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The Reflecting Eye
Copyright © 2003, S. Y. Affolee

25

Breakfast


Half-awake, she sensed that something was not quite right. She rolled over to find that she was alone in bed. Had she dreamed everything? She debated for a second before getting up and covering herself with a robe.

Verity went downstairs to the dining room and kitchen and found Gammell standing at the table in his costume slacks and shirt pouring freshly made coffee into mugs that he had found in her cabinets. It was practically domestic, she thought. He had even managed to make eggs and pancakes and toast.

Sensing someone watching him, he looked up after he finished pouring the coffee. “Good morning,” he said. He sounded serious and he didn’t smile.

Verity wondered if he was staring at her because she wasn’t quite awake yet. She raked a hand through her hair, hoping she looked somewhat presentable. “Good morning. Is something wrong with me?”

“No, of course not.” He ducked his head, pretending to be preoccupied with arranging the food on the plates, but not before she saw a small grin curve the edge of his mouth upward. “Why do you say that?”

“You were staring at me.” She sat down and took one of the cups. “Well,” she amended, “you’re always staring at me, but this was a different stare.”

“You probably don’t want to know what I was thinking.”

She sipped some of the coffee and said stubbornly. “Yes I do. Tell me.”

He looked her in the eye and told her.

She felt blood rush to her cheeks. “But it’s too early in the morning for that!”

“It’s never too early in the morning.”

She felt her skin flushing further as he continued to look at her so she tried a different subject. “I didn’t know you cooked.”

To her relief, he finally turned his attention to buttering a piece of toast. “I cook out of necessity.”

“You don’t like cooking?”

“I didn’t say that.” His eyes slid over to the end of the table where Verity had left the old mirror lying face down. “And I didn’t know that you collected antiques.”

“I don’t. It was in some old boxes in the archives. I just cleaned it a bit.”

“It looks vaguely familiar,” he mused. “And to be honest, a bit disturbing, as if I were recalling it as some object that had appeared briefly in a bad dream.”

“Do you often have bad dreams?”

“Sometimes. It’s as if there was something that I had to do, but I didn’t know what. Maybe it has to do with the other thing, I don’t know. So many things are worrisome.”

“It’s what I wanted to ask you about,” she said. She reached over to take the mirror and place it in front of him. “There’s writing on the back of this.”

Gammell swallowed and took a sip of his coffee as he stared at the back of the mirror. He blinked slowly before glancing back at her. “I know the language it’s written in.”

“Well, what is it? What does it say?”

He hesitated before saying, “I shouldn’t. I’m assuming that since you found it in the archives, it used to be part of the Rothburne estate. I have heard that my ancestors have owned many strange things. Maybe they owned some things that they should not have had in possession in the first place.”

“And this is one of those things?”

“Perhaps.”

They finished breakfast and cleared the dishes. Gammell got up to get his coat which was lying on the table in the foyer. Verity came out to watch him put on his coat.

“I’m going to check up on some things for Pelorus,” he said. “You don’t have to come with me. You should take the day off.”

“You should take the day off too,” she replied. “It’s Fasting Day.”

“And tomorrow is unnamed. I wish I could take time off, but time is growing short, Verity. For a variety of reasons.”

She didn’t pretend to understand him. “All right. Dinner?”

“Where?”

“Here.”

He nodded. “Fine. And something tells me that you should keep that mirror safe, somewhere.” And then he disappeared out the front door.

Verity did not want to watch his car leave. Instead, she climbed back upstairs to take a shower and change.