Antique Mirror

Antique Mirror

A short

By

D. F. Jones

Copyright
2015 D.F. Jones, all rights reserved.

Notes:

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form, including, but not limited to, any electronic forms, and information or storage systems without the explicit written permission of the author.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is completely coincidental.

Dedication

To my mother, Earlene

Rockvale, Tennessee 2015

“Maybe this wasn't a great deal, after all,” Victoria said, talking to herself as she navigated her silver Jeep down the narrow driveway that was in need of serious attention. The driveway seemed to go on forever until the property finally opened up to a meadow; there it was—the cozy cabin in the woods.

Victoria sucked in a deep breath as she looked around the small farm. Wild daisies were scattered throughout the property and a white picket fence enclosed the small yard. A trellis of roses climbed both rock fireplaces on either end of the cabin. There was a covered front porch with stained glass windows over the door. Tori noticed a small barn with a red, tin roof, and a split-rail fence that ran along the perimeter of the property.

Oh, this was too good to be true.
Victoria stepped out of her Jeep and put on her professional smile; it was show time.

At twenty-eight, Victoria Frost was a successful artist in Nashville with her naturalist representations of landscapes and abstract still lifes. Tori’s skillful painting technique created an illusion of texture with bold colors. She had sold nearly all of her big pieces at the Heart and Soul Gala for Vanderbilt Children’s Hospital.

Many local art dealers around the Nashville area had indicated to Max Dupres, Tori’s agent, that they would be willing to host fundraisers and galas if she had her very own studio and gallery. An art barn would be ideal to rent out for a variety of events while displaying her art for sale.

Tori had been dreaming of a place like this to work, hike and be at one with nature. Hell, she might even buy a dog.

The Realtor nearly crushed Tori’s fingers with his handshake. “Victoria Frost, I’m Andy Crenshaw, Crenshaw Realty. So glad you found it. There was another couple who just left here, and they loved the place.”

Oh, please, not that old sales ploy.
“My friends call me Tori, and if someone else is interested, I’ll go. There’s
another property in Leaper’s Fork I’m looking at this afternoon.” Tori turned to
leave. Her inner diva was doing a fist pump.

Andy stepped around in front of her and hastily replied, “Ah, now Tori, surely you’ll take a look at the property while you’re here. The couple was interested, but I don't think they’ll qualify for the loan.”

Tori turned and entered the cabin. She stood in the foyer for a few minutes to get a feel for the place. There was a gorgeous antique chandelier hanging overhead and two huge rooms flanked either side of the foyer. Each room had a rock fireplace and oak mantle. The corners of the mantles had been carved with an ornate design of vines and small flowers.

A beautiful antique mirror with a dark walnut frame hung over the fireplace in the room to the right, and she could picture her bedroom in there. Tori mentally placed her bed in the corner and a chaise next to the fireplace. There was a double window that offered a view to the front of the property and a window on the other side, giving her a view of the back of the farm.

The cabin had superb trim work and also had recessed lighting, a feature Tori loved. The main living area had cedar bookshelves. Tori was glad the cabin was all on one floor because she hated climbing stairs. The current homeowners had built a new addition to the cabin that held a sitting room and a brand new kitchen with stainless steel appliances and black granite countertops. This place was a steal at $160k.

“I’m interested, but I need a PDF sent to my email with a house inspection. I’ll offer $145k in cash if the house is sound. What about the barn? May I see it?” Tori looked at the Realtor’s eyes and knew he was salivating for a sale.

“The barn was renovated for horses. It has electricity, running water, and a bathroom. Do you ride?” Andy smiled at Tori.

The barn sealed the deal. The opening in the back of the barn overlooked a hollow and a pond. She could hire a contractor to turn the barn into her studio if the seller took her offer. “Well, my offer stands, Andy.”

“Miss Frost, I’ll present your offer to the homeowners, but I think you may have a deal.”

***

Two weeks later, Tori had moved all of her belongings into the cabin. She also adopted a full-grown black Labrador she named Jett because her mom had been a huge fan of Joan Jett. Tori had adopted Jett to stave off her loneliness because she missed her parents so much. They had died nearly five years ago in a massive flood that had hit Nashville. Terry and Sarah were in their car on the interstate when the flash flood had swept them away into a steep ravine. Tori still couldn’t believe they were gone. Her parents had left her well-off, but that was her rainy day money. It was her insurance policy in case her art didn’t work out.

Tori’s cell rang, startling her. She wiped the tears from her eyes as she looked at her reflection in the antique mirror. “Yello. Tori Frost, speaking.”

