The Man In
The Mirror
by
Jo Barrett
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.
The Man In The Mirror
COPYRIGHT © 2009 by Jo Barrett All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
Contact Information: [email protected] Cover Art by
R.J.Morris
The Wild Rose Press
PO Box 708
Adams Basin, NY 14410-0706
Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com Publishing History
First Faery Rose, 2009
Published in the United States of America Connor watched from the mirror as she leaned her head back against the front door with a sigh. Her nose appeared red to him, and the freckles that dotted her face seemed pale. Were those tears on her cheeks? What could have caused her to cry?
She swiped the remnants of moisture from her face. “I have got to get a grip,” she muttered.
“I don’t love him anymore. It shouldn’t matter that his new wife is having a baby. It doesn’t matter that they live in a big beautiful house just like the one I wanted. It doesn’t matter that he’s even—got—a—
dog
,” she cried and ran across the small foyer through the living area to disappear into her bedroom.
He wished he could move to the mirror there, but knew from experience that it would cost him.
Choosing mirrors was a sensitive task, one that had taken him nearly fifty years to perfect. If he were to attempt to peer through the glass he knew hung on her bedroom wall, a
private
mirror, his energy would become so depleted it would be years before he could appear again.
He must be invited by her.
And yet the sobs he heard coming from her room tore at his heart, one he’d been certain had died a long time ago.
An hour later, his jaw ached from clenching his teeth. The floor, if one could call it that, would have had a track worn into it from his pacing if he could affect anything in the world behind the glass. As it was, he could only move from mirror to mirror and watch from within as 1
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the world grew and changed in front of him. If only he could comfort her in some way.
Her door opened and she appeared wearing a long t-shirt with some faded design on it. Her cheeks were scrubbed clean of face powder and her light brown hair hung about her shoulders in soft waves. Although her eyes and nose were red from crying, he thought her beautiful.
Tori Fraser was average, to hear her tell it, as she spoke such things to the hall mirror often.
She would stand in front of him, unaware of his presence, before leaving for work and say, “So, you’re not a ten. You’re not a one either. You’re fine just the way you are.” Then with a firm nod, she would slip out the door and out of his life for the course of the day. But invariably she would return home with a despondent look upon her sweet face.
The man she’d been engaged to some years ago worked for the same institution she did.
Although he didn’t work in the same bank branch, he visited there on occasion. And gossip, Connor had learned from his youth, had feet that led straight to the one person it would harm the most.
She moved into the kitchen where he could not see due to the lack of a mirror there, but he heard the sound of glass clinking against a table, the pop of a cork, and the splash of liquid. A moment later she strolled into view and picked up the remote, pushed a button, and her television came to life. She sat on the sofa, tucked her lovely limbs beneath her, and stared at the moving images on the screen. He could tell her mind was not on the story being portrayed, her gaze seemed distant as she sipped her wine.
He let out a long sigh of regret. Before him 2
The Man In The Mirror
sat a woman who should not be alone. She had so much life in her, and so very much to give. If only he could do something to ease her pain, to help her find someone to care for as she once cared for the man she’d cried so many tears over.
The telephone rang and she hesitated before answering.
“Hello,” she said.
Her face brightened for a moment. “I’m fine, Nana. Yes, I’ll be by tomorrow for lunch. I didn’t forget.” She listened for several minutes, then said goodbye.
So, she had an outing to visit her grandmother. It would do her good, as she always returned with a brilliant smile and her spirits lifted. But over the course of the late night hours, he could see her earlier pain returning as she finished a full bottle of wine.
Drowsy from drink, she laid her head against a pillow and gazed at the shifting images on the screen.
“Why didn’t he just love me? Why was that so hard?” she muttered.
“Because he is a fool,” Connor grumbled.
She snorted softly as she tucked the cushion beneath her cheek. “And I was a fool to love him.”
Connor sucked in his breath. Had she heard him? After two hundred years, had someone finally heard him? The first decade had passed painfully as he’d shouted, screamed, slammed his fists against the glass only to be ignored by the world outside. Had the sea witch who’d cursed him decided he’d learned his lesson?
“He did not deserve you, sweetness,” he said, and held his breath.
“But I loved him so much,” she said, her voice breaking. “Don’t I deserve someone?”
He swallowed hard, wanting to shout out with joy, but with a steadying breath he chose his words with care. “You deserve everything, and it will come to you, I vow it. But you must be patient.”
“I’m so tired of waiting. I hate being alone.”
“I am here for you, sweetness.” Yes, he would remain in her mirror for all eternity. He would watch over her, be there for her, he would—his heart stuttered in his chest.
Good Lord
.
I’m in love with her
. He’d watched her for months, observed and enjoyed her many conversations with herself, but this was something he’d not been prepared for.
“So cruel,” he whispered, knowing the sea witch listened. He was her prisoner, and her joy lay in his torment. Why not grant him the pleasure of finding his one true love, only to never be able to touch her? To love and yet never be loved, to see and yet never be seen?
Although he now had a voice, he realized his exile to the mirror for his avarice and conceit had not been thorough enough. She’d tortured him with a half-life for centuries, simply to bestow upon him the most brutal penance of all.
