Daughters of the Lake(66)

Now, as Kate punched her pillow and turned onto her side, she couldn’t turn off those thoughts. Was Simon right? Were her dreams and Addie’s sudden reappearance somehow tied to the murder and the trial? Kate wasn’t sure, but whenever she thought of the notion of Addie’s husband killing her, she was overcome by a feeling that was hard to define. It just didn’t seem possible. The love that she had felt between them in her dreams—it was hard to imagine that kind of love curdling and ending in death.

Simon popped his head into Kate’s room, breaking her train of thought.

“And how are we doing?” he inquired.

“We’re doing just fine,” Kate laughed.

“I’m going downstairs to Skype with Jonathan,” Simon said. “If you need anything, just holler.”

Kate could already feel the heaviness behind her eyes as she snuggled down into bed. “I have a feeling I won’t be hollering. I’ll be drifting off in very short order.”

“Let me tuck you in,” Simon said, pulling the covers up to her chin. He kissed her, turned off the light, and closed the door, leaving Kate alone with her thoughts as her eyes fell shut.

She found herself standing in the middle of a large room. She recognized it almost immediately—it was the ballroom on the third floor of Harrison’s House. But it was different from how Kate remembered. It was cleaner, newer. All the shutters were open, and the windows were freshly washed. Candles lit the room—Kate saw their light flickering against the windowpanes.

Odd, Kate thought. Someone must have been up here cleaning all night long. Would Simon have done that? Why?

Then it occurred to her. Oh, I’m dreaming.

Then she heard the voices. Talking and laughing. Glasses clinking, high heels on the wood floor. The room was filled with people. Was this a party? Kate longed to turn around and see what was happening but could not direct her gaze away from the window. She felt a slight breeze on her face as she noticed that some of the windows themselves were open as well. The view was expansive and dramatic, but this, too, was different than she remembered it. Kate could see all the way down the road to the harbor, where two enormous ships floated lazily in the background and a cluster of smaller boats filled the slips at the town dock. People crowded the streets, walking into and among the shops. They congregated down at the harbor, and Kate noticed a group of young people—families, she thought—enjoying a picnic on a grassy hill overlooking the water. Green leaves adorned the trees, flowers were everywhere, and the sun was setting, turning the sky into an explosion of pinks and purples. What a lovely day, Kate thought. It must be high summer, tourist season.

She leaned out of the window to get a better look. The town itself was immeasurably smaller than Kate knew it to be. Where the Flamingo restaurant should have been, the whole block was taken up by what looked to be a warehouse. The bookstore and the drugstore, both gone. In their places, an open field with a large sign proclaiming FRESH BLUEBERRIES! PICK YOUR OWN!

Next to the water, the Dockside Café, too, was gone. An industrial building stood there, two stories high. Kate saw a sign on its wall but could not make it out completely. Only the word FISH was discernable. She saw no antique shops and no art galleries. There were stores on the streets, just not the ones that Kate knew. A grocer, what looked to be a restaurant. Was that a hardware store? Kate couldn’t make out the rest of the signs.

Instead of the row of stately Victorian homes that Kate had come to know, one small, clapboard house with a decaying front porch stood between Harrison’s House and the town center. Shabby though the house was, Kate noticed a magnificent garden that stretched into what looked to be two lots. Kate could make out stalks of corn, sunflowers, lettuce, beans, and a whole host of other vegetables ripening in the sun. Beautiful, Kate thought. She noticed that the roads were unpaved and entire blocks were simply undeveloped, grassy land. Lines of raised, wooden sidewalks snaked through town, so the ladies and gentlemen who lived there wouldn’t soil the bottoms of their dresses and trousers on the muddy, dirty streets. The lakeshore looked rugged, untamed and dominant against such simple edifices.

It wasn’t until Kate looked closer at the people on the street that she got it. Long dresses, three-piece suits and bowler hats, parasols. Model T cars. Horses tied to hitching posts here and there. No cell phone, power line, or music to be seen or heard. She was looking out the window into Wharton circa 1910.

Her other dreams had seemed just as concrete and real to her as this one did, but they had not contained such specific information. She learned a bit about Addie in those other dreams, to be sure, but she hadn’t learned anything about her surroundings. This dream, this was all about experiencing Wharton as it was a century ago. Kate was joyous, wanting to take it all in. She consciously tried to remember every last detail. I must not forget anything. Please let me remember it all.

“Quite a sight, isn’t it?” a voice jolted Kate out of her reverie. She had been staring intently out the window, but at the sound of the voice, she felt herself whirl around toward the interior of the room.

“It is indeed,” Kate said, in a voice that was not her own. Kate was astonished to be facing Harrison Connor, her own great-grandfather, as young and vibrant as he looked in the photo Kate had found in that very room. He was wearing a tuxedo and flashed a sincere smile when their eyes met. Only then was Kate able to see beyond him into the sea of people in the ballroom. Women in floor-length dresses, men in tuxedos. The room was glittering with light and shimmering with laughter and music. Some people were dancing, while others stood in groups drinking cocktails and chatting. Servants wandered about carrying trays of hors d’oeuvres and drinks. Kate looked down at her dress, green taffeta, and then was able to feel it scratching against her legs.