Изменить стиль страницы

Tracy added her carton to the building pile of boxes in the entry and brushed her honey colored bangs out of her gray eyes. “Daddy bought the building this summer and it took some convincing, but he finally crumbled and gave me the penthouse for the year.” She crossed the room. “Wait ‘til you see what we’ve got.” She swung the doors of the big mahogany cabinet open, revealing a state of the art entertainment system culminating around the fifty-inch plasma television in the center.

“Holy shit!” Jennifer stared at the high tech system—knobs for this, buttons for that, and all the bells and whistles a girl could ask for.

“This is our dream place.” Tracy’s eyes danced with childish joy. Her hair shimmered in the sunlight. “Look around,” she said over her shoulder, and disappeared from view.

Jennifer wandered through the apartment. In addition to the sprawling living room, a kitchen that could only be categorized as a chef’s wet dream sat to the right of the entry and monogram nameplates adorned the bedrooms in the hallway on the left. At the end of the hall stood a common dressing room and a bathroom torn right from the pages of Architectural Digest.

She ran her fingers over her gold monogram and a chill crawled up her spine. Her vision transitioned to a shaded red, like blood dripping over the lens of a camera. She shuddered, shaking the bizarre hallucination away, and blinked at the glimmering script that mocked her sudden wave of fear.

Drawing a deep breath, she closed her eyes and swung the door open. Jennifer let her breath out slowly and stepped inside, opening her eyes.

Definitely over the top. Smooth cherry furniture, canopy bed, satin and silk in shades of powdered blue adorned the bedroom, sprinkled with accents of pink here and there, including light sheer curtains billowing gently in the breeze of the open windows along the back wall.

She crossed to the door in the far corner, opening it with curiosity. Cedar drifted from the large walk in closet, enveloping her, reminding her of the woods in northern Maine.

Thick and fragrant and dangerous.

Standing in the entrance, Jennifer imagined how easy it would be to get lost when the closet was full of clothes and other things. Icy fingers tickled the base of her neck sending tingly sensations over her skull. She swung the door closed and a red flicker in the far corner caught her eye.

What the hell was that?

She yanked the door wide, her eyes scanning the closet again, but she couldn’t locate the source of the flare. The air shifted, sending a cool draft into her room. She closed the door and rubbed the newly formed bumps on her forearms, chalking the nip in the air to an over-active air-conditioner.

She glanced out the window. Brooksfield University and the surrounding mountains filled her vision and a slow smile spread across her lips. God, it’s good to be back at school. She tossed herself onto the bed with her arms spread on the lush fabric.

“Nice view.” Tracy leaned against the doorway.

“The best.” She propped herself on her elbows. “This is really ours?”

“Yup. After we finish bringing our things up, I’ll show you my room.”

“I gather that’s a hint?”

Tracy nodded and turned, walking out of the room.

Jennifer climbed off and followed her to the foyer. A dozen moving boxes lined the path to the door. “Have I really been gawking this long?”

Tracy grinned over her shoulder and pushed the button to the elevator.

An unsettling vision gnawed at the edges of Jennifer’s mind, but it was lost the moment the elevators opened. “This is going to be a fantastic year,” she said.

The whir of the descending elevator lulled the silence and they both watched the numbers on the display.

“How’s Billy?” Jennifer looked away from the bright digits crawling through their countdown.

Tracy’s face lit up. “Billy is wonderful!” She grinned like the mad hatter. “And we’ve got someone we want you to meet.”

“Come on Tracy, you know I hate it when you play matchmaker.” Jennifer stepped off the elevator and pushed through the lobby doors heading toward her car.

“This wasn’t my idea, it was Billy’s.” Tracy caught up with her with eyes wide and sincere. “He’s really a nice guy.”

Jennifer sent a warning glance, grabbed one of the two remaining boxes, and started back toward the building. The trunk slammed and Tracy’s hurried footfalls followed her into the lobby and the waiting elevator.

“Jen?” Tracy broke the silence as the doors closed.

“I’m not ready yet. I know it’s been almost two years since Tom died, but…” The engagement ring he gave her the night he died still sat in the little velvet box on her bureau at home. Open, dust ridden, like a shrine. “Not yet.” Tears filled her eyes and she blinked them away, willing herself not to cry.

“You can’t keep mourning him forever. Tom wouldn’t want that.”

“I know.” Jennifer edged around the clutter in the entrance of the apartment. “Are you gonna show me your room or what?” She changed the subject to something Tracy would latch onto like a fighting bulldog.

Tracy beamed and led her down the hall. “Ready?” She swung the door open. “Tah-dah!”

The room was decorated in soft shades of yellow and lavender, and apart from the colors, it was a mirror image of Jennifer’s—with one exception. The view.

Jennifer crossed to the window.

The mountains stared back neutrally.

“Mirror Lake,” she whispered, unaware she spoke aloud. When she turned, Tracy’s arms were laced with goose bumps, her face a peculiar shade of pale. “You okay?” she asked, and in a blink, the room disappeared.

A little girl chased a butterfly and stood perfectly still when it landed on her outstretched hand. She looked up and her smile disappeared. Her eyes darted at the thick woods surrounding her and she slowly turned, searching for the path she had followed running after the winged creature still on her hand. She bit her lower lip, and the butterfly took off. She followed, mistaking a clearing for their campsite. When she stepped from the thicket, soft moss cushioned her feet and the butterfly fluttered into the open sky.

Water shimmered, reflecting the butterfly’s winged journey against the clouds from above, the small cove lush and fragrant with spring flowers lining the edge of the pristine pond.

Curious, she wandered to a flat rock resembling a clover, crawling until she was peering over the edge at her mirror image.

The reflection altered, aging from the six-year-old to that of a young adult. A beautiful woman with honey blonde hair and grey eyes smiled back at the child on the rock.

Back in their apartment, her gaze landed on Tracy, the spitting image of the reflection in the water. Jennifer’s hand shot to her mouth, covering the short gasp of air. She pretended to yawn, covering up the initial shock of the vision.

Tracy dragged her eyes away from the lake, her face still pale.

“Are you okay?”

Tracy nodded and the color crept back into her cheeks. Her eyes looked too bright, too intense. She sat on the bed facing Jennifer, but her gaze drifted toward the window again. “The lake is haunted.”

A burst of laughter escaped but it quickly dispelled with an ‘I’m-not-kidding’ look from Tracy. “Really?” She parked herself on the bed, ready for another convoluted story, one that would explain her vision.

“There’s an old Abinaqui Indian legend about a rock in Paradise Cove that hangs over the water. They say if you kneel on it and look at the surface, you can see your future.”

“No shit!” Jennifer folded her leg under her, turning fully in Tracy’s direction.

Dimples made a brief appearance in Tracy’s cheek and she pressed on. “That part of the lake is practically impossible to get to and has been for as long as I can remember.”