The Summer Solstice ~ Enchanted (2 page)

“Make yourself comfortable,
relax and I’ll be back with some hot tea.” I go to stop her and tell her that’s
not necessary but she has already left.

Fresh from a shower with a
white fluffy robe cloaking my body, I step in front of the oval mirror. My damp
brown hair has been tossed wildly around my face and neck. I take a brush to
it, wishing that it were longer so that I could pull it up into a bun. I look
at my complexion next. It’s the first time I’ve really looked at myself in
months. My skin is pastier than normal, and my dull, pale blue eyes with a hint
of silver are bloodshot from lack of sleep. My cheekbones are strong but the
corners of my mouth are turned down slightly, frozen in grief.

You’re
stunning, Katrina. Your smoldering eyes, your radiant smile. I never want you
to hear you call yourself anything but beautiful.
My
mom would speak of boys that would knock down the door for me and girls that
would envy my beauty – one day. But I see none of what she sees. No boy
has ever looked at me as if I’m beautiful.

As
we enter the bedroom I see my suitcases on the top of my beige comforter and a
sterling silver tray with tea, a note, and two pills. I sit on the bed and read
the note. It’s from Charlotte.

Kat,

Here are some
pills to help you sleep. Take them if you wish. If there is anything else you
need please use the phone on the bedside table and dial 8 to reach my room
directly. Welcome home.

Charlotte

Not wanting to wait any longer to escape this overwhelming reality,
I throw on my under clothes and tank top, chug down the two pills with the tea,
and climb under the covers. It doesn’t take long for me to drift off…

I sit in front of the
mahogany vanity that towers before me. It’s a monument much like everything
else in my room. If the objects aren’t generous in size then they make up for
it in their beauty and fragility. Staring at my new reflection in the large
oval mirror I notice that my face is fairer than I’m used to, and it glows
magnificently. My eyes are a bright and unusual shade of silver. My dark brown
hair is soft, long, thick, and flowing down past my shoulders.

I
take in my groomed features with awe. I reach for the glass to touch the girl
in the mirror. I watch every move of my hand as it creeps towards the glass. My
reflection follows in perfect synchrony. My hand rises to my face in time with
my mirror image. And I move a piece of hair from my head. My reflection follows
happily.

My
lashes are longer. My nails, now that they’re near my face, appear manicured
and long. And that’s when I notice it.

A
necklace lies across my neck as if it’s made for me – but not just any
necklace. The green crystal reflects the light of the sun that streams through
the massive balcony windows. I move to touch the necklace – lifting it
gently from my neck.

My
heart pounds like a steady drum. The image smiles at me, with an almost evil
glimmer in her eye. I gasp. She does not gasp with me, but smiles even
brighter. There are silver streaks of madness in her eyes that freeze me to a
still. Her eyes narrow and turn so that they no longer meet mine. They stare
just to the right of me, over my shoulder where an antique vase sits, holding
fresh flowers.

I watch as the vase
lifts with every move of my reflection’s finger. The next sound I hear is a
terrifying scream. I jam my palms to the sides of my head to muffle the
horrible sound coming from my reflection’s voice. My mirror image isn’t smiling
anymore. Her mouth is grotesque, shaped into a scream as the sound escapes her.
The vase shakes violently and with a final change in pitch, it shatters in
midair, spraying my bedroom with glass.

I am still
covering my ears. My eyes are pinched closed and I’m screaming too. I continue
to scream until someone shakes me. My eyes shoot open. I’m ready to defend
myself from the attack of the girl in the mirror until I see a new light. This
bright white light does not belong to the scene I was just a part of and I’m
not sitting at my vanity. I am lying in bed, covered from head to toe in sweat.
And now that I realize it was all a dream, I am crying in Charlotte’s arms. She
shushes me, comforting me as I sob into her arms.

“It was just a
dream, it’s okay. Everything will be okay.” The mesmerizing sound of her voice and
light rocking of my body is soothing enough to get me back to sleep quickly.

I don’t wake up again until the morning and this
time I’m not screaming. No other dreams haunt me that night, but I can’t stop
thinking about the reflection in the mirror.

The moment I begin my descent down the grand
staircase my mouth tingles as the aroma of bacon and eggs enters my nostrils. I
follow the scent past the white great room, through a brilliant mahogany arch
into a lavish dining room decorated in electric blue, from the plates on the
wall, to the table coverings, and candles on the table. I’m spellbound as I
bobble through the room as if on a cloud.

My dream from last night is far from out of my
mind, but for now, it’s pushed aside as I take my seat in the dining room.

A stranger to me, though biologically she is my
grandmother, sits facing me with a smile set on her face. She moves to set her
water glass down and I see her clearly. With her hair as white as snow, her
eyes as silver as diamonds, and skin as new as a middle-aged woman, she is
actually a stunning sight. Simple math tells me Rose is at least 60 years old
but by the looks of her, she isn’t a day over 50. It’s a strange experience to
be sitting across from a woman I am to call Grandma.

