It had to be a dream.
Yet, right beside her on the overstuffed sofa, was the woman she found only a few hours earlier cowering inside the broken crypt. Holding Micki’s hand in hers, so incredibly warm and beautiful.
Her mind insisted that she was no more than a lost girl; a beautiful woman who had suffered through some traumatic act. Her fangs nothing more than a false, but eerily real looking prosthetic, courtesy of cosmetic dentistry.
But Micki’s heart…her heart now beat double time beneath her breast, whispered that the woman who called herself Catherina Cabot was something more…something much, much more. Special, and indeed, otherworldly.
“Thank you for waking me.”
Micki’s dark brows drew together. How odd. She didn’t wake Catherina, she herself was deeply asleep on the sofa. Unless she snored loudly or sleepwalked. Her cheeks heated. Both were equally mortifying.
“I woke you? I didn’t mean to. You need your sleep.”
“No, not now, silly girl,” she laughed lightly. It was a merry little laugh like tinkling bells. “I heard you singing in the graveyard. That was you, yes?”
Now Micki really was confused. She often sang in the graveyard as she cleaned the gravestones and did the gardening. “Yes…I do sing sometimes. Have you been somewhere in the graveyard when I’ve been out and about?”
“Don’t you understand, Micki? I have been asleep a very long time inside the crypt where I was banished and left to die. But I did not die. Your sweet singing woke me from my long slumber, and the blessed ferocity of the thunderstorm broke me from my prison.
If Micki was confused only a minute before, now she was out of her mind…or still sleeping. “No, Catherina, I don’t understand what you are trying to tell me.”
“You may call me Cate.”
“Cate. That’s lovely.”
“Dear Micki, you are so exhausted, poor darling.” She stood from the sofa, still holding Micki’s hand. “Let us both go to bed and have a pleasant rest.”
Now, with her mind truly boggled, she stood from the sofa and allowed Cate to guide her back to the bedroom. She almost mechanically got into the bed. Cate tucked her in, pressed a gentle kiss against her forehead and got into the bed next to her.
Maybe she was right. A nice sleep would help both of their minds to clear. Yet, Micki couldn’t help but be a bit unnerved by the beautiful stranger in her bed beside her.
“Micki?”
“Yes, Cate?”
“Could you please tell me what month and year it is?”
For a moment, the room was so quiet, all Micki could hear was her own breathing, and the ticking of the bedside clock.
“It’s March, Cate, 2018.”
Again, the silence fell over the room like a heavy quilt.
“It has been a very long time, Micki. A very long time, indeed.”
“A long time since…”
“Since I was sealed in the crypt.”
“Cate, I really don’t understand…”
She rolled over and stroked Micki’s cheek. “Let us get the sleep we need.”
Micki only nodded, and Cate smiled, rolled back to her side of the bed, and pulled the blanket over her shoulders.
Yes, Micki needed sleep. Too much happened this morning, and it was sure to only get more confusing. Yet she could not deny that she was intrigued by the beautiful woman in bed beside her, who seemingly held a wealth of secrets and surprises. Before she could close her eyes, she needed to ask one more question.
“Cate, could I ask you one question?”
“Of course.”
“What year were you…sealed in the…crypt?” The question sounded so ludicrous.
“1912. A very long time ago.”
And the answer was even more unbelievable.
“Oh…okay then,” Micki forced the words out threw suddenly dry lips. “Let us get some sleep. It seems you have a lot of catching up to do in this world.”
Exhaustion was one thing, but after just the small amount of conversation with Cate, Micki was sure she would never sleep again as long as the mysterious woman remained beneath her roof.
Yet, she did sleep. Very deeply, and for many hours. When she awoke and looked at the illuminated dial of the clock on the bedside table, it was already evening.
Maybe she really did dream it all. One look to her side, and Cate was there, eyes closed, her mane of honey blonde hair spread out like a fan over the pillow.
Well, she would get answers soon.
As carefully as she could manage, she slid from the bed and slipped her feet into the novelty unicorn slippers she received from the Secret Santa gift exchange at the church.
