“No. Sorry about your mother, Carrie Jo. I only met her twice, but she was clearly devoted to you and your son.”
“Yeah, we were lucky to have her.” We sat there awkwardly for a minute until I decided to gently prompt her. “Tell me about your dream, Bree. You say you’ve never had one like this before? It must have really disturbed you.”
“I am not sure I could call this a dream. It’s like I’m remembering something, something I don’t want to remember. I’m me in the dream, but a different me. And I’m sad, heartbreakingly sad. More than anything, I want my mother. As soon as I wake up, I go and look for her. She thinks I’m acting nutty, but I can’t explain it to her. And there’s another thing. When I look in the mirror—you know, when I’m dreaming—it’s not my face. I’m younger with different hair, and my eyes are different too.” She touched her face with her hands, her expression dreamy and confused.
“So, you don’t recognize this woman at all? This other face?”
“No, but I do know where I am. I’m at your place.”
“Here?”
“No, not here. Seven Sisters. I’m locked in a room at Seven Sisters. I can’t get out, and nobody comes.”
“Seriously? That’s amazing. Who else do you see, Bree? Is there a young man there too? Is his name Muncie?”
Her eyes began to water. “I don’t want to know any of that. I don’t want to see anyone. I don’t even want to dream about her, but I can’t make it stop. My intuition is back too—I feel like something is about to happen. Something bad. How do I make it stop?”
Suddenly she was weeping at my bar, so much so that Baby Boy heard us and came in to see what was going on. Naturally, he started crying too. My son was not one to let a lady cry alone. Or anyone, really. I handed Bree some tissues and picked up my son and hugged him. “It’s okay, Bree. Take a deep breath. We’ll get to the bottom of it. I swear we will.”
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m sorry for making your son cry too.”
“Oh, he’s like his Momma. He cries at the drop of a hat. Don’t you, Baby Boy? How about a snack?” I felt horrible offering him a snack to pacify him, but it was almost snack time anyway. I sauntered to the pantry with him and picked a pack of fruit snacks. Popping them open, I handed them to him, and he greedily accepted. With a hug for me, he said goodbye to us and headed back to Bob Bob in the living room.
“Sorry again, Carrie Jo. I shouldn’t have disturbed you.”
“Nonsense. It’s no disturbance at all. Do you know what room you are in? Can you describe it for me?”
With some relief, she nodded. “Yes, there’s a four-poster bed, double or queen sized, I can’t be sure. There’s a white chenille bedspread on it, an oversized armoire made from cedar, a writing desk near a window and a vanity table with a round mirror.”
I couldn’t hide my surprise. She was describing Calpurnia’s room!
I sat down and gazed at her. What should I tell her? Don’t worry about it, Bree. It’s just a girl who’s been dead for about a hundred and fifty years. Nothing to worry about at all.
I decided to shift gears while I wrapped my head around the possibilities. “What about this ominous feeling? Can you describe that to me?”
“It’s like when you know you have to do something but you really don’t want to do it. Remember what it was like when you had finals in college? Or an appointment with the dentist or doctor you weren’t looking forward to? That’s what it’s like times a hundred. I feel like I can’t avoid it. I have to face whatever is coming my way.”
“What does Jan say about this? Have you told her?”
“Heck no. She’d want to burn about a dozen candles and goodness knows what else. She hasn’t been the same since before Rachel left. It’s like it did something to her mind. I’m worried about her. She’s not the happy free spirit she was before. I’m kind of ticked at Rachel for running off like she did. It really hurt my mother.”
I tapped my lip and nodded. “Yeah, it hurt, but clearly Rachel wasn’t in her right mind. Back to your dream, Bree. I might can help you with a couple of things. First of all, it’s not unusual to feel as if you’re someone else in a dream. That’s part of the experience. It’s like you get to know what that person is thinking, how they process things, what they plan to do. It doesn’t mean you are that person. Not in my experience, at least.”
She sighed and relaxed a little. “That’s good to know. Now how do I make it stop?”
