by Wendy Webb
“I’m serious, though,” he said. “We’re getting in there tomorrow.”
We. I liked the sound of that. “Okay,” I said.
“Let’s get some sleep,” he said.
Taking our glasses, he crossed the room and set them on the dresser and slipped back into bed next to me. I turned onto my side, and he spooned me, draping an arm across my waist and taking my hand in his.
I closed my eyes and wondered why I hadn’t told him about the first part of my dream. The life together. It had felt too personal, too raw to share. Was that it? No, that wasn’t it. I was shy about admitting to him that I had fantasized a life together as man and wife. Way to scare a man off. I smiled to myself.
As I lay there, replaying the scenes of that dream life with Dominic in my mind, I thought about why I would conjure that particular life in my dreams. It wasn’t a fantasy. It wasn’t pleasant, not all of it, anyway. Indeed, it seemed like a harsh life, there in a stone cottage on a windswept cliff by an angry sea. Me standing in the blinding rain, waiting for a man, the father of my children, who would never come home. He was obviously a fisherman or some kind of mariner, and had been lost out there. Why would I conjure that up?
It had been so real. I could picture him in that angry, dark, roiling water, taking his last breath before going under, perhaps thinking of me at the end. Tears stung the backs of my eyes as I felt the love, the great, enormous love we had shared. The magnitude of the loss of it was unbearable.
And yet, it was just a dream. I didn’t really live it. Dominic and I were in the first stages of falling in love—at least I was. I had to admit that to myself. I was falling for this man. I wasn’t sure how he felt, but it seemed to me he was falling for me, too.
But in the dream, it was like we were soul mates. I had never had that kind of love with anyone. I knew it existed because my parents had found it with each other. But as for me, that kind of deep love had been elusive. It was one of the reasons I had left my longtime relationship. I felt that maybe my great love was out there somewhere, waiting for me to find him.
Had I found him? Was that what my dream was trying to tell me?
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Sunlight shining in from the window awakened me. I stretched and reached out. Dominic was gone. The bed was empty.
My stomach seized up for a moment, but then I remembered. He had said he had a busy day ahead . . . hadn’t he? In any case, I could be assured Lake Superior hadn’t swallowed him up. He was fine, off doing whatever he had to do.
I yawned and saw Dominic had set his electric kettle, the French press, and a bag of coffee on the dresser. I slipped out of bed, filled the kettle with water, and intended on plugging it in, and then thought, no. I’d shower and start my own day. Maybe get out of the house entirely and grab some breakfast someplace in town.
I opened the door and stepped out into the hallway, my head foggy from all the dreams the night before.
“Oh! What do we have here?” It was Jason, eyebrows raised, smiling from ear to ear.
I let out an audible groan. I had hoped to make it across the hall without anyone seeing me come out of Dominic’s room.
“I’m just going back to my room to get some half-and-half for my coffee?” I tried, my voice cracking.
“Right,” Jason laughed. “Honey, you’re so busted. I saw the man leave half an hour ago.”
I dissolved into laughter, too. “Of course I couldn’t do this walk of shame without anyone seeing me.”
“Shame? I’d be shouting it from the rooftops. If I were single, I’d have been after him, too,” Jason said as he headed to the stairs. “Well played, Brynn. Well played.”
I shrugged into my room. Was this what dating was going to be like in midlife? If so, I would be permanently mortified.
I showered, changed into fresh clothes, and decided to go out for breakfast. I wasn’t sure how discreet Jason was, and I had no wish to field questions from the likes of Gary and LuAnn. Thinking about it, maybe that was why Dominic had left so early. Cover?
I avoided everyone by slipping out the back door and made my way down the street. The air smelled fresh after yesterday’s rain.
I pushed open the door to the coffee shop and found Kate and Simon standing at the counter. They both turned to me and smiled.
“Hey!” Kate said. “Join us for coffee?”
