“I am not certain how you came to be in my time, Cordelia, but I am ever grateful God brought you to me.”
He smiled, which made Cordie feel at ease and lifted the menacing burden of what she had said only moments ago. Yet still, she could not help but wonder how Jon could be so accepting of what appeared to be so very unnatural. Cordie was even happier when Jon swept her into his arms to carry her across the field to Schelling House. She nestled her head into his shoulder and held on tightly. She didn’t know why this whole thing wasn’t freaking her out, but right now, Cordie just didn’t care.
“My mother rules the roost while the rest of my family takes up arms. We shall tell her you are visiting and fell ill due to the heat while riding. Please follow whatever I say as the truth.”
“Of course,” Cordie said, inhaling the sweet smell of Juniper in his hair.
“And Cordelia, could you attempt to lessen that very Northern accent of yours?”
It had not occurred to Cordie how prominent her accent was until she listed closely to Jon as he spoke.
“Why certainly, Jon,” Cordie said in her best rendition of a Southern accent, which caused Jon to smile. “Doesn’t it bother you, I mean, you know I am not from your time yet somehow I am here.”
“Life is a mystery, Cordelia, that mere men cannot explain. If God saw fit to allow us this time together, then who am I as a man to question it?”
Cordie was not quite satisfied with this answer and pressed further. “But you saw my father, a long time ago, so you must know you are dead.”
Jon looked into her eyes, the eyes of the woman he desperately wanted to somehow become his wife. “This time, here, is my time, and this is where I am trapped. But where you exist, Cordelia, is not my time, so to you I am a mere spirit who crosses into your world. It is much more pleasing to have you here with me.”
“But you were real to me, at least. How can that be possible?”
“I cannot say. Perhaps you are different from those who came before you.” Jon paused before carrying Cordelia up the stairs, into Schelling House, and to the parlor.
“Oh dear, what happened?” Jon’s mother said, rushing into the room.
“Miss Cordelia succumbed to the heat and struck her head while riding. She is a guest of the Harrington’s.”
Mable Schelling and Isabel Harrington had a long-standing feud concerning a disrespectful comment over a dress that stemmed back to when the two women were young. Mable, who regarded her fine Southern upbringing as a virtue, would never allow that feud to come between her and the beautiful young woman resting on her divan who was in a dire state. In the same breath, Jon knew Cordie would never come up in conversation since his mother and Isabel were not on the best of speaking terms.
“Hannah,” Mable called out. “Fetch a fresh pitcher of water from the spring and a handful of lavender.”
“Thank you for your kindness, Mrs. Schelling. I am deeply obliged.” Cordie glanced at Jon, waiting for him to give her some sort of signal that she was at least semi-convincing.
“So you are related to the Harringtons, then?” Mable pressed, hoping to gain a bit of insight into the young woman.
“No, mother, Cordelia is just visiting.”
“Jon, you know better than to bring a young woman into this house without properly introducing her.”
His lips parted as Jon prayed some sort of fabrication would come forth and save them both.
“Pardon your son, Mrs. Schelling, but we had not advanced that far in our conversation. Jon was more concerned about my well-being. My name is Cordelia Ambrosia Foxworth.”
Jon nearly crossed his eyes, not realizing it nearly was her name, at least it had been names from Cordie’s family. Her grandmother’s name was Ambrosia Foxworth on her mother’s side of the family.
“Foxworth, what an odd surname,” Mable remarked.
“It is English, ma’am. Perhaps you know my nanna, Lady Genevieve Foxworth of Dillingham?”
Cordie quickly searched her thoughts, hoping she was remembering the family history correctly and hadn’t mucked it all up in the process.
“Cordelia, I cannot say I recollect that family name, but it has been some time since we traveled frequently to Dillingham.”
A small sigh escaped Cordie as she remembered Dillingham was one of the towns completely destroyed by Sherman on his march. It was never rebuilt and her mother’s family relocated to the Savannah area.
“Hannah, what is taking you so long?” Mable shouted just as Hannah was turning the corner.
