Sometime Yesterday (18 page)

“Let’s go back to the part about you being certain of being a lesbian.” Van stood and beckoned Natalie closer. “C’mere and show me.” She opened her arms and held her tight before tipping her head for a kiss. Her mouth had barely touched Natalie’s when the front door slammed, rattling the stained glass panels in their frames. Van startled and drew blood when she accidently nipped Natalie’s lower lip. “I’m sorry, ” she said. “That door was locked when I got here.”

“Welcome to Natalie Land,” she said solemnly. “All spooky, all the time.”

“Where were we? Oh yes…” She spun Natalie around and nuzzled her neck. “You smell good.”

Natalie sighed against her cheek. “So, Van, you want to see my etchings?”

“Oh yeah.” Van followed her up the stairs.

*

Natalie ran outside into the dark night and pouring rain. Frantically, she looked around the overgrown yard and tried to place where the fountain should be. Thorns scraped and tore at her flesh as she pulled out brush with her bare hands. Her legs caught in the blackberry vines and she fell but did not stop tearing at the wall of weeds in front of her.
It’s here, I know it. Please, I have to find it.
She pushed back her wet hair and pulled the last branch out of her way. She’d found the fountain. The once beautiful structure was now broken, the cherub missing from his perch. There was no cheerful bubbling; the water was dark, murky, and full of dead things. Natalie fell to her knees before the wreckage and bowed her head. Thunder rolled across the sky and a crack of lightning flashed overhead and startled Natalie into a rocking motion on her knees. Heart wrenching pain churned through her, and she cried in the dark.
What was she looking for?

“Oh, honey, what happened to you?” Van dropped to her knees beside her.

Natalie looked at her and held out her hands, noticing blood for the first time. Dirt crusted under her fingernails and she was covered with nicks and scratches. “I found the fountain.” Her throat felt scratchy and hoarse. She pointed to the crumbling structure just visible under a mountain of weeds, brush, and blackberry vines. She must have dug it out when she was…what? Sleepwalking? Her hands burned and she couldn’t seem to stop crying.

“Come on. Let’s get you to the house, okay?” Strong arms lifted her from the mud.

Van’s eyes locked with Natalie’s, the steady gaze making it easier for Natalie to pull herself together. Her knees threatened to give out, but Van held her steady through the house and back to the bedroom.

In the bright bathroom light, Natalie winced at her reflection. Her eyes looked too large for her face and several scratches welted her skin. Natalie limped to the edge of the tub while Van rubbed her down with a thick towel and then started picking sticks and brambles out of Natalie’s wet and tangled hair.

This had to be the breaking point, Natalie thought. This is where Van would run. Hell, she wanted to run herself. Van held her chin gently and wiped her face.

“I woke up and you were gone.”

“How did you know I was outside?”

“I heard someone crying.”

Natalie considered the location she had found her. “But how could you have heard me from here? It’s a long ways back and it’s pouring rain outside.”

“I repeat, I heard crying.”

“I don’t remember going outside. God, I don’t even recall falling asleep.” The last thing Natalie remembered was being completely sated and entwined with Van, inhaling her scent while she contentedly stroked the arm that held her. “Ouch!”

“I’m sorry,” Van said. “Sit still. I have a few more to pull out. I think you’re going to need a bath to clean out the scratches so I can see what I’m doing here.”

“You act as if you find naked and muddy women outside in the rain every night of the week.”

“Nope you’re the first.”

Natalie thought this must be the most bizarre night of her life. She was flirting and falling for Van while having the worst nightmares she’d ever experienced. The severe contradiction of emotion was leaving her a little hysterical around the edges and she was having a hard time processing the opposing feelings. She took a couple of deep breaths. She could do this; just one step at a time was all that was required.

“Have you ever walked in your sleep before?”

Natalie shook her head then shivered. “It’s a little fuzzy, but I remember seeing Richard ripping something from Beth’s neck and throwing it out the window.”

“Did you see what it was?”

Natalie tried to focus but couldn’t quite grasp the details. “No, I just knew it was imperative that I find what was hidden out there. I was consumed with grief, like someone I loved had died.”

Van looked away and Natalie realized what she had said. “I’m so sorry.” One more ghost for her to deal with.

“It’s okay. I know the feeling. Let’s get the tub filled.” Natalie and Van went into the large shower to rinse off with the handheld attachment while the bathtub filled. When Natalie opened the door, she darted a glance to the mirror to see if there were any messages and was relieved when she saw none.

She crossed to sit back on the ledge and Van knelt between her legs, resting her forehead against hers. Natalie felt Van’s rapid pulse in their joined hands. “I’m sorry, Van. I feel stupid about this whole thing.”

“Hush. Let me hold you for a minute. You were gone and I heard crying. I think my heart stopped for a second when I saw the front door standing open.” Van brought Natalie’s hand to her lips and kissed her scratches gently. “Honey, if you wanted the yard done tonight, you could have just asked.”

And there it was, Natalie thought, her reassurance that she hadn’t scared Van away. Not yet, anyway. She laughed softly, grateful for the olive branch. “I think next time, I just might,” she said as she slipped into the water. “Oh God, that burns. I have scratches everywhere.”

“And I’m going to kiss every one of them.”

Natalie flashed on Van’s excellent kisses then admired the way her biceps flexed when she reached for the soap and washcloth to make lather while Natalie picked the last of the sticks out of her hair.

“Lay back.”

Natalie ducked under. When she surfaced she lay back on the seat, lifting a leg to check for wounds. Van held her calf and washed her feet.

“They aren’t as bad as I thought. Give me the other one now.”

Natalie braced on her elbows with both legs in the air. Van used small, circular motions to travel higher on her thighs. The sensation was incredibly hypnotic and Natalie sighed softly, opening her knees to give Van more access to continue the caresses. Her eyes closed and she willed Van to reach the flesh that quivered in anticipation of her touch.