“That I don’t know. However, it might be that the dreaming will only last a little while and then fade away. Maybe the worry over Rachel has triggered your dream catching, or maybe you’ve always had it and it was dormant until now. There are too many things I don’t know about dream walking and dream catching, so I can’t say for sure. I do have a friend who might be able to help us. I could put a call into him, ask him if he’s ever heard of this happening spontaneously like this.”
“How did it begin for you?”
“Oh, I can’t remember a time when I didn’t dream. My mother was the same way, but it took her a long time to admit that or talk about it.”
Bree put the lid back on her water bottle and got up from the chair. “I think I’ll go home now and check on Mom. She’s been doing some strange things lately. Stranger than usual. When I’m not working, I like to be near her. I just wanted to talk to someone who’d understand.”
I rose with her. “Anytime, Bree. I’m here if you ever want to talk. And here’s something that might help. Immediately after any dream you have, write down what you remember. I keep a journal of my dreams. It helps put things in perspective.”
“All right. I’ll do that. Thanks a lot.”
Bree walked to the door, and I followed. As she drove away, I was the one with the ominous feeling. Like I might never see her again. Like I had failed her miserably. But surely that wasn’t true. I had tried to help her. I wanted to help her. And now I had something else to think about.
“Mommy! Bob Bob!” Baby Boy stomped his feet with a big smile on his face. How could this child be excited about another episode of the under-the-sea Bob Bob? Still, being the supportive mother I was, I clapped my hands and followed him into the living room to endure the world’s most irritating cartoon.
As Baby Boy and I played and watched Bob Bob, I couldn’t help but feel the cold fingers of worry climb up my spine. I thought about Rachel, Bree and Jan, wondering what was going on with that family. And where was Ashland? I’d give him ten more minutes and then call him. He’d been gone for nearly two hours now.
That’s when I heard the front door open.
Chapter Nine—Carrie Jo
“Hello? Ashland? We’re in here, babe.”
When he didn’t answer, I hopped off the couch and walked to the front door. I was stunned to see that the door was closed. Huh, that’s weird. I walked across the hall and into the kitchen. The side door was closed and locked, and Doreen wasn’t scheduled to come in until later in the day.
“Hello?”
Okay, I know I heard a door close. I’m not hearing things, am I?
I walked back to the living room. Baby Boy was stacking his blocks and singing the Bob Bob song. Then I heard the door again. I popped my head back in the hallway, and thankfully this time Ashland walked in. I couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief.
“Hey, babe. You just come in a minute ago?”
“No, why?”
“I’m hearing things, I guess. I thought I heard you come in a minute ago.”
With a worried expression, he walked to the kitchen. “I checked in there,” I said. “It’s fine.”
Without another word, he walked into the office; to my surprise, I saw one of the French doors standing wide open. “What the heck? I was just in here. I came to get my laptop to do some research, and that was closed. I swear. I never opened it.”
“It’s open now.” With his spine stiffened, he walked outside and looked around. “I don’t see anything. Maybe it wasn’t locked
securely and it popped open. Is anything missing in here?”
I scanned my desk and didn’t notice anything missing or out of place. “Nope, I don’t think so, Ash. That was weird.”
“Let’s get out of here before we do find something. I’ve got to take this medicine. Apparently, I have migraines now. Probably have to get my eyes checked too. Can you imagine me with glasses?” He laughed, but he wasn’t fooling me. I could tell Ashland didn’t feel well, and he probably wasn’t telling me everything.
“Come on, let’s check on the kiddo and I’ll get you a glass of iced tea.”
“There’s my boy!” Baby Boy ran to his daddy, and Ashland picked him up. He rubbed his belly playfully and “flew” him around the room making airplane noises. I quickly made us two glasses of iced tea and filled our son’s sippy cup with juice. He didn’t want it—he’d much rather have iced tea—but I was still the boss. Ashland liked to sneak him sips, but I frowned on that practice. Caffeine really revved the kid up. Momma used to tell me that it was the same with me growing up. I felt a twinge of guilt. This was day two of not visiting Momma’s grave. I hoped she understood. I’d definitely go in the morning. Hopefully I wouldn’t see Max again.