“I swear, Miss Mable, sometimes you have the patience of a bull trying to get out of a pen.”
Jon lowered his head, smiling, which caused Cordie to grin.
Mable took the piece of linen, dipped it into the lavender infused water, and wrung it out before placing it across Cordie’s head.
“Will you be visiting long,” Mable asked.
“I am staying with friends of my family for an undetermined amount of time while my parents are abroad.”
“Her father sells Cypress, mother,” Jon added, hoping to take a bit of the stress away from Cordie. “Her mother and father are in England presently.”
“Well, you certainly had a lengthy conversation before you carried her here, Jon. Were I a betting woman, I would say this little philly has captured your eye.”
“Why Mrs. Schelling, that is a might dreadful assumption on your part. What if I am betrothed?” Cordie said, sitting forward, and pretending her honor had somehow been blemished by what Mable said. It was, of course, a test on Mable Schelling’s part to see what type of upbringing Cordelia had.
“Please accept my apology, Cordelia. A mother cannot be too careful who her son turns an eye toward.”
Mable eased Cordelia back as Jon winked at her. So far, she had been convincing.
Once Mable left the room, Cordelia motioned for Jon to lean closer. “How are you going to get me back? The last thing I remember is looking in that old mirror. I don’t know how to get home, and I can’t really go next door and tell them.”
“What did the mirror look like?” Jon whispered.
“It was tall and oval with a bunch of little cherubs carved around it. Why?”
“Because I think I know how to get you home.”
Four hours later, Cordie found herself sneaking through the field toward Whispering Oaks with her hand tightly placed in Jon’s under the pretense he was escorting her home to the Harringtons.
“The mirror is in the hidden room,” Jon whispered. “Do you know where that is?”
“I do.”
“I will distract Mr. and Mrs. Bolivar so you can sneak in the side door. I pray this works, Cordie, because I sure do not know how to explain this if it does not.”
A part of Cordie was torn about leaving. She was afraid she would somehow lose Jon once she returned.
“What if I can’t see you once I go home?”
“You will be able to see me, Cordie.”
“How can you be so certain, I mean, what if this was a one-time deal and I never see you again?”
Jon stopped and placed his hand on Cordie’s cheek before he kissed her. His kiss was soft and gentle, without any motive hidden behind it like either of the two boys Cordie had kissed at school in New York when she was dating. It was just a kiss, a beautiful, gentle kiss.
“You will. I promise,” Jon whispered.
“I don’t believe you. I think you know this is the last time I will ever see you.”
This time, Cordie leaned forward to kiss Jon. She knew it was not what a lady of the South would do, but right now she didn’t care what he thought.
“Are all Yankees so forward?” Jon whispered, smiling.
“Some are when they care about someone.”
“You see, that is how I know you will be able to see me, Cordelia, once you return home.”
“Because of a kiss? This isn’t Sleeping Beauty,” Cordie whispered, then blushed. It was a fairytale, it was her fairyta
le, and Jon was the man of her dreams.
“I know you will be able to see me because I am falling in love with you.”
Her heart soared and broke in the same instant. Cordie had grown fond of Jon and their time spent under the old Live Oak in the center of the field. She always listened at night for the haunting melodies of his harmonica as she drifted off to sleep. She knew loving him meant she had to leave everything behind, including her Aunt and her Uncle who were now the only family she had.
“Come on, we had better get going,” Jon whispered as his hand searched for hers in the darkness.
“Is that what you want? You want me to leave?” Cordie asked with tears welling in her eyes.
“There is no greater wish I could hold in my heart but for you to stay, but that I cannot ask of you. We each have our own destiny, Cordie. Yours is not yet fulfilled.”
He led Cordie to the side of the house, then Jon walked to the front door and knocked.
“Mr. Bolivar, it is Jon Schelling. I am sorry it is so late, sir, but our horse has gotten loose. I wondered if you might have seen her?”