In a few minutes, the three of us were settled at a table by the window, sipping our coffee and chatting lightly about the weather. But both Kate and Simon didn’t seem like themselves. An undercurrent of apprehension was simmering. Simon kept glancing out the window, up toward Harrison’s House.
“Is everything okay at the inn?” I asked, looking from one to the other. “I don’t mean to pry, but you left happy hour in a hurry. And the police sirens . . .”
Simon and Kate exchanged a glance.
“We’re here avoiding the media,” Simon said, elongating the last word. He took a sip of his coffee and winced. “We abandoned Jonathan like the cowardly cousins we are. Normally, I’d love for the media to be swarming around me. Not this time.”
“Media?” I asked, raising my eyebrows. “What happened?”
Kate sighed. “You’ll find out anyway, so we might as well tell you,” she said, shaking her head. “A guest died. It’s going to spread around town like wildfire today, what with every news station in the vicinity on our doorstep.”
A tendril of dread crept its way up my spine as a dark thought seeped in. “The media would not be dispatched to a small-town inn because a guest died of natural causes. Would they?”
Simon ran a hand through his hair. “Jonathan found her in the ballroom. He is completely traumatized. It’s like he went into the sewer and saw Pennywise. I think he’s milking it a little, to tell you the truth. The man has always had a flair for the dramatic. Every time he gets sick, he’s Camille lying on a fainting couch. And now, finding a body? He is in a faux catatonic state.”
I couldn’t help smiling. “It’s not Bridezilla or her mother?”
“That’s a lovely thought,” Simon said, “but no. It was an elderly lady. She was staying alone for the weekend. First-time guest. Lovely woman.”
“So, how did she . . . you know. Die?” I gulped.
“Nick’s investigating,” Kate said.
“Why? It wasn’t natural causes?”
“The coroner hasn’t determined the cause of death yet. Like Simon said, she was in the ballroom. But . . .”
“But, what?”
Simon and Kate exchanged a glance.
“She was lying in the middle of the floor with her hands folded across her chest,” Kate said.
“Like she was in repose,” Simon added, raising his eyebrow.
I shuddered. “Well, that’s creepy.”
“Nick thinks she was posed,” Kate said, her voice low.
“She had to be,” Simon said, leaning in. “It’s not like you’re having the odd heart attack or stroke, and then, at that moment, you think, ‘Wait, let me just lie down here and fold my hands neatly!’ You’re just falling down any which way.”
“Very true,” I said. “But I’m not crazy about the implications. I mean, who would do that?”
“Exactly,” Simon said. “I want to kick everyone out of the inn. All the guests. Can we do that? On the off chance somebody’s a killer.”
“No,” Kate said. “We can’t do that. But I know what you mean. Someone in the house, either a guest or an intruder, posed her like that.”
“The police”—Simon looked pointedly at Kate and narrowed his eyes, and I knew he was talking about Nick—“questioned all of our guests. It’s like we’re in an Agatha Christie novel.” His tale was cut short by Jason, Gil, and Alice coming through the door.
“Hi, kids!” Jason sang out, steering Alice over to our table. “Honey, you sit here with Brynn for a minute while we pick up our lunch.” Then, turning to us, he said, “We’re headed out on the boat. I thought a picnic on one of
the islands would be fun.”
As he and Gil made their way up to the counter, Alice sank into the chair next to me. I took her hand. “Good morning,” I said to her. “A boat ride sounds like fun.”
She held my gaze for a moment. “You’re tired today,” she said.
I smiled. “Do I look it? I thought I did a good job covering it with makeup.”
“Don’t be silly, darling,” Simon piped up. “You look beautiful.”
But Alice shook her head. “You’re exhausted. Time traveling will do that to you. You did a lot of it last night. I can see it, time, hovering in the air all around you. It won’t be the last time.”
Both Simon and Kate were staring openmouthed, Simon holding his coffee in midair, halfway to his mouth. I didn’t know quite what to say.
“I had a night filled with vivid dreams,” I finally said to them, glancing at Alice. “She’s right, I’m really tired today.”