“So, what exactly did the doctor say?”
“Just what I told you. Migraines, and he wants me to get my eyes checked.”
I kissed his cheek while he took his medicine. “I’ll make you an eye appointment. Can’t have you squinting and having headaches every day of your life.”
“The sooner the better. I don’t think I could go through many more of those. It’s horrible pain.”
“I can see that. Hey, you’ll never guess who called me right when you left. Rachel!”
“Really? What did she say? Is she coming to help us at the house?” He took the pill and washed it down with tea.
“I don’t think that’s going to happen right now. She and Angus went horribly wrong.” I filled him in on all the details I knew, and he shook his head. Like me, he couldn’t believe Angus’ behavior.
“That’s a bad deal for her. I kind of liked him, but I knew you weren’t crazy about him.”
“Well, I’m frequently wrong about people. I wish I’d been wrong about him too. She asked me to box up the rest of her stuff from the office and said she’ll pick it up from Seven Sisters later today, if we plan to go still. If you’re up to it.”
“Yeah, my head is easing, but I won’t lie to you, it comes and goes. That stinks that she’s asked for her things. I always thought she’d be back.”
“Yeah, well, I guess she needs some time off. Which brings me to my next question—what are we doing? At Seven Sisters. Do you feel like talking about it? We don’t really have to make any decisions right now, I guess, but I’m one to have a game plan.”
“As am I.” He flashed his football star smile, reminding me how incredibly handsome he was. “Like I said earlier, I guess I should have talked to you first. I don’t know what I was thinking. At the time, it seemed like the perfect idea, but now I’m not so sure. Can we handle managing a house like that?”
“I know we can. It’s who we are, and…there’s more to uncover. Instead of running from it or staggering into a paranormal mystery, let’s just face it head on.”
“I’m with you. I want you to know I do have a plan. I didn’t just think of this overnight. I quietly looked at their numbers, and to be honest I don’t understand why the city couldn’t turn a profit. It’s clearly a point of interest for many visitors to the area. Let’s be smart, though. I think if we continue to work on the historical aspect, add more displays and maybe work with Detra Ann on some PR, we can dramatically increase those numbers. We could easily make one of the smaller buildings on the property a residence, if you don’t like the idea of living in the old house.”
“I’m not sure what I want to do, Ashland. I’m glad to hear the good news about the profit potential, but I’m also a bit overwhelmed. It’s a frightening thing, knowing we’re responsible for keeping Seven Sisters going.”
“The house survived a war, the Cottonwoods and being deserted for decades. I think it will survive you, me and Baby Boy.” He kissed me playfully.
“You should know I had a dream about the Delarosa family, the family who moved in for a while after the Cottonwoods. That’s what I was doing when you walked in on me and Austin.” I saw him flinch. “Let me repeat, nothing happened between us. Austin dreams, like me, but he dreams while he’s awake. It’s what my grandmother did—it’s called dream walking. He was showing me how to walk in and out of a dream. It made me woozy. That’s all that happened, babe. I swear.”
“I don’t want to think about it. Of course I believe you, but I love you. Would you want to see me piled up in someone else’s arms?”
“No, of course not. And for the record,” I said, reminding myself to stay calm, “I wasn’t piled up in Austin’s arms. But I do admit I should have been more sensitive. I swear I will be from now on.”
He squeezed my hand and rubbed his forehead. “Tell me about the Delarosas. What do you know?”
“Well, there were two Delarosa children, Lafonda and Jonatan. Actually, they were teenagers when they got here. Jonatan died at eighteen. I can’t understand why, but Christine Cottonwood was appearing to Lafonda. She saw her over and over again, and Christine was crying and wailing every time. I think she was trying to warn her that something was going to happen.”
“Wait a second. You’re throwing a lot at me here. Lafonda saw Christine? That staggers the mind.”