As soon as Cordie heard the Bolivars speaking with Jon, she opened the side screen door and slipped inside where she waited until she knew it would not draw attention then Cordie pushed on the wall and stepped into the hidden room.
“I sure hope this works,” she whispered as the piece of burlap fell away from the mirror. Cordie took a deep breath and stepped in front of the mirror, then knelt down so she could see her reflection. “Please take me home, and please God, don’t take Jon away from me too.”
“Jesse, she’s awake,” Sadie shouted.
Cordie sat forward, holding her head. It didn’t hurt as bad as it had when she awoke in the field, but the headache was still there.
Must be the result of time travel, she thought.
“You gave us quite a scare, little lady,” her Uncle Jesse said as he entered Cordie’s bedroom.
She looked down to see she was still wearing the dress. “Can I take this off now?” Cordie asked.
Sadie rushed to undo the buttons on the back of the gown and unlace the corset.
“What happened?” Cordie asked. “Did I faint or something?” She paused to look at her Aunt Sadie.
“Yes, sweetheart, you did. Jesse was just about to call the doctor.”
“Oh, I’m sorry Aunt Sadie. I didn’t mean to ruin your night.” Cordie paused to look out her bedroom window at the old oak tree. “Was I out very long?”
“It took us about a half an hour to bring you around,” Jesse said as he sat on the edge of the bed. “You don’t remember anything?”
“No,” Cordie lied. “I just remember stepping off the last step as Aunt Sadie introduced me. I feel like an idiot.”
Jesse left the room as Sadie helped her niece remove her clothes, change into her sweats, and then hung the dress in the closet. Cordie nearly sighed. She was grateful her aunt wasn’t taking it to her room where it would be harder to get to unseen.
“How old is that mirror in the room?” Cordie asked.
“It belonged to your great-great grandmother. Why do you ask?”
“I don’t know. It just sort of reminds me of one mom bought at a flea market in New York. It used to sit in the foyer.”
Sadie looked at Cordie knowing how hard this had been on her.
“Why don’t we have your Uncle bring it to your room? Maybe we could hang it in here? What do you think?”
Cordie smiled, but not too big. She didn’t want her aunt to know she really wanted that mirror in her room.
“That would be nice.” Cordie laid back on the bed and turned onto her side so she could see out the window.
“I don’t know what I was thinking. This was just too much too soon. You rest, Cordie, and I will bring up your dinner.”
“Thanks, Aunt Sadie.”
Cordie stared out the window wondering if she would ever see Jon again. She had been with him for nearly eight hours. It didn’t seem possible she was only unconscious for thirty minutes.
“Maybe time travel works differently,” she whispered before standing and walking to the door to open it. “I think I love you too, Jon Pembroke Schelling. I think I love you too.
Chapter Thirteen
Revisiting Petulia
Cordie could hardly wait for math class to end. She wanted to talk to Cricket and find out if she could talk with her aunt. The second hand on the clock ticked slowly, much slower than normal, or that was how I felt.
Finally the bell sounded. Math was her last class before lunch. Cordie ran to her locker, tossed her book bag inside, and set out to find Cricket.
Once in the lunchroom, Cordie saw Cricket at their usual table in the corner. The two girls always ate alone, which didn’t really bother Cordie in the least. She liked the fact Savannah Oaks didn’t have the pressures of New York. There was no real push to fit in or be a cheerleader or a jock. Everyone just kind of did their own thing. If this had been New York, Cordie knew she would have been the laughing stock of the entire school. Here, she was just the new girl, who was kind of quiet, and hung out with Cricket. Savannah Oaks was becoming her home, strange as it sounded.
That was not to say she didn’t miss New York. There were lots of things Cordie missed about the city. She could take a cab or the subway anywhere, the bagels were to die for, and no one could make cheesecake like the family owned Rissola’s Place on the corner. There was something to living a Southern life, something that Cordie was starting to appreciate, it was called family.
Cordie anxiously waived at Cricket, grabbed a sandwich off the rack, and ran to sit at the table.