Max, who was also a good friend, was on the line. He said excitedly, “Tori, darling, your smaller pieces have sold for a small fortune. You have a gift, girl, and now New York has noticed. The Columbus Art Gallery wants you to do a show. This could be it, beloved.” It was nice to have Max looking out for her.

“Maxey, darling, I just moved. It’ll be at least two months before my studio is ready. I’ve set up a makeshift studio in my breezeway. Please see if they will book me for next summer, maybe late July.” Tori walked over and sat down on the plush chaise that reminded her of a favorite teddy bear she had, growing up. It was dark brown and very soft. “And hey, when are you coming to see my new place?”

Max sighed and then replied, “Now, don’t get your panties in a twist. I’m planning to drive out Halloween and spend the night. We’ll tell ghost stories and drink merlot—and lots of it.”

“I can’t wait to see you. You know I love you more than my liver.” She giggled and then glanced up at the antique mirror hanging over the fireplace in her bedroom. Tori rubbed her eyes and blinked several times. A man was staring down at her from the other side of the mirror. Jett nudged her hand, and she briefly looked down at her dog. When she looked back up at the mirror, the man was gone.

“Tori, Tori, are you still there? I’m talking to you. Hello?” Maxey sounded hysterical.

“Maxey? Do you believe in ghosts?” Tori’s tongue was so dry it stuck to the roof of her mouth and the room became quite chilly. She grabbed the quilt off the back of the chaise and draped it around her shoulders.

Tori heard the panic in Max’s voice. “What the hell is going on, Tori? You’re scaring the crap out of me.”

Tori shivered as she stared at the mirror. “I guess I’m going batshit crazy because I swear a well-built, handsome man was just looking at me from the other side of my mirror. I need a dirty martini, extra dirty.”

“Handsome man? Oh now, that’s right down my alley, ghost or not. Share, please. What did he look like?”

Tori walked over to the mantle to get a better look at the mirror. Specks of silver were missing from the glass, but it only added to the mirror’s charm. “He’s gone. That’s so weird. I’ve had a glimpse of a shadow once or twice walking by the mirror in my bedroom, but this time, a man was staring at me. He looked to be around my age with silky, golden hair, and I think his eyes were hazel, maybe a light brown. No idea how tall, but my god, Maxey, he had a red and black checkered flannel on like the Brawny guy.
Gorgeous
. I definitely need a man; it’s been way too long and now, apparently, I see things.”

Tori heard a deep laugh resonating from within the looking glass. “Holy shit, Max, now I’m hearing things. I think I just heard him laugh. Maxey, come out tonight,
please.
I need a drink.” Tori turned and swiftly made her way into the kitchen, laid her phone down and clicked on the speaker. She grabbed her martini shaker from the freezer and mixed a rather strong drink. “Do you think I’m losing my mind out here in the sticks?”

“No, but I do think you’re overworked and very tired from the move. Sometimes our minds can play tricks on us. Honey, I wish I could come out tonight, but I can’t. I have plans to go to Dirk’s soiree. I love you, darling, but I can’t miss it. Besides, I work for other artists, not just you.
Although
, you are my favorite chicken.”

Tori took a sip of her cocktail, picked up her phone and walked back into her bedroom. “And you’re my Tennessee lamb. It was probably my imagination playing tricks on me anyway, with this cabin being so old and all.”

Max said, “Got to go, precious. Ta-ta, pookie!”

“Have fun tonight, Maxey.” Tori pushed the end button on her cell and laid her phone on the table next to the chaise. She looked up at the mirror. Did she really see and hear a man in her antique mirror? Or had she finally snapped?

After her second martini, Tori relaxed and felt a pretty good buzz coming on. Jett climbed on the chaise with her, and she began rubbing his ears. “You are no guard dog.” She took another sip, and then she heard laughter again.

Tori knew she should be scared out of her wits, but she was intoxicated enough to be brave. Tori bellowed out into the room, “Okay, Mr. Hottie, or whomever the hell you are. I hear you, and I’ve seen you.” She shook her fist at the mirror. “Show yourself, because I’ve paid too much money for this place to pack it in and leave.” Tori didn’t expect a reply. She had been used talking to herself for a long time.

The good-looking man appeared back in the mirror and looked down at her with a smirk.
Aw, hell.
A tingling sensation shot down her spine, and she smiled in spite of herself. The ghost was effing hot, and she wondered what it would be like to touch those incredibly sexy lips. Hell, forget just touching—she wanted to kiss them.