Winter's Dream (The Hemlock Bay Series) (6 page)

“Whoa,” Minnie breathed. I reluctantly nodded my head in agreement.

“So girls,” Hazel said, clapping her hands together. “This is your home for the next, well, however long. We’ll help you get settled in and get used to the place today and then tomorrow the real work starts.” She said it with a kind smile but I could only imagine being forced to milk cows before the sun came up.

Viola moved in and whispered over my shoulder. “And we will talk to you later. Don’t discuss any of this with the other girls.”

A small movement caught my eye and I turned to the wide, arched doorway leading to what looked like a formal dining room. A girl about my age shyly came into the kitchen. With her silken blonde hair and clear blue eyes, she was beautiful despite the mauve short sleeve dress and knee-length white apron she wore.

Hazel smiled. “This is your cousin Martha; she’s been very excited to meet you girls ever since we told her.”

She smiled and looked up at us hopefully. “I’m so glad you’re here; it will be nice not to be the only young woman.”

I couldn’t bring myself to make a polite response and Minnie was too busy ogling the clean, bright room.

Martha eyed us curiously but didn’t lose her good manners. “Would you like freshen up? Shower and change?”

That was really the first good thing I had heard all day, other than Minnie was getting out of that hellhole too. If I was temporarily stuck there, I was at least going to enjoy a shower by myself and without having to look over my shoulder. “Um,” Minnie squeaked, “we don’t really have anything else to change into.”

Martha’s face lit up. “It’s okay, we have closets full of clothes and new underclothes in every size.”

Minnie shot me a startled look and I could tell she was thinking the same thing I was. Who had mass amounts of underwear in every size?

The aunts waved us off and we followed our new supposed cousin upstairs. She stopped at a closet and pulled out towels and washcloths and toothbrushes and brushes. I poked my head in and found closely spaced shelves running from floor to ceiling filled with every hygienic product imaginable.

“I coupon,” Martha said with a proud grin, as if that were an explanation.

We obediently followed her further into the house and she deposited us in bathrooms across the hall from each other. “I’ll be back with clothes,” she promised as she seemed to measure us with her eyes.

Minnie grinned at me then shut herself in her bathroom. I closed the door to my own and sagged against it, suddenly totally worn out. The day was catching up with me and I didn’t want it to, at least not until I was safely in bed and could best hide my tears.

Then I realized I was shut in a bathroom by myself for the first time in a month and the tears began to roll from my eyes. Trying to slow them was impossible, and deep, ugly sobs began working up my chest. I wrapped an arm around my face to muffle them and prayed no one would hear me.

Every hurt from the last month, from the last two months, crashed through my head and I couldn’t stop them anymore than I could stop my painful, gasping cries. I was free from juvie but not only had I not done it on my own, my dad hadn’t come for me. I was even further from my grandma and finding my brother and didn’t even know if they would care. Grandma might have forgotten me and Linc could completely hate me. He had never sent me a letter in juvie, not even a fake one from a fake friend so I would know he was okay. Even if I could still make things right with him, with all of us, nothing was ever going to be the same. Most likely they would be worse if Jordan was involved.

I let myself linger over these hurts before trying to shut them away but deep in the back of my heart one more tiny pain pulsed, making itself be felt. It hurt seeing Jordan again. I had been content to hate him for the rest of my life. Hate hurt less than a broken heart and it was safer that way too. Because despite all his lies and tricks, he had really cared for me, he had been the first one in a long time to really see me. I had thought … It didn’t matter what I had thought. Seeing him again, hearing his painful honesty and witnessing his new resolve to win me back on my terms was not good. Letting him explain he wasn’t responsible for at least the tail end of the disaster that had ruined my life was even worse. It had cooled my anger and the last thing I wanted was to not be angry at him. It was too dangerous; my interaction with him today had proven that. Once again I was caught in a web not of my own making.

When the tears finally ran their course and I was able to tuck all the pain back into the tiny box in my heart, I reached over and turned the hot water on in the claw foot tub. No more crying, especially not over him. He was definitely not the one that was going to make me want to bawl when I was even further from finding my brother and rescuing my grandmother than I had been this morning. And Minnie needed me. I wasn’t sure what I had gotten her mixed up in but I wasn’t going to let her get hurt by it like everyone else in my life had. So I wiped my face one last time, squared my shoulders and shed the ugly uniform I had been forced to wear the last four weeks.