In the kitchen, she started the kettle for tea. As she waited for it to boil, she got a fire going in the stone fireplace in the sitting room. Almost instantly, the room filled with warmth. March was always a peculiar month. Too cold to not use some type of heat; too warm to run the central heating system without it feeling like a sauna. The fire was just right.
The kettle whistled, and Micki hurried back into kitchen to keep the sound from waking Cate. But after she poured the boiling water into two tea cups over chamomile tea bags, she sensed a presence behind her. When she turned, Cate stood a few feet from her, blue eyes sleepy and her gorgeous hair tousled.
“Hello Cate, how are you feeling?”
“Tired, but alive,” she answered, as she accepted the proffered tea cup.
“Would you like something to eat? Maybe a bowl of porridge? I know it’s evening, but your stomach must be as empty as mine.”
“Emptier,” she smiled.
If Cate was to be believed, her last real meal was sometime in 1912.
If she was to be believed.
“Why don’t you sit in front of the fire with your tea? I will be along shortly with your porridge.”
“I will enjoy that.”
Micki prepared the porridge, ladled it into two bowls, and finished it with a splash of cream and a sprinkle of cinnamon sugar. She placed each bowl onto a pretty floral tray along with a spoon and a linen napkin.
In the sitting room, she momentarily watched as Cate walked around touching everything. The desktop computer, the telephone, and the television. Her lovely face quizzical.
“That is a television, Cate. It has moving pictures on it. Like…” she paused to think. If Cate really did exist in 1912, she might have seen some early silent movies at the theatre. “A movie at the theatre with sound.” She paused. “Did you ever see a movie?”
“Movies?” she asked. “I have seen movies.”
“Yes. The other box is called a computer. You can access almost any information on it from around the world. Like a living newspaper.”
“So much change, so much to learn,” Cate lamented.
“There’s time to learn. It might even be fun for you.” It might even be fun for them both. Of course, how long could this little arrangement last?
Cate sat on the floor before the fire and stretched her legs in front of her. Micki knelt beside her and carefully handed over the tray.
“Thank you, my darling.”
Cate had such a lovely and refined manner about her. Micki was intrigued to know everything about her houseguest.
Micki fetched her own tray from the kitchen and sat before the fire. In silence they ate. A certain sadness now radiated from the woman.
“Are you sad, Cate?”
“A little. I feel very…lost, Micki. I am now in a world I do not understand. Perhaps it would have been better if I never woke.”
Micki placed her tray aside, scooched closer to her, and placed a protective arm around her shoulders. “You are not alone, Cate, remember that. You found me. I won’t let you down. I plan to introduce you to a fascinating world that will astound you.”
She turned her head to Micki, her blue eyes large and liquid. “You would do that for me? Do you not fear what I am?”
“I don’t know what you are, Cate. I have a feeling it has something to do with those pointed teeth you have. I don’t fear you, I envy you…you have woken up to a new world full of endless possibilities, and if I am correct, and I’m not sure I am…I don’t think you will ever die.”
Cate looked down into her tea cup. “I am not enviable, Micki. To not die, to be feared…hated, always on guard. It is not a pleasant life, at least the last years I was awake were not.”
“No one hates you, Cate, and this is a different time, full of lots of different people. You will seamlessly blend in with everyone.”
“You sound so sure.” Cate chuckled a bit, but it was not a happy chuckle.
“You will have to trust me, Cate. I promise you that by Easter you will be ready to re-enter society.
“Easter,” she sighed. “I always loved Easter. The spring, and the awakening of the earth from its long winter slumber.”
Not only was Cate exquisitely gorgeous, she was eloquent, as well.
“Yes, that is the perfect parallel, Cate. Like spring, after a long sleep, you have awakened to a bright, beautiful time full of sunshine and flowers, and growth.”
And then Cate did something surprising. She leaned over and pressed her slightly parted pale pink lips to Micki’s lips. Pulling back a few inches, her blue eyes searched Micki’s brown eyes. “Is that wrong?” she asked.
“No, it’s not wrong. It’s perfect,” Micki sighed, and kissed her again.