The Other Side of the Mirror : Chapter 9

Very little was said between Lance and me for the next few hours. We were each deep in thought. Sensing that I needed my space, he made his way to a separate part of the house to allow me alone time to process all that I’d learned and all that he wanted of me.

When Nora finally came out of her room, she found me sitting on a lounge chair near the pool. Unlike the partiers from the day before, my body wasn’t filled with alcohol and I was feeling the cold nip in the air. Even though the pool was still ready and waiting for swimmers, I wasn’t about to use it. Instead, I’d grabbed an afghan from the back of a chair inside of the house and bundled myself into it while I breathed in the cool air and tried to think on what to do.

“Where’s Lance?” she asked as she lowered her body onto the lounge next to me. “I can’t believe I went swimming yesterday. It’s freezing.”

“That’s because it’s almost winter, silly,” I said with a smile.

She gave a short laugh. “The wonders of alcohol.”

“The wonder is that you didn’t catch pneumonia,” I said with a semi-serious scold.

“Did he tell you why he wants us to stay?” she asked as she settled back onto the lounge and crossed her legs at the ankles.

“I know why he wants me to stay, but we didn’t discuss you,” I said as I stood up and pushed my lounge chair against hers. After repositioning myself back onto it, I spread the afghan over both of us.

After thanking me, profusely, for the warmth, she cocked her head in mock thought. “Such a mystery. He doesn’t want us to rob a bank with him or something, does he? Tell me he’s not broke and this isn’t all a façade.”

“If only he just wanted us to rob a bank,” I said in a whiny tone. “I could handle that a lot better, I think.”

“Don’t leave me in suspense, Esmerelda,” she scolded. “You know how I hate it. That’s why I could never do what you do. I can’t stand mystery.”

I pulled out my cell phone.

“Who are you calling?” she asked with angst.

“My parents,” I replied as I held the phone to my ear.

My mother answered on the third ring. After exchanging a few light pleasantries, I cut to the quick.

“Mother, am I adopted?” I asked.

My mother’s gasp mingled with that of my good friend as I waited for her reply. When Nora opened her mouth to speak, I held the flat of my hand in front of her to signal that she remain quiet.

“It’s been something that we’ve debated about discussing with you for some time,” my mother said in a soft tone. “How did you find out?”

“It doesn’t matter,” I said with a heavy heart. “I just needed to know if it was true.”

Her voice reeked of remorse. “We were intending to adopt an infant, but when we saw you playing by yourself in the nursery, we just knew you were meant to come home with us. We thought that you would remember since you were older, but you didn’t and..”

“I don’t need to hear all about it, mom,” I snapped. “I just needed to know if it was true or not. I’ll talk to you later.”

I could hear the heartache in her voice as she stammered to say something else, but I hung up too quickly to hear what it was. I knew that I would have to call them back and smooth things over. I wasn’t even upset with them. Not really. They’d given me a good home with almost too much love. They were dear people who I loved immensely. It was the fact that, no matter how hard I tried to discredit Lance’s story, I just solidified it more.

“I’m so sorry,” Nora said in a voice just above a whisper.

My overtaxed mind gave her a small amount of attention. “For what?”

“You’re upset about being adopted. Right?” she asked with frustration.

I shook my head. “No. I mean, yes. No, not really.”

Nora heaved a sigh of exasperation. “What is going on?”

I decided to simply tell it like it was and deal with her reaction. It was either do it now or do it later. At some point, I’d have to deal with it.

I took a deep breath. “Okay. Here it is in abbreviated form. I’m not upset about being adopted. I’m just upset about the fact that it fits in with Lance’s story. He says that he has traveled from the nineteenth century. He claims that I’m from that time too and that we were promised in marriage, but I was stolen by a magician and sent forward in time around the age of four to prevent our marriage from happening. His family practices some antiquated tradition of making the heir to the estate marry by the age of thirty; which he’s only a few months away from. He wants me to go back in time with him so that we can get married and save his inheritance.”

“He’s from the nineteenth century?” she murmured with starry eyes. “No wonder why he talks funny.”

Of all of the reactions that she could have had, that wasn’t one that I’d even considered.

“What do you mean?” I asked. “How does he talk funny? Do you mean his drawl?”

“I haven’t heard a don’t or an ain’t or the like from him since we met. It’s all, “do not” or “I am” stuff. I thought it an odd way to speak in today’s age, but, then, I don’t generally rub elbows with the rich and famous. I figured it might be a thing with them,” she explained.

“Are you telling me that you’re more interested in the fact that he’s from the nineteenth century and talks differently than the fact that we’re in the twenty-first century?” I asked, incredulously. “Aren’t you the least bit set off balance by the news that he wants to take me back with him?”

“Permanently?” she gasped, as if the reality of the situation finally struck her.