Rose’s friendly expression makes me feel as if she
doesn’t consider me a stranger. My stomach twists in discomfort. “You are more
beautiful than I imagined.” She remarks. “It’s as if I’m looking into your
mother’s reflection at 16 years old.”

Nervous as I am in this moment I find the strength
to respond to this stranger before me. “I’ll be 16 on June 21st.”

Rose – er, my grandmother – smiles
brightly at nods and me. “Yes, dear. I know.” Something about her response
sends a current through my body. I try to shake it away but it lingers as I continue
to speak. “Is it okay if I call you Rose?”

Rose nods kindly and waves a hand towards my hot
plate. “Of course. Would you eat with me? Charlotte whipped us up some of your
favorites.” I think I catch a wink from Rose. My stomach tightens.
How does
she know what my favorites are?
Bacon, eggs, and waffles with blueberries.
Yup.

I didn’t notice Charlotte in the corner of the
dining room but I see her wiping dust from a frame. She catches my eye and her
smile immediately softens my mood.
How does she do that?
I give
Charlotte a silent nod and tight smile before turning back towards Rose.

“You have a beautiful home.” The words are hard to
produce but I’m sure she knows that this is anything but a home to me. I
stumble to unfold my napkin and place it on my lap. If there’s one thing my mom
taught me well, it’s proper manners.

“Thank you, Katrina. I do hope that you will make
yourself comfortable. This is your home now too.”

I nod my head, and look around me. How can one
person afford such nonessential items?

Charlotte hurries toward me with a glass of orange
juice and a pitcher of water. Does she sense an awkward moment? She fills my
drink glasses and we greet each other. There’s an unspoken understanding about
my gratitude for her comfort last night.

She places a warm hand on my back and smiles before
retreating to the kitchen.

“So,” Rose begins, her smile growing, “you will
have the summer to adjust to things here and maybe get to know some people
before school starts up in the fall. I sincerely think you will feel at home in
no time.”

Feeling at home here doesn’t seem possible. Not in
this strange mansion of a home. Not without my friends. Not without my mother.
I wonder if I’ll ever feel at home anywhere again. I don’t respond with my
actual thoughts. Instead, I give her the best smile I can muster. “I am glad I
have some time to adjust. What is there to do around here anyway?”

Rose seems to brighten during our conversation.
Maybe she expected me to give her a hard time. “A lot of the teenagers spend
their time at the community center down the street. I’ll take you there this
week and you can see for yourself.”

A community center? The term didn’t make me think
of “teenage hangout.” “What is there to do there?”

“Everything,” Rose says with a look that tells me I
will be impressed. I decide to not press her with more questions. She’s not
exactly forthcoming with information.

Charlotte chimes in now as she floats back to the
table empty-handed. “I’ll give you that tour we talked about when I get back
from town today. I figure you’ll be unpacking until then anyway.”

I’m distracted by the food. I can’t remember the
last time I ate a home cooked meal. My foster family fed the household only
canned and frozen foods. “Thank you,” I say as my stomach rolls.

Rose doesn’t look at her, but keeps her examining
eyes focused on me. “The tour would be great, but leave the den and the library
alone. Katrina and I will spend plenty of time there in days to come.”

Something in Rose’s voice changed with the last
comment but I know better than to think more on it. I get the strange feeling
that Rose has an agenda for me and I’ll soon find out what that is.

Rose looks up to Charlotte who is still hovering
over us ensuring we’re okay with food and drinks. “Dear, will you fetch me the
morning’s paper? And then please, eat something. You’re withering away under
those old clothes.” She is speaking to Charlotte now, then looks between
Charlotte and me. “I was thinking that you and Katrina could head into town and
shop around sometime this week. I’m sure you both could use some new –
items.”

I look to Charlotte and then back to Rose. The last
thing I wanted was to take charity from my grandmother. I brought my entire
wardrobe from back home and didn’t think that I would need to go shopping so
soon.

“Oh thank you Rose, but I’m okay with what I
brought. You don’t need to buy me anything.”

“Nonsense, dear. You are not on vacation. You’ll
need some things for summer. And you’ll need to go into town anyway to get to
know the place. I would take you myself but my week is packed with events.”

The thought of spending my grandmother’s money is
unsettling. Maybe I need to get a job. I’d never had one before, but now seems
to be the perfect time. I think of a way to pose my next question subtly but
notice her looking at me questioningly.

“Maybe you would like to get a job at the community
center. I’m not asking you to get one but if you’d feel better earning some
spending money then we can see what’s available.”

She can read minds. “Okay,” I answer with a shrug
of my shoulders and trace of a smile.

Her face relaxes before she continues. “I know this
all must be so strange, not to mention unbelievably difficult, so please let me
do what I can to make this a smooth transition for you.”

By this comment I’m certain Rose isn’t crazy about
me getting a job and I’m suddenly overwhelmed with all the questions I want to
ask. Somehow I don’t think that any of them are appropriate right now. There’s
so much I want to know about my mom, Rose, my grandfather, and this place in
general. I tell myself in due time I’ll have the opportunity.

“Charlotte says that you have leadership roles in
the town. What exactly do you do?” I don’t hide my curiosity.