Steam engulfed me as I stepped through the plastic curtain and hot water pulsed over my scalp and shoulders. Tension eased out of every muscle in my body and for the first time in forever a tiny smile curled my mouth up. Grime ran off my body as if it had built up in the last month of hurried, five minute showers. I scrubbed my skin raw with a little pink soap cake that smelled like roses. The shampoo had the same scent and I massaged it into my scalp twice before slicking my hair with conditioner. There was even a little pink razor in its own wrapper and I shaved the month’s worth of growth off my legs and from under my arms.

I wasn’t surprised to find a tub of rose scented cream on the vanity and spread it over every inch of my body. After not using it so long my skin soaked it in almost immediately and I generously applied more. The fog cleared from the mirror and I watched my reflection as I combed my coppery hair. Jordan had worked his subtle magic to make me look better but the shower had worked a magic of its own. The tension from around my eyes was gone and so was the seemingly permanent scowl.

Finally ready to face my new situation again, I looked for the clothes Martha had promised. Neatly folded on a stool next to the sink was a lavender pile. I shook it out to reveal a dress with short sleeves, a pair of white underwear and a white cotton bra that was surprisingly my size. The dress was definitely not my style but I didn’t really have a choice.

When I cracked the door open to my bathroom, I found Minnie peeking at me from behind hers. She giggled and opened it wider, revealing her own lavender dress. “What kind of dresses are these?” she asked. “Amish dresses?”

I suppressed a laugh and glanced up and down the hallway. Empty.

“Minnie,” I whispered. “I have something I sort of need to tell you.”

“How was the shower?” Martha chirped, appearing next to us.

I jumped but Minnie smiled. “Great!” she gushed. “You have no idea how long it’s been since we’ve used nice soap.”

Martha gave her a curious look but smiled anyway. “Would you like to see your rooms?”

“Sure,” I said, hoping to discover an easy way to escape from the house and somehow make it back to civilization.

“Rooms?” Minnie asked. Happy excitement had drained from her face, leaving it pale and pinched. “Like two? Like, I have to sleep by myself?”

Her eyes took on an unnatural shine. As close as we had become over the last month I still didn’t know the whole story behind what had landed her in juvie. She had said she set the house on fire with her dad inside but not why. From the careful way she always talked around it, I knew she might never be able to tell me.

Hoping to spare Minnie, I asked Martha, “Can she and I share a room?”

Martha was silent for a minute and I thought I would knock her perfect blonde butt on the floor if she tried to say no. “Well, there’s a room on the third floor … there are actually three beds up there … maybe you wouldn’t mind another roommate?” she asked, twisting her plain skirt in her hands.

I glanced at Minnie and her whole face was lit up. “Yes! That would be so great. I could have two girls to share a room with and not even have to worry about getting my hair cut off or getting beat up!” I groaned inwardly. I needed to get her some counseling.

Martha gave another curious look but she wasn’t being unkind, she just didn’t know. I regretted considering knocking her on the floor. She seemed nice—and lonely.

She led us to the room, giving a mini walking tour along the way. “This is part of the original house,” she began, “but as you can see the bathrooms and kitchens have been updated.” I wasn’t sure I considered antique gas stoves and claw foot tubs an update, but I kept my mouth shut. Maybe she would point out a few secret passages. “The first floor den and bedrooms and the entire third floor were additions in the 1960s. We can house twenty-four people if we have to.”

“Why would we have to do that?” Minnie asked, grimacing at puke colored wall paper.

Martha looked from me to Minnie. “I, uh, family reunions.”

“How many people are here right now?” I asked, following her up another flight of stairs.

“Just us and the aunts,” she said, opening a door and letting us through first. The room was long and thin and gave a painful reminder of a room I had run through so recently before. But it was clean and bright and cheerful. Someone, I was guessing Martha, had put a lot of thought into decorating the space. Three wrought iron bed frames lined the wall opposite the dormer windows. Each window had a little seat with a thin cushion. Dressers and drawers and bookshelves were built in and along that wall, flowing in and out of the dormers and along the low angled roof. What was visible of the walls was old plaster painted a dusky rose. The floor and ceilings gleamed with wide, dark pine planks. The scent of roses came from everywhere and roses were even detailed on the matching coverlets on the bed.