“Yes, he was cruel,” Tori murmured. “But I let him do it to me.”
“You did nothing but love him, and in return he broke your heart,” he said, his temper rising.
He’d like nothing more than to take the man who’d done this to her and break his neck.
“I should’ve known. All the signs were there.
Date me—dump me—date me. It was a long, bizarre roller coaster ride.” She climbed to her feet, her body swaying from too much drink.
“Perhaps you should rest now, love. Things will be much improved in the morning,” he lied.
Her head would no doubt pound, as if a volley of 4
The Man In The Mirror
cannon fire had crossed her prow for hours.
She sighed and took a tentative step forward. “I’ll feel like crud in the morning, and you know it, but you’re right. I may as well go to sleep. I can barely keep my eyes open as it is anyway.”
Teetering toward her room, she paused and glanced back over her shoulder. She looked about the space, her brow furrowed and her eyes narrowed, then shook her head and went to bed.
No doubt she realizes she’s been conversing
with no one
, he thought with a chuckle. At least no one she could see. Perhaps he could manage this life the witch had given him after all without losing his mind completely.
****
Connor knew she would rise late after imbibing so much drink the night before, but wished he could see through the door that separated them to be certain she was well.
He paced his domain for ages before her door opened. She stumbled to the kitchen, her hair mussed, her eyes barely open, and still wearing that long shirt with nothing covering her legs.
He listened as she worked in the kitchen, and after several minutes he heard a chair scrape against the floor followed by a moan of pleasure. The sound shot straight through his body. A more torturous existence awaited him—
apparently. Not only had he discovered he had a heart, a part of his body he’d never engaged during his natural life, but lust was to be his constant companion as well.
The doorbell rang, and she rose to answer it.
He observed her as she came into view. The circles beneath her dark green eyes caused him 5
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to wince and mutter a curse against the man who’d caused her so much pain.
Tori paused, her hand on the doorknob and glanced around the room.
“Oh, I am so losing it,” she muttered. She’d spent half the night talking to herself, crying in her wine, and now she could swear she’d heard someone. As if they were standing right beside her cursing.
Which she proceeded to do as the bell pealed once again. She opened the door to admit her friend, Lynne, knowing and hating what was going to come out of her mouth.
“Hey there—wow. What hit you, a truck?”
“A big bottle of wine.” She waved her in, and they went into the kitchen.
Lynne snatched a cup of coffee and sat down at the table beside her. “Then you already know about Tom.”
Tori nodded. “And before you say anything, yes I know I need to get over it, yes I know I can’t go on crying over him, and yes I know he’s not worth a single tear.”
Lynne patted her hand and smiled. “Then you’re getting better. You used to cry for a full twenty-four hours and deny all of that, as I would so kindly remind you each and every time.”
She chuckled, then winced, cupping her forehead as she leaned on the table. “Actually, I had a nice little talk with myself last night and I think it helped.”
“Good. Now, although I suspect you’d rather stay home and veg, we’re going out shopping.”
Tori groaned. “Lynne, thanks, really. But I’m just not in the mood. And I need to get myself repaired before I visit Nana this afternoon.”
Lynne sighed, but agreed.
They visited a little longer then once Lynne left, she hit the shower. Her fingers tangled in her hair, and she recalled her conversation the night before.
“I deserve everything,” she said with a chuckle. Well, why not? Maybe if she thought like that she could get past the hurt. Although she had to admit, the hurt wasn’t really about Tom anymore. It was about what he represented. About not being loved, about not having all the things she thought she would have by now. A home and family. Why were those things so hard to obtain?
With a scowl, she wrapped a towel around her and crossed the room to her dresser.
Halfway there, she paused, eyes wide, and swallowed the lump of fear climbing her throat.
“Lynne?” she called, peeking through the doorway to the living room, but got no answer.
She eased out of her bedroom, certain she’d heard someone.
“Have mercy,” a voice groaned.
With a yelp, she jumped back into her room and slammed the door. “Whoever you are, you’d better know I’m calling the police.” Problem was, the phone was in the living room. Her little apartment didn’t need more than one, and she’d left it in the living room by the couch last night after talking to Nana.
“Blast it,” the very male voice said. “I’ll not hurt you, I vow it.”
“I have a gun,” she lied. She only had some pepper spray, which was sitting in her purse on the table by the door.
The voice sighed. “I know you do not, but it would make no difference. It would not work on me. Nor would the fierce spray you keep in your 7
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reticule.”
“Oh God—oh God—oh God.” Tori shook all over, terrified beyond belief. What was she going to do?
“Listen to me carefully, Tori. I will not harm you. We spoke last eve, do you not remember?”
He’s been there all along—in her house—
watching her? “H-h-how long have you been here?”
“Since you bought the mirror. The one that hangs by the door in your small hall.”
“Two months!”
“Yes, love,” he sighed. “Two months. You bought the small glass for a shade over twenty-five dollars. You already knew where it was to go the moment you lifted it from the shelf in the store.”
“You couldn’t possible know that.” Her fingers were turning numb where she clutched the towel.
“I know, Tori, because I am
in
the mirror.
You’ve only to come out and see for yourself.”