Authors: Brynn Chapman
They would reach the kitchen door, see Bella smiling in her playpen, and breathe a sigh of relief. Isabella's biological parents were quite poor, had a brood of children and were trying to give their youngest daughter a better life. Anna MacBeth rarely spoke of the experience, but one night after a bottle of her favorite port, her Scottish brogue more pronounced than usual, had confided in Rae. “The house was freezing and I could see the children's breath. She looked up at me with that angelic smile, and put up her arms for me to pick her up. She was the youngest of seven, so I think she would have taken any attention she could get."
Thus, the recurring dream—making sure Bella was safe. The dreams started in the year Bella entered their home. She awoke much as she had this morning, and snuck down to Bella's nursery. The little girl was sleeping on her stomach in her crib. She was barely perceptible, except for the tuft of blond hair sticking out over the top of her blanket. Eight year old Rae was not satisfied—so she put her hand between the crib slats and placed her hand on the baby's back till she felt the rise and fall of her breathing.
Raena was shook out of her reverie by the sounds of chaos from underneath her—the shuffling of feet, the tinkling of the inn's front door bell, opening and closing of doors, and the sound of
children
.
"Oh, I'll slay the pair of them,” she said aloud and sprang out of bed. Looking over her shoulder at her bedside clock, which read eight twenty-five, she began to throw her clothes off and bolted for her bathroom.
"Sorry, Twist,” she called to the other cat as he ran out of her path. Rae stepped into the clawfooted tub as fast as she dared and turned the water on. She washed quickly and opened her closet full of an entire set of Victorian age dresses. “Couldn't we look like normal people for just one day?” she said offhandedly and donned a green gown with antique lace.
The inn was alive with activity. The dining room was half filled with patrons beginning breakfast; the library had a few children already sitting at the story table with their parents. Raena bypassed all this and headed directly for the kitchen and flung open the swinging door hard as the hired help scurried out of her way.
"Rachael! Where are you?"
"What?” came the sarcastic reply from the other side of the kitchen. Rachael stood over a waffle iron supervising the help's progress with breakfast. Her dark hair was pulled into a clip and she was not yet in Victorian attire. Her sister's blue eyes blazed as she prepared for the verbal onslaught.
"Don't work yourself into a frenzy. It's only eight forty-five and you're just angry because you thought you would miss something!"
"No. I'm angry because today was my library day and nothing is ready!"
"Bella finished it. She stole your plans from your room and she and Morgana had it prepared before she left for school."
"I suppose she was the one who turned off my alarm?"
"I assume so, unless it was the ghost of Uncle Joe, or maybe it was Dodger,” she said as she smiled maliciously and turned back to the waffles. Her sarcasm was legendary.
Raena headed directly behind her and grabbed her sister from behind in a mock headlock.
At this, Dorothy and Maude, two older women who were cooks at the inn, elbowed one another and chuckled into their frying pans.
"What are you doing?” yelled Rachael.
"What does it look like?"
"I'd say you're acting your mental age again!"
The two women began a mock fight. The twins still acted like children at times behind the scenes of the inn. Both women were physical and athletic, and had about the same level of physical comedy as Abbott and Costello.
Midfight, Bella walked into the kitchen. “Not again! Would you two get with the program! I need help out here. All the kids are here for story hour and my hostess has disappeared from the dining area!"
"It's your fault, Bella!” yelled Rae as Bella slammed the door.
"Yes, I know I'm very evil, and I'm sure that Jim Beam™ had nothing to do with it either,” was Bella's muffled reply.
Raena and Rachael followed their younger sister out the door, still pinching each other.
Chapter 4
The Daily Grind and Head Shrinkers
The Daily Grind Coffee House
was two blocks from the inn and a favorite place for many of the townsfolk to unwind after a long day. Its aromatic sitting rooms were colored with warm browns and every shade of green to further a peaceful experience.
The sisters sat drinking cappuccinos and talking about the week's events as Mozart music piped through the sound system.
Bella looked across the table at the twins and gave Rachael a meaningful look before beginning. “Rae, about the dreams—what's going on? This is becoming almost nightly now. Rachael and I think maybe you should go and see somebody about them."