“Oh, dear Lord, please, not another one who has vivid dreams here in Wharton,” Simon said, causing Kate to choke on her coffee. “I’ve had enough of that to last a lifetime. There is something about this town that brings it out.”
“Dreams can do that,” Alice piped up. “They’re not just your imagination.” She was quiet for a minute, studying my face. “You love him. I can see that hovering around you, too. He’s not who you think he is. He’s more dangerous than you think he is. But he is your true love. For better or for worse.”
I stared at her, my stomach seizing up. What did she mean by that?
Jason and Gil snaked their way from the counter through the tables to us, carrying a couple of bags and three big bottles of water. “Okay, honey, it’s time to go!” Jason said.
“It’s time to go,” Alice parroted, pushing herself up from her chair. She turned to Simon. “You don’t have to worry about any of your other guests. There was no crime. Death came for her. Your lady. It was her time to go, that’s all. There was nothing you could have done.”
Simon stared at her.
“She didn’t suffer. It was quite pleasant, actually. Death is coming for me, too,” Alice said. “Technically, death is coming for all of us. But for me, it will be soon. I’m not afraid.”
Gil caught my eye, and we exchanged a charged glance as Jason led Alice away from our table. The bell on the door chimed as they left the coffee shop and it closed behind them.
Simon, Kate, and I sat there in silence for a bit.
“Well, that was unusual,” Simon said, raising his eyebrows and taking a sip of his coffee.
I took a deep breath and told them the whole story of how Alice had been saying rather odd, prophetic things to me. Gil, too.
“What does Jason think?” Simon asked.
I shook my head. “According to Gil, he won’t acknowledge it,” I said. “They got into a fight about it, actually.”
“Not surprised.” Simon sniffed. “Jason is a very ‘everything’s fine!’ type of person. Plus, he’s grieving. As we all know, grief can mess with you.”
He wasn’t kidding.
“What do you think?” Kate asked.
“I don’t have any idea,” I admitted. “All I know is, she’s onto something. Dominic thinks it’s because she’s near the end. The veil between this world and the next is thin, and she’s sort of living in both.”
“It wouldn’t be the first time something otherworldly happened in Wharton,” Simon said, winking at Kate. “But I don’t doubt that she’s . . .” He was searching for the right word.
“Seeing?” Kate offered.
He nodded. “Exactly.” He rested his elbows on the table and leaned into me. “But enough about that. Who are you in love with? Do tell. You mentioned a Dominic just now.”
“The Illustrated Man!” Kate said. “That’s Dominic, right?”
Simon narrowed his eyes at me. “Wait, stop. Everyone stop what they’re doing right now. Earth, please stop spinning. Are you talking about that ungodly handsome man with the chest and shoulders that would make Mr. Dwayne ‘The Rock’ Johnson weep with shame? The one with all the tattoos who has been walking around town leaving a trail of women—and men—swooning on the street in his wake? Not that I’ve noticed him.”
I could feel my face heating up.
“She’s blushing,” Simon said to Kate.
“Is Alice right? Are you in love with him?” Kate asked, squinting at me. “Already? You just met the guy.”
Simon chortled. “Said Kate ‘Love at First Sight’ Granger.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Was it love at first sight with you and Nick?”
Kate smiled. “Not quite. But you might say it was love at first touch. Something weird happened the first time I held his hand. I saw our whole future laid out in front of me.”
“A future with the living embodiment of Eeyore, revealed to her in one horrific instant,” Simon added. “And she went for it.”
Kate burst into laughter. “He is not!”
“Okaaay,” Simon said, rolling his eyes at me. “You’re laughing because you know it’s true.”
“Simon thinks he’s too serious,” Kate said, wiping her eyes. “He’s a police chief! Of course he’s serious.”
“Brooding,” Simon said. “The man broods more than a hen.”
“But you fell for him right away,” I said, holding Kate’s gaze. “It’s not so crazy, then,” I said.
“It wasn’t crazy for me.” Kate smiled. “It felt completely right.”