Rose perks up a bit; I can tell she’s passionate
about her work for the city. “A few things dear, and they keep me fairly busy.
I am Homeowner Association President of our subdivision. And I am on the town
council as senior member and on the Community Event Chair. I manage committee
groups to help keep our little city clean, safe, and active. And like I said
before, I have many connections with the community center. It was actually
built with a donation from your grandfather and me so I ensure it’s running
smoothly. The town calls it Summer Island.”

There is silence now, except for the clinking of
silverware as food enters our mouths. My grandmother is not only rich, but she
funded an entire community center named Summer Island?
Who is this woman?

Rose is unsteady as she stands, showing her age.
But the rest of the movements are young and fluid. She heads for the door to
the great room, turning one last time to speak.

“You know, the last time Grace was in this town she
was 18 and looked almost identical to you. You are blessed with her beauty.”

As Rose says my mother’s name, my heart sinks deep
into my stomach. She vanishes down the hall and I have suddenly lost my
appetite. Sadness washes over me and I slide my plate of food away. “I’m
sorry,” is all I can mutter to Charlotte.

Charlotte takes my plate from me without a word and
walks off toward the kitchen, leaving me to myself. I turn my eyes away from
the table to the great big open windows that overlooks the Bay and sigh.
There’s something incredibly inviting about the view before me. That’s where I
should be right now.

I hate to admit it, but even after going my entire
life without knowing her, my grandmother feels somewhat familiar to me. Though
there is an air about her that runs ill through my thoughts. It’s as if she’s
known me my whole life.

A short while later, I’m back in my room searching
for something to wear. After that awful dream last night, dry sweat coats my
body. Maybe a swim is what I need.

My hope is to wash away all of the pain that has
flooded me in the past month. Is it possible to make it all just go away?
Better yet, can I turn back the hands of time so I can see my mother
again?

And then the big question consumes me. Did my mom
know that I would live here if something were to happen to her? She had to have
known. Nothing made sense anymore.

The second I reach
the sand I feel a release inside me that I know I’ve needed. I take a deep
breath, sucking in the salty sea air. Sand sinks in between my toes with each
step, the tiny grains exfoliating my skin, as I continue to move effortlessly
towards the Tampa Bay shore. It is easy to let my mind go and lose myself to
the gentle breeze. As I progress forward, I do so blindly. I peel my coral
romper from my body; toss it aside, and aim for the Bay for a swim. I think
about earlier events…

Charlotte greeted me at the bottom of the grand
staircase before my venture to the beach. She smiled. “Good afternoon, Kat. I’m
heading into town to run a few errands but I thought I’d give you the tour
first so you can start finding your way around here.”

I let Charlotte lead me all over the
much-too-large house, admiring each room for every bit of exquisite detail.

The main floor was daunting with its 30-foot
high-coffered ceilings, supported by cast Italian stone columns, reaching to
the upper floor gallery, which was where the great room sat overlooking water
vistas and breathtaking views of the Bay front. The formal dining room, which
we sat in that morning, had been meticulously cleaned. Next, Charlotte led me
through the arch into a gourmet kitchen enriched with solid wood custom
cabinets and polished ogee edge granite counter tops. A casual dining room sat
off in a nook overlooking the beach, with a massive living room beyond that.

Charlotte led me upstairs next. “What’s down
that hallway?” I asked Charlotte, my eyes catching the dark and empty hallway
to my left.

“Oh, I guess you could call that area Rose’s
Quarters. Her bedroom, the library, and her den are all down that hall. She
wants to show you that herself.”

That’s right. I remember her saying something about
that at breakfast.

Charlotte continued the tour showing me one
guest bedroom and the Master Suite, which was my room. I must have looked at
Charlotte with an odd sideways glance because she laughed. “Unusual I know.
Rose doesn’t want the space. She likes having everything in one area and
doesn’t like the stairs so she gave the Master to you.”

“Then why such a large home? Don’t get me wrong.
This place is gorgeous but I can’t imagine one person needing…” I wave my arms
around me, “all of this.”

I could tell Charlotte agreed but she has a
loyalty about her. Charlotte had clearly become a close companion to Rose.

Charlotte surprised me with an answer. “Rose has
lived in Apollo Beach most of her life. There’s a status that she thinks she
must uphold. Rose and your grandfather had the house built 10 years ago after
the fire.”

“Fire? What fire?” Since my mother never spoke
of Rose or Apollo Beach she sure as heck never told me about any fire.

Charlotte’s eyes flitted away from mine, her
eyebrows slightly scrunched. “Your mom never told you about the fire?”

I shook my head at Charlotte, an awful feeling
rose in my stomach. What is with all the secrets around here? “She never said a
word.”

“I guess she wouldn’t have if you two didn’t
have a relationship with your grandparents. I shouldn’t have assumed you knew.
Forget I said anything about it. Rose will tell you all about it in time.”

But I didn’t give in. Charlotte let something
slip and I wanted to know what the secret was. “You can’t do that. What fire?
When? Where?”

Charlotte looked as though she’d been caught. “I
really should let Rose tell you, Kat. I’m sorry, but it’s just not my place.”