I was beginning to find her even more frustrating than the fact that Lance’s crazy story was turning out to be real.

I shook my head. “He wants me to marry him and then he’ll send me back.”

“What a phenomenal opportunity! He’s both handsome and rich! Will you have use of the money when you come back? Will this all be yours?” she excitedly rambled as she made a swooping motion with her arm. “Will I be coming along? Is that why he wanted me to stay?” She spoke so rapidly that I couldn’t have been able to get a word in if I wanted to. “We won’t encounter ghosts will we? They scare me a little.”

I was at a loss for words and had no desire to come up with any in response to her rambling.

I looked at my friend and protruded my lower lip while I thought about how differently my trip to the old country estate had turned out in comparison to what I’d expected.

“Well, Nora, I see that you are up. Did you get enough rest?” Lance said with a smile as he came out of the house with a tray that supported a large, steaming pot of tea, a small pitcher of cream, a small bowl with freshly sliced lemon wedges, a sugar bowl, and three teacups. “It is a bit chilly, so I thought we could warm up with some hot tea.”

“You’re from the eighteenth century,” Nora squealed as she softly applauded with unabashed excitement. “How romantic!”

Her words took him by surprise and for the briefest moment he stopped walking. Then, my resilient man from the past gave a polite smile that made his eyes sparkle and set the tray down on the nearby bistro table.

“I see you to have been having a little talk,” he said. “Good. I am happy to hear that you are not frightened by the news.”

“Will I be able to go back in time too?” Nora eagerly asked.

Lance’s face grew serious and he shook his head. “I am afraid that I require your assistance here. You see, in order for me to successfully get Esmerelda back here, she will need an anchor. You, Nora, will act as that anchor.”

Nora’s brows rose. “Okay. Now you’re losing me.”

“Welcome to the club,” I muttered. Then, looking at Lance, I asked, “Do you have anything stronger than tea?”

He grinned and reached inside of his jacket to produce a small flask containing brandy. “Will this do?”

“Is there anything that you’re not prepared for?” I snapped as I yanked the flask from his hand, uncapped it, and took a long, unceremonious drink.

It was obvious that I’d hurt his feelings. Truthfully, he didn’t deserve it. It was just that he seemed so damned perfect that he mirrored back to me what an absolute wreck I was.

“Don’t mind her,” Nora said as she shot me a scowl. “She just found out that she’s adopted.”

His brows raised with encouragement and he looked directly at me. “So, do you believe me now?”

“You knew?” Nora asked without thinking.

It was Nora’s turn to suffer my foul mood. “Haven’t you been listening? Of course he knew. He’s the one who told me that I came from the nineteenth century. I was stolen at the age of four. Open your ears, will you?”

Lance place his hands on my shoulders in a gentle, but firm manner. “Esmerelda, my love. I can understand that you are upset and possibly a little in shock by this unexpected information. That, however, does not justify mistreatment of your best friend. From what I have witnessed, she has been extremely supportive of you. She deserves better from you.”

“As do you,” I sighed. Tears that I’d been doing my best to hold back released with such a vengeance that it shocked us all. “I’m sorry. Both of you. I’m so sorry,” I wailed between hiccups.

Lance stepped back as Nora wrapped her arms around me in a firm, but not confining, hug. The man was so perceptive that he even knew that what I needed at the time was to be held by the one person in the world who knew me best. He stayed close enough for me to feel his presence as my body slowly calmed down and the tears ceased.

When I was stable enough for the conversation to continue, Lance proceeded to explain to my dear friend how he intended to anchor my energy to a necklace that Nora would hold onto. When the time came for me to return, the necklace would glow. When it did, she was to hold the necklace with both hands while sitting in the nursery and saying, ‘I bring thee back to me.’

Nora remained silent as she received instructions that warranted no questions. When he finished giving them, she nodded her approval. “I can do that.”

He smiled his thanks. “Good.”

“I just have one question,” she said in a steady voice. When he looked at her expectantly, she asked, “How long will she be gone? I mean, do I have to stay in that room for days? Or, can I go home for a while?”

Still smiling, he cocked his head down in a submissive gesture. “I apologize. I should have told you that it will be days for Esmerelda, but only minutes for you.”

This time it was my turn to gasp. “Only minutes? How?”

“Time is measured by our awareness. With the use of magic, I will shift Nora’s awareness to minutes,” he explained. “Had I told Nora that you would be gone for years, then, in her awareness, you would be. I say minutes because she should not have to be inconvenienced for weeks, days, or even hours.”

“You have that kind of power?” I asked with surprise.

“I told you that I have magic in me,” he replied.

“What if I time traveled without the magic part?” I asked. “Would it still be days for me and minutes for my anchor?”

He shook his head. “It would be the same time for both.”

Nora’s grin was so broad that it accentuated the size of her nose even more. “This is so cool.”