Just then, we heard the door opening again. But what door? Ashland and I looked at one another puzzled.
“Okay, enough is enough.” I don’t know who I said that to, but I said it loud and clear. I picked up Baby Boy, who fussed at me, and placed him behind the protective gate we kept up to keep him from running down the hall behind us. Because there was no doubt that Ashland and I were going to investigate.
I whispered, “I think that might be coming from upstairs.”
“Yeah, but let’s look down here first. Just to be sure.”
Ashland jogged down the hall, and I was right behind him, both of us ignoring Baby Boy’s complaints. Both the office door and the front door remained solidly closed. He looked at me and said, “Well, there’s nowhere else to go but up, babe. You ready?”
That question disturbed me so much. I grabbed his hand. “Yep!”
We waited a moment and again heard the slamming of the door. It sounded like our bedroom door, which was made of solid wood. So it couldn’t be the wind. We had no windows open on the top floor today as far as I knew. Ashland and I jogged up the stairs together and paused at the landing.
“Hello?” he called again. Another door shut, and loudly, but it must’ve been a closet door because all the doors on the hallway were closed and the sound was kind of muffled. Either something was trying to flee from us, or something really wanted our attention. I was confused for sure now.
“Let’s go room by room,” I suggested. “Where to start?”
“I think we start right here. I’m sure it came from our room.”
We stood outside the door, staring at it for a moment. I still had Ashland’s hand in mine, and I wasn’t about to let go.
With his other hand, Ashland opened the door, and it slowly swung open. I caught my breath—who or what awaited us on the other side?
Chapter Ten—Carrie Jo
“Holy heck.”
I never thought I would see this dress again. How in God’s name did it get here? Was this some kind of joke? I practically ran to the bed and reached out and touched the fabric. Yes, it was real. I was looking at an antebellum-style ball gown that I’d seen Christine wearing in a dream long ago. Yes, this was Christine’s dress.
And Ashland knew it too. I could tell by his expression.
“It’s Christine’s, right?”
“Yeah, but my mother owned it for a while. I don’t know how she got it.”
The sight o
f it completely unsettled me, and I began to search everywhere, in every closet and every room. There had to be an explanation. Perhaps whoever came in earlier, when we found the French door opened, left it here. That had to be it. But how? And why?
“Babe, talk to me. What in the world is going on here with this dress?”
“I haven’t seen it in…I don’t know, twenty years? It was one of my mother’s favorite vintage pieces. And if I remember correctly, she even wore it once to a ball or something. And now here it is in our bedroom.” Ashland pressed his forehead with his hand again. Whatever medication the doctor had given him obviously wasn’t doing him any good.
“Clearly, this is some sort of message. Help me pick it up…let’s see if there’s something under it, Ash.” He did, and we found nothing. The dress was light blue, with a lightweight overdress that likely fluttered when Christine danced. It was kind of dingy, as any old garment would be, and the sleeves sagged a bit. It reminded me of Cinderella’s dress, only a bit less shiny and much more worn.
“Christine is obviously warning us. Maybe we shouldn’t go back to Seven Sisters.”
Ashland sat in the corner chair with his head in his hands. “Give me a minute. I feel nauseous.”
If this pain didn’t ease up, I was dragging him to the hospital. “Migraine again?” I squatted beside him and looked up into his face.
“Yeah, it just hit me. Man, this sucks.”
“Let me call the doctor, Ashland. There’s no reason to be a hero.”
“If you give me just a minute, I’m sure it will pass.” I didn’t want to nag him during his episode, but we weren’t going to do this much longer. He had to get a second opinion. Maybe he hit himself in the head and had a concussion or something. It was totally like him to not tell me about an injury. He always had to be the tough guy. “Okay, it’s easing up. What can you tell me about that dress?”
“I’m not a dress detective, but this is an old label—the dress is made by Taylor and Company. I don’t think they are around anymore, but in their time, they were very popular. Especially locally.”
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