The phone rang in the bedroom, startling Natalie into sitting.

“Who is that at this time of night?” Van asked.

Natalie felt heavy with desire but tried to pull herself out of her sexual haze. “It’s my mother.”

*

The sun was just rising when Van crept into the bathroom to get dressed. She had just enough time to go home and shower before she should be at work. She hunkered beside Natalie and kissed her gently, so as not to wake her. They had stayed up even later after Natalie’s mother suggested they burn more sage and white candles. Even so, she had serious misgivings about leaving her alone.

“Morning,” Natalie said sleepily. “Running off on me?”

“No. I just wanted to kiss your pretty face before I have to go to work.”

“It’s Saturday.”

“Best day of the week for us.” She pulled a strand of hair out of Natalie’s eyes. “Do you want me to stay?”

“I’ll be fine.” Natalie looked at the clock and groaned before she slid back under the covers. “I’m going to go back to sleep for a while.”

“Are you sure?”

“Van, I’ll be fine. Go.”

“Are artists always so grumpy in the morning?”

“Only the really good, creative ones, bye now.”

Van kissed her again, lingering. She didn’t want to leave, but her father depended on her. She kissed Natalie’s bandaged hands and backed out of the room. The hallway still held traces of the sage burned only a short time ago.

It reminded Van that there was something to guard against. The unexplained events she’d experienced had left her a little numb, a little disoriented. And, she could admit to herself, a little afraid and uneasy. Sunlight streamed in the stained glass windows, reflecting a happy rainbow of color on the hardwood, but Van still felt chilled.

When she rounded the bed of her truck, she spotted the silver hairbrush and train case she’d meant to return to Natalie. Because of all the excitement last night, she had forgotten to bring it in. Since she had already locked the front door, she went around the side of the house and left the items on the kitchen table with a note, being careful to latch the back door on her way out.

Van didn’t have too much time to worry. As soon as she’d set up the booth, the farmers market was swamped with locals and tourists. She was glad that she’d had the foresight to hire some help. It was difficult to think of darkness and hundred-year-old ghosts when the sun was bright and she heard nothing but happy chatter around her.

She took advantage of a small lull around ten thirty and called Natalie. When she didn’t pick up, she felt some apprehension, but let it go when two more customers approached. Natalie was probably still sleeping.

*

Natalie was headed to the kitchen to make coffee when the cold hit her like a sharp slap.

“Give it a rest, would you?” Natalie snapped. Her entire body hurt from her impromptu excavation of the fountain last night. She would have thought that doing another house cleansing would have, at the very least, bought her another evening free of ghosts.

She turned and saw the train case and hair brush on the table. The items that Van’s crew found yesterday after an employee had been injured. Blood energy, she thought and felt the top of her head tingle.

The instant Natalie touched the silver handle, terror snapped at her senses and she experienced a flash of someone striking down at her face with the heavy brush. She stifled a scream and threw it across the room. She took some deep breaths and tried to shake off the residual energy attached to the object. How much pain had to be involved in an event that the echoes would still be felt over a hundred years later? Her heart ached for Beth and Sarah and she felt a surge of fresh hate for Richard.

Natalie gathered some wet paper towels and sat to clean the case. The old lock broke open easily after a hard twist. She sneezed, dislodging more dirt, and uncovered fancy initials etched into the inside of the lid.
S.S
. Sarah Seeley, Natalie guessed. She carefully reached inside, ready to pull away in an instant.

The basement door slammed and Natalie snapped her hand back. She heard a woman cry out as if struck. The cry became a plea and grew louder.

“Please, please help us!”

Natalie broke out in a cold sweat. For a moment, she wished frantically for her mother, and then admonished herself to be a big girl. She finally worked up the nerve to reach back into the case, finding only an old makeup compact and small bottles whose labels had disintegrated over time. When she carefully took them out and lined them on the table, she was disappointed to find the rest of the case empty. She thought for sure she was supposed to find something significant. Maybe it was a little foolish, but was it too much to hope there might have been a key?

After emptying out the dust and dirt, Natalie was curious when she felt a slight thud, so she shook it again. Yes, there was something definitely hidden in it. Using her sensitive fingers, Natalie felt around the bottom of the lining and found the tiny spring latch.

She flinched when the bottom dropped from the case and hit the floor. She set the case aside and gathered the bundle that had fallen out. Carefully, she unwrapped what appeared to have been black silk and discovered a small diary. Sarah’s diary.

It was in remarkably good shape for being so old. Natalie was excited. She got her coffee, held the book close to her chest, and went into the living room to get comfortable.

Dear Lord, I was too late!

The Atlantic liner on which I was traveling was delayed by sea storms causing me to miss the train west. By the time I arrived, the wedding was over. I was barely introduced to the young bride before my brother pulled her away from the reception and other guests.

I was also completely unprepared for the absolute terror that Richard’s mere presence still inspires in me. My blood still runs cold at the memories of his tortuous violations of my body and spirit.

I should have stayed in Paris. Yet, how could I live with myself if I didn’t at least attempt to warn the girl foolish enough to marry the devil?

I was woken this morning by the sounds of Richard leaving the house with two large valises. I waited to see the young bride join him, but he left alone. I watched his back until he was out of sight, and it was at that moment that I heard crying.

I found poor Beth still lying on the floor of the master suite where he left her. There was so much blood! I wondered what on earth that little girl could have done on her wedding night to have my brother beat her so. The sight broke my heart, but it was the low keening that twisted in my heart and had me running to her side. I knew that sound well, and the resonance woke upon my soul the wounds still fresh under the scars that my brother bestowed upon me.