“So, do you think I could talk to your Aunt Petulia about the Schelling House again?” Cordie asked before taking a bite of her egg salad sandwich.
“I don’t see why not. She really liked you, by the way.” Cricket leaned closer to Cordie so no one would hear what she was about to say. “Did you see him again, cute Jon?”
“Yes. Oh Cricket, why am I falling for a guy who I can never be with in the first place?”
“But you told Petulia he was real to you, right?”
Cordie wasn’t about to tell Cricket what happened. She knew Cricket would think she was crazy.
“Yeah, he did seem real that night. This so overwhelming, I mean, how could he be real, Cricket?”
She just wanted to shout it out to her and tell Cricket the truth, but she would think Cordie was crazy as a loon.
How can I possibly tell her I’m falling in love with a ghost? A ghost whose house I just happened to go to Saturday by stepping through another dimension? Lord, even I think this sounds nuts! Cordie thought while staring at Cricket, too afraid to tell her what was rolling around in her head.
“He must be really dreamy,” Cricket said, leaning forward and crossing her arms on the table. “Aunt Petulia says that’s stardust.”
“What?” Cordie said, laughing.
“When a girl gets that dreamy look on her face, she says that’s stardust.”
“Oh,” Cordie says and laughs. “So, could we maybe go by her place after school?”
“Sure. We can today if you want. It’s Monday and mom is working late, so I usually go to Petulia’s for dinner. She won’t mind an extra guest.”
“Great, I’ll call my mom.” Cordie stopped mid-sentence. It was a normal reaction and she said it without thinking. “I mean, I’ll call my Aunt Sadie and let her know.”
Choking back the tears in front of Cricket was hard. Her life was becoming settled in Savannah Oaks, so settled it felt like home. Now it felt like she was betraying her mother and father’s memory because she was starting to feel normal again.
“Hey,” Cricket said, laying her hand ontop of Cordie’s. “It’s cool. I know what you meant.”
Cordie forced a smile as Cricket changed the subject.
“So, I have to tell you I’m a bit jealous.”
“Of what?”
“I’ve lived here my whol
e life and can’t find a great guy. You move here and in a month have the perfect dream at your fingertips.”
“Yeah, too bad he’s a ghost,” Cordie said in attempt to shrug off Cricket’s statement, though it was true.
“Sooo, have you snuck in the house yet?”
“No! That would be trespassing.”
“Oh come on, Cordie, it’s only trespassing if someone lives there. I think we should check it out. Petulia says it’s been boarded up since we were born. Wonder if all their stuff is still inside?”
Cordie took another bite of her sandwich. The truth was everything was there, just the same as it had been when she stepped across time, and landed in the field. Not one piece of furniture was gone. It was all waiting, covered in drop cloths, for someone to come home.
“I don’t think we should,” Cordie protested.
“We’re just going to look around. It’s not like we are going to steal anything. I am kinda interested, aren’t you?”
“Yeah, I guess.” Cordie did her best to discourage Cricket, but so far, it wasn’t working.
“Cool. We’ll make a day of it this weekend. Maybe on Sunday after church.”
The bell rang which signaled the girls to head to class. Cordie sat through the rest of the day watching the clock as the minutes seemed to tick painfully slow. Finally, when the last bell of the day sounded, she ran to her locker, and grabbed the books she needed. Then she called her Aunt Sadie.
“Hello.”
“Oh, hi Uncle Jesse, where is Aunt Sadie?”
“She had another meeting with the Daughters of the South. You aren’t sick are you? Is everything okay?”
Cordie was silent. Jesse knew his niece was beating herself up over what had happened a few days ago and that she somehow ruined her aunt’s big moment.
“What did you need, sweetie?”
“Oh, yeah, I was calling to see if it was okay if I ate dinner at Cricket’s house tonight?”
“Sure, honey, just be home before eight when your aunt gets home.”
“Thanks Uncle Jesse!”
“So are we a go?” Cricket asked as she leaned against the locker next to Cordie’s.”
House at Whispering Oaks Page 6