"Oh really? I wasn't aware your major had been psychology in college. And what in the world do you presume Dr. Headshrinker will tell me to magically rid me of night anxiety?"
"Perhaps he'll sprinkle some magic pixie dust and then you'll sleep soundly,” retorted Bella, nonplussed by the reply. She had to listen to the two of them daily, so their sarcasm had absolutely no effect on her. Rachael's gaze met Bella's with a “good one” look.
"Or maybe he'll lace your port with something stronger and you won't have any choice but to pass out, yes?” suggested Rachael helpfully.
"Yes, all valid suggestions,” quipped Raena.
"I'm not sure Rae really needs any more port...” said Bella.
"Seriously, Rae,” said Rachael. “Do you think it's garden variety anxiety, or something else?"
"I'm not sure. I'm thinking it might be the month of November, it is a pretty significant one for us...” she trailed off at the guarded look in Rachael's eyes and suddenly felt very selfish. If her twin could handle the death of a spouse and her parents, all occurring in the month of November, who was she to get anxiety?
"Sometimes, I have the feeling something is amiss, but I can't quite put my finger on it."
"Like one of Gran Moira's fairie tales, or one of her paintings. It makes you very uneasy, but it isn't clear why,” chimed in Bella.
"Yes, that's it exactly,” said Rae.
"Okay, well, let me know if I can help in any way. Oh man, I have to fly! Look at the time! Morgana will be home already."
"Sam will take care of her,” said Bella, gathering her things.
"I know he will,” replied Rachael.
Silently, Rachael was grateful for Sam's masculine presence in their lives. Morgana's father, John, had been killed in a car accident when she was only three years old. Rachael had little interest in replacing her husband, as he had been a good man, and at present, her world was very busy between her daughter and the inn. She thought of her husband and inwardly sighed.
Raena, as if hearing her twin's thoughts, placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder and said, “C'mon, let's go! Sam's cooking tonight!"
The Macbeth and Crane families gathered around the scrubbed wood table and prayed over the food. The wine flowed, the fire crackled and talk of the day's events flowed as easily as the wine.
At last, at about six thirty, Rachael stated, “Morgana, how much homework do you have?"
"Enough,” was her guilty reply.
"That's our cue. Thanks so much for dinner, Sam. It was almost as good as mine!” cackled Rachael.
Sam ran his hands through his hair. “Ha! Go!” was his only reply.
He shut the door as the sisters and his niece raced across the lawn like three little girls.
"I thought they would never leave!” yelled Sam, running over and tackling his wife and knocking her over the back of the sofa. “It's a full moon, you know!"
"Sam ... I'm beginning to think we'll never conceive,” Bella quietly said. She suddenly looked worn and slight to him. Dark circles were forming under her blue-green eyes, and her complexion was pallid. He was becoming concerned, although he would never admit that to her for fear of escalating her anxiety. Besides, being positive helped any situation, he rationalized.
"It will happen, I'm sure of it,” he said as he wrapped his arms around her.
"How can you be so sure?” she asked quietly and laid her head on his shoulder.
"Because I've already seen her,” he said slyly with a wicked smile, “in my mind's eye. She'll have your blond hair and will be such a tiny thing, that I have to search for under the covers each morning, just like I do with you.” He began to walk toward their bedroom doing some sort of awful dance .
Sometimes in life, we feel things,
Bella thought as she stared into the fire.
And we cannot explain them. In the middle of a beautiful, sunny day, as we lift our face into the sun, we may feel dread.
Intuition, it's called. Sometimes, it's right and others it isn't, but some people definitely feel it more than the rest. Perhaps it is the ability of some to empathize with others so much, we physically feel their pain, as if it were our own.
Psychologists have a name for it, “Theory of mind.” It's a curse, really. Because I'm unable to ignore when someone needs me or when they're in pain. And we sure have enough of it in this family ...
Sam's voice from the bedroom shook her out of her reverie.
"Bella, I lit the fireplace in our room..."