From Martha’s megawatt smile, I could tell she must have been planning to share this bedroom with friends or roommates for a long time. I also guessed the rose scented toiletries and pink everything in the bathroom were courtesy of her. My heart softened a little. I wondered how long she had been here and how long she had been the only “young woman”.

“It’s a pretty room,” I said quietly. “Thank you for sharing it with us.”

She beamed at the compliment and had to wipe her eyes when Minnie locked arms with her.

“This is a pretty sweet room,” Minnie said. “And house. Well, everything is pretty great so far. But still, I gotta ask, what’s up with the dresses?”

I bit back a laugh. I didn’t want Martha to be offended and I really did want to know the answer.

“Oh, didn’t the aunts tell you? We’re Mennonites.”

Chapter Six

D
ownstairs, the aunts were seated
in the kitchen at a little breakfast nook with a pitcher of iced tea and glasses. Minnie and I sat down across from them and suddenly I was nervous. How had I really come to be here? And what did these women want with us?

“So,” Hazel said, pulling a large leather book off her lap and putting it on the table. “I suppose we have a few things to go over.”

I looked to Minnie and back at the aunts. My thousands of questions had suddenly dried up in my mouth. I took a swig of iced tea and motioned for her to start.

She gave a little smile and opened her book. “Bianca—”

“I prefer Bixby.”

Viola rolled her eyes.

“Bixby is fine,” Hazel said, giving her sister a sharp glance. “Bixby, you are the daughter of Katherine, daughter of Pearl, daughter of Susan.”

I nodded my agreement and Hazel looked back down at the book to consult a very confusing looking chart. “So then our mother was first cousins with your great-grandmother. I’m not sure what exactly that makes us, relation wise, so we’ll just stick with great-aunts, okay?”

I just nodded again, not knowing what to say.

“And Minnie,” Hazel said, paging through her book. She looked for several minutes. “You are the daughter of Linda, daughter of, um, Margaret, daughter of Steven?”

Minnie shrugged. “I’m not sure; I don’t know my mom’s side of the family very well.”

Viola peered at the book over her sister’s arm. “I think you must somehow be related to one of our male cousins. I think.”

She cleared her throat and Martha appeared at her side. “Would you like to help me with dinner?” Martha asked Minnie. “I could show you the cold pantry.”

“That’d be great,” Minnie said with a genuine smile and left my side without even a glance back.

I waited until they were out of the room to speak. “I’m going to guess the reason your little book doesn’t say exactly how she’s related to you is because she isn’t. Like I said, all those papers you were waving around saying you’re our family were
blank
. You’re being tricked.”

Hazel sighed and pulled her glasses from her nose. “Bixby, we are
not
being tricked. You should be here with us, you should have been with us the moment your grandmother could no longer train you.”

“But those papers—”

“You should be here,” she snapped, her cheeks red. “I told you not to believe anything those jinn said. Perhaps you are the one being tricked?” I stared her down. Of course I was being tricked, I just wasn’t sure by who. Hazel gave a little sigh then continued. “You already know your little dream town isn’t just a dream and know at the very least your title, if not what it means. So let me explain it to you—you are a Gatekeeper, a position that is a right and a responsibility passed down through the women in our family.”

My mind was wandering. She was never going to believe me about those papers and I wasn’t going to be able to plan an escape for a least a few days. I tamped down my overwhelming disappointment and decided to play along. Maybe they could tell me things I could use to stay out of Jordan’s spiderweb. That cheered me up a little. “Okay. So what does that even mean? And why am I here?”

Viola answered. “You are here because you have no female to guide you in this role. It is very important, you must be shown how to gate keep.”

“Gate keep how? I don’t get what you mean!” I already hated their frustrating way of speaking in circles. It was almost as annoying as not being able to keep them straight.

“Singapore, of course! You are the active Gatekeeper of Singapore,” she snapped.

I snapped back. “That town doesn’t exist anymore. I’ve been there; it’s just a big sand dune now.”

“Right,” she agreed. “Singapore doesn’t exist anymore in our physical realm, it was too dangerous. It was a thin spot, an easy way through for them. The town in your dreams is what Singapore might have been if it had been allowed to continue in our world.”

“It wasn’t destroyed,” I argued, “it was filled up from sand erosion due to a big fire.”

“That wasn’t accidental,” she said, tilting her head to the side.

I sat quietly for a moment, thinking over the new information. “Then who did it?”