving her terrified and paralyzed when she reached the headboard, panting like a cornered animal. She whimpered, horrified when he reached her. Richard wrapped one hand around her neck and smiled wickedly while he ripped at her nightgown with the other. Natalie gurgled as his grip tightened, cutting off her air completely. Please no, she thought. Not this. Her legs drummed on the bed and her vision dimmed.
From a faraway distance, Natalie heard an alarm going off then the noise abruptly stopped.
“Natalie? Honey, wake up.” A gentle hand shook her shoulder.
Natalie gasped for a single breath and then took another.
“You’re soaking wet,” her mother said. “Are you okay?”
Natalie couldn’t answer. She put her hand to her throat, still feeling the echo of Richard’s vise grip. Her mother ran to the bathroom and came back with water. Natalie held the cold glass to her cheek. Her throat felt raw and her thighs burned. She decided not to tell her mother about the nightmare since she had to leave. She didn’t want to worry her. She could have had the nightmare simply because they had learned so much about what happened here in the past. Her mind latched on to the explanation and refused to consider the alternative.
“I’m fine, Mom.”
“You don’t look fine.”
“Just those scary stories last night, that’s all.”
Her mother looked doubtful. “Do you want me to stay?”
Natalie managed to smile weakly. “I’m good. Besides, Daddy needs you.”
“Do you want to leave and come with me?”
Natalie considered it for a second. Nope, not running from anything. She shook her head. “I’m fine.” She got out of the bed and winced inwardly. “I’ll walk you out.”
“Everything will be fine, Nat. I’ll bring your father for a visit when he’s walking better, okay?”
Natalie smiled at her. “That sounds wonderful.”
They stood at the door and made their tearful good-byes. Natalie was going to miss her, having her mother around had made her feel safer. Natalie had no problem admitting to herself that she could see things others couldn’t or wouldn’t. She never thought too much about it until recently, but her gift had allowed her to become a pretty good judge of character in her teens. But over the last decade she must have repressed it. Otherwise, she would have had to take a closer look at her sham of a marriage and the denial she ruled her life with. It was a little disconcerting to have the ability come back to her as an adult.
Natalie went to the kitchen to brew some coffee. While she was waiting for it to brew, she made a to-do list. A strong feeling of déjà vu came over her. Had it only been just over a week since she sat here for the first time? She looked around her cheery kitchen and contemplated starting a fire in the hearth. Natalie wanted to keep busy so she wouldn’t think about the brutal nightmare. The only thing she knew would keep out intruding thoughts was painting. She filled her cup and headed to the studio.
After she turned on every light and set up her easel, Natalie gathered her supplies. The silence was almost deafening and she felt a tiny chill when she realized the area was set up exactly as Beth had in her dream. The flashback brought memories of naked skin and incredible sensuality.
Natalie was struck with inspiration, picked up her pencil, and began to sketch. Her focus narrowed to the paper in front of her and she let instinct guide her hand while the outside world ceased to exist.
Chapter Twelve
Van escorted Natalie into the restaurant where she gave her name at the front desk. The patrons sat at intimate candlelit tables. This was definitely not the typical boardwalk crowd or the casual atmosphere of their first date. Van picked up the wine list. “Do you have a preference?”
Natalie smirked. “It depends on what we’re eating.”
Van felt heat from across the table. The double entendre washed over her. “Are we still talking about wine choices here?”
“Of course I’m talking about the wine. What else?”
Van saw the pink flush across Natalie’s cheekbones and loved the shy, flirtatious behavior. She was completely different than her usually brazen companions. Van was just about to give her a list of what else when she was interrupted by a tall, blond, and apparently, very agitated woman. “Who the hell do you think you are, Easton? How come you never called?”
Shit. Van hesitated and quickly searched her memory while the woman crossed her arms over her chest and tapped her foot. Then she remembered. “Lynn?”
“Yes, Lynn,” she spit out. When she opened her mouth again, Van abruptly excused herself from the table and, gripping her elbow, pulled Lynn out of the dining room to the hostess area.
Natalie felt drenched in ice water when she saw the triumphant look Lynn shot her over her shoulder. What was it with these tall and leggy fucking blondes, anyway? One stole her husband, okay, she admitted there was no great loss there, but this one stole her date right out from under her. Actually dismissed her as if she were nothing and no threat. Just like that woman had yesterday in the boutique. She had been willing to give Van the benefit of the doubt regarding her reputation until she showed her different. Two separate blondes in two days were a little much. Natalie stood and reached for her purse.