"I'm coming.” And she closed her thoughts to all others except her husband, and that was a good, simple feeling.
Chapter 5
The Sleepover
The inn was at full capacity the next week, and the kitchen help arrived early to compensate for the workload. Out-of-towners from New York City were staying as a group.
Rachael shook Morgana lightly at six thirty. “Chickpea, you have to get up..."
Through Morgana's sleepy eyes, her mother looked like a vision from a 19th century novel. She was already dressed in renaissance attire and her red and gold dress shined in the morning light. Her dark auburn hair was loose around her shoulders. Her beautiful blue eyes narrowed ... “Morgana, have you lost your hearing?” Gone was the loving tone of the previous minute.
"No, Mom. What's the rush?"
"We're busy today, honey. All the rooms are full."
"Oh, Mom. Did you forget that Claire is staying over tonight? We were going to sleep in the Winter Room."
"Well, I think one pair is checking out early today ... but they're in the Autumn Room ... it's either that or nada."
"Okay, better than nada, I suppose. She's coming home after school with me."
"Alright then, head to the shower!"
Rachael quickly moved out of her suite in a flash of crimson and gold.
Raena and Bella were in the kitchen talking to the staff.
Bella said, “I heard the door chime, I'll go and seat the patrons.” She looked pale today and the yellow gown she wore actually made her skin appear jaundiced.
As she left, Rachael beckoned and whispered, “Do you think she's pregnant? She looks perfectly awful."
"I haven't a clue, but I agree that she does look poorly. Best not to broach the subject as yet. Wait till she starts retching and heading for the bathroom every half hour. That would be the clincher, I think."
"Thanks for making us the Olsen twins again, by the way."
"For pity's sake, you have to tell me what you're wearing every day. I can't help it if we always pick the same color on the same day."
The twins would frequently find themselves staring at one another upon entering the kitchen clothed in the same color dress. Although fraternal, both had auburn hair, though their eyes were dissimilar. Rachael's were sky blue and Raena's, light brown.
"I swear upon my father's house that I'm getting my hair dyed!” retorted Rachael.
"Good, why not black to match your heart?"
"And why don't you go and make yourself useful, instead of standing there trying to be me?"
"Oh my, I could never aspire to that level of darkness."
At this comment, Rachael picked up a pan and held it menacingly and Raena exited the kitchen as soon as possible. Rachael turned on her heel, and with a shake of her auburn locks, headed toward her suite to check on her daughter's progress.
Ms. Maude and Ms. Evelyn, who had observed the entire tirade, sniggered between them over the breakfast pans.
"Those two act just like they did when they were children,” said Maude wistfully.
"Yes, except when they go at it now, it tends to be more expensive that when they were tots because larger objects get broken. Easier to replace a Barbie than a Tiffany lamp."
"Oh, but wouldn't their mother be proud?” said Maude with her eyes shining brightly.
"Of what do you think Anna would be proud? The way they run the inn, or of their behavior?"
Ms. Maude and Ms. Evelyn had been working at the inn from the time the twins were two years old. They had worked for the girls’ parents and were more like family than hired help. Just then, Bella burst back into the kitchen, obviously flustered. “Enough cackling, ladies, we have a big crowd out there."
Twilight approached on Friday evening. Isabella sat at a small table in the kitchen and stared out the window which faced her cottage. “Rae, is everything under control here? Smoke is coming from the chimney. I didn't even know Sam was home yet."
"Sure, baby girl. The Owens already checked out and there's only two guests left in the dining room. Why don't you take Sam some leftovers?"
"Yeah, I will.” She began to make her husband a plate of leftover chicken marsala.
Isabella walked out the back door and onto the wraparound porch. Raena watched her walk down the cobblestone path to her home. When Bella was halfway across the yard, the cottage door opened and Sam stood smiling. Raena smiled at this, too, as she watched out the window. She softly whispered to herself, “You see, my cynical one, true love does exist. And sometimes, just knowing it exists is enough.” She closed the curtain.
The front door of the inn tinkled and Rae walked out to the foyer to see who had arrived. Rachael and a glum-faced Morgana stood in the windy foyer entrance.