* * *
In spite of the strange sounds the house made, I slept through the entire night. I awoke the next morning to the sound of voices in the hall. Aunt Leah was speaking in hushed tones with Nathaniel about something to do with Cassandra.
I threw on my robe and hastened into the hall.
"Oh, I hope we didn't wake you, my dear?" Aunt Leah looked apologetic.
I shook my head.
"No, I was already awake. What's this about Cassandra?"
The old woman first turned to Nathaniel and then looked back at me.
"Well, we weren't sure how to tell you this," she began. Then she motioned for us to go inside my room and close the door.
"There's something you need to know about your niece. Cassandra has an imaginary friend named Devon. She believes he is a ghost."
Was I still asleep, or had I heard her correctly?
It was Nathaniel's turn to speak.
"This has been going on the past few days since her mother died and father left. So we're hoping it's just a phase that she's going through."
"I'm sure it will pass." I said trying to encourage them. "And you can trust that I'll help her in any way I can."
"Sorry," Nathaniel interrupted, "but we need to take her ashes down to the beach before Cassandra wakes up."
I quickly dressed and followed them down the steps behind the house to the fringe of beach below. The surf lamented softly in the morning breeze. And I stood on the shore with my two relatives saying goodbye to my other half. I couldn't stop the tears as they began to fall. As Nathaniel cast her ashes out over the sea, I knew she was gone forever.
Turning we climbed the steps and went back into the house. I spent the remainder of the morning reacquainting myself with Hathaway Hall and its daily routines. I spent the majority of my time with my niece in her room upstairs playing hide-and-go-seek. Then we worked together on a large jigsaw puzzle of the Taj Mahal. After many hours, I grew tired of being confined.
I had been pent up in Hathaway Hall for most of the day. Without any permission, my feet began to wander back to the familiar flagstone path to the cliffs. There, a long flight of wooden stairs waited for me to descend -- its path leading down to a shingle of beach below.
The afternoon shadows were beginning to lengthen across the sandy fringe. And as I reached the bottom step, I paused to breathe the salty air. It reminded me of those peaceful days of my youth, when we created sandcastles near the shore. Summer afternoons spent planning how to decorate them with furniture from my dollhouse. Then Aunt Leah would call us up to a brunch of biscuits with marmalade and slices of honeydew melon.
Closing my eyes, I imagined the scene in the breakfast nookery: the warm morning fragrance of summer flowing through the windows, blending with the pleasant aroma of breakfast. Nathaniel and Sebastian sitting together on the wooden bench their father had carved for them. And my sister, Adriana and I sitting across the table, watching them intently. The boys, unlike us, did not look alike. One was fair, while the other was dark. One was kind, and the other mischievous. The fair and kind one was Nathaniel. Though we did not visit here often, I know he preferred playing with me, whereas my sister spent most of her time with Sebastian, playing in the upstairs chambers.
I opened my eyes in time to see the sun beginning to set in the distant west. It would be eventide soon. Turning, I surveyed the rocks along the shingle of beach -- the jagged stone that had claimed my sister's life only days ago. My eyes welled with tears of what could have been, perhaps should have been. But I realized that regret would never bring Adriana back. Only her ghost lived on in my memory now.
Further up along the beach, I glimpsed something upon the shore. I hastened to find out what it was. As I approached, I could see it was a child's parasol colored with peppermint-stick stripes. Smiling, I reached out and picked it up before the ocean could claim it.
As I did, my mind conjured a distinct image of a young freckled girl with red hair. Instinctively, I knew this parasol belonged to her. Having never met the girl, I had no idea how to locate her. Also, I did not know how long ago she had lost it.
As I headed back to the stairs, I paused and looked into the sky. The heavens had faded into the soft velvet twilight. The ocean exhaled a cold sigh, whipping my hair. Then from out of nowhere, a deep voice spoke to me.
"I've been waiting for you!" it said.
Turning around, I beheld this man who appeared out of nowhere. This beautiful creature surrounded in mist like an angel. I did not recognize him, but he seemed to know me.
"I'm sorry," I began, "Do I know you?"
His hand reached out to touch me as if I were a mirage that might evaporate. As his fingers caressed my shoulder, I was struck with another intense vision. In my mind I saw myself with this handsome stranger on the cliffs locked in a passionate embrace.
I could not understand this, since my gift only allowed me to see past memories associated with a person or object. But this was the first time I saw something that had not happened. Or at least not yet -- Did this mean that I would fall in love with him?
Abruptly, his expression changed to one of puzzlement.
"Forgive me for not introducing myself." He took my hand gently and shook it. "My name is Jordan Harmon."
And then I noticed the ring, an exquisite amethyst. It twinkled in the moonlight on his hand. His hair was wavy and windswept like the tide. And his eyes were pools of sapphire that I could swim in forever; for I was hypnotized by his beauty. Everything about this felt unreal. Could I be dreaming?
"I'm Laura Gentry." I gestured back at the cliffs. "I'm staying with the Hathaway’s."
Though I had never met Jordan before, I felt a connection with him that I could not explain. And I knew from the way he looked at me, that he sensed it too. It was as if we were lovers in another time, in another life.
"So are you from around here?" he asked.
I nodded my head, "Well not too far from here, the small town of Monterey. I came for my sister's memorial."
His dazzling eyes suddenly darkened and a consoling arm reached out to comfort me.
"Laura, I'm sorry for your loss," he sympathized. "Is there anything I can do for you?"
I looked up and gazed into his innocent eyes. I could see that he understood my loss and had weathered tragedies of his own.
"That is so kind of you," I answered, "You don't even know me, and yet here you are."
Where did he come from?
I heard another voice calling me in the wind. I looked up and saw Cassandra leaning out her bedroom window.
"My niece is looking for me," I explained to him. "I need to go now, and it's getting cold." Then I shivered. But more from this happenchance meeting with Jordan, than from evening chill itself.
His face grew solemn.
"May I ask something of you?"
"Of course," I responded.
He reached out and took my hand.
"Promise me you'll come back.”
A deep sadness filled his eyes.
“When would you like me to come?” I asked.
For a moment, he pondered the waves before looking back at me.
“We can meet tomorrow after sunset.”
After a moment I nodded and turned to leave. As I ascended the stairs, it dawned on me that I had never said goodbye. But when I looked back, he was gone. There was only the dark surf of the evening tide. Perhaps I had only imagined him after all.