“Oh, this Nick-Kate affair is old news,” Simon said, waving his hand. “I want to hear about you and the sexiest man alive. How, what, when, where, why.”
I had told Kate a bit about Dominic during our lunch on the island the other day, but I filled Simon in about meeting him at the showers and having coffee in the mornings. Our day at the beach. The fish boil. I told them about his passion for helping people better their lives, leaving out the more personal details. And I certainly didn’t mention the night before.
“It’s weird,” I said finally. “I just met him. But it feels like I’ve known him forever. The dreams Alice mentioned? She was right. They were about him. And traveling in time. I dreamed of Dominic and me, living as man and wife in a different place and time.”
All at once, Kate wasn’t laughing. “What place and time?”
I cast my mind back to the dream. “I’m not quite sure,” I said. “But judging by what we were wearing, I’m going to say about one hundred-ish years ago. Give or take. And in terms of the place, it seems like it was in England, on the ocean. Very windswept and rocky.”
“Tell me more,” Kate pressed.
Tears stung at the backs of my eyes. “It was like scenes of a life,” I began. “Snippets of happiness. Us laughing together. Loving each other. Being together. He came home to me. We lay in bed laughing. I watched him teaching our children how to tie nautical knots.”
“Then what happened?” Kate asked, leaning in.
My throat seized up. I looked from one of them to the other. “He died.” My voice was thin, not wanting to say the words out loud. “He drowned in the raging, angry sea.”
All of me wanted to burst into tears, right there at the table. The grief was so palpable. But I held it together.
“It was only a dream,” I said weakly. “But I’ve never felt anything like the love I felt between us in that dream. Nothing close to it.”
Kate reached over and took my hand. “I know. I really do. The same thing happened to me. Well, similar. I wasn’t dreaming of myself. I was dreaming of a love between two people I didn’t know. But I had never felt anything like it, either.”
I brushed away a tear. “I woke up feeling sort of . . .” I searched for the right word. “Cheated, I’d guess you’d say. I’ve been living on this earth all this time and have never found the kind of love the people in my dream had. Or even my parents had.”
“I felt the same way,” Kate said. “But then I met Nick.”
I held her gaze for a moment. I had
just met Dominic but . . . could it be?
Kate finished her coffee and set the cup on the table. “I hate to break this up, but . . .”
Simon nodded. “I know. We really should get back. We can’t hide all day.” He turned to me. “I know this goes without saying—”
I put my hand up. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone about the woman’s death. The posing. I know nothing.”
“Thank you,” he said.
The two of them gathered their cups and placed them in the tub on the counter.
“C’mon up for dinner after the dust settles in a couple of days,” Simon said. “And bring that man of yours.”
I smiled at him. “I will.”
“You can tell him shirts are not required,” he said as they walked out the door.
I fished my phone out of my purse as I was finishing my coffee and noticed an email from my brother. I clicked on it, and several photos popped up. The Cornish countryside, the town of St. Ives, a photo of him and my dad drinking beer in a pub. But then I clicked on one that took my breath away.
“Here’s the place we’re renting for the summer!” my brother’s caption said. “Isn’t it cute! All of the houses over here have names. This is the Widow’s Cottage.”
It was the cottage from my dream.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
The Widow’s Cottage. Was I the widow? It felt insane to even think about it. But I had to know. It was nearly ten o’clock in the morning. I wanted to call my brother, but I wasn’t sure about the time difference between where I was and Cornwall, England. Six hours earlier? Six hours later? In the end, I just dropped my phone back into my purse. What would I have said to him, anyway? I dreamed about living in the cottage where you’re staying? He’d think I was an idiot.
I stared out the window for a moment, my stomach knotting up. Screw it, I thought. I retrieved my phone from my purse and dialed.
“Hey!” my brother said. “Pop and I are enjoying a beer at the local pub.”
Six hours later, then.
“Hey, Jeff. Everything going okay?” I asked.
“Here! Talk to Pop!”