flooded the room through lacy white curtains. Jordan frowned.
“Kale, what have you done to my house? Kale?” Jordan moved her chair toward the kitchen. “Huh. He must have left for the lab already.”
The smell of muffins and coffee grew stronger. “Something isn’t right here,” she mumbled. “Kale wouldn’t leave without waking me first.”
As she reached for the kitchen door, it suddenly swung open and a middle-aged woman poked her head out. “Maggie, time to get up. You’ll be late for school.”
Maggie? Did she say Maggie? What the hell was going on here?
Jordan reached again for the kitchen door. A young redheaded girl came up from behind and brushed by her. The girl pushed the door open and burst into the kitchen, leaving the door ajar.
The girl grabbed a muffin and said, “Mom, why did you let me sleep so late? I’ll miss the bus.”
The woman placed a kiss on the girl’s cheek. “You’re so dramatic, Maggie. The bus won’t be here for another few minutes. Sit down and have some juice with your muffin.”
Maggie sat at the table and tucked her unruly red hair behind her ears. Her mother handed her a glass of orange juice. “Thanks. Is Dad calling the vet this afternoon? I’d like to be here when the mare gives birth.”
Maggie’s mother poured herself a cup of coffee and sat at the table. “If she lasts that long. With any luck, you’ll be home before anything happens. The vet doesn’t believe she’ll foal until later tonight.”
Jordan sat in the doorway, not believing the scene before her. She inched her way into the room. “Ah, excuse me,” she said. “Excuse me, but what you are doing in my kitchen?”
“Your bus is coming, sweetie,” said the woman. “Have a good day at school.”
Maggie smiled at her mother and grabbed the backpack that was sitting on the end of the table. “I’ll see you this afternoon. Let’s hope the mare waits for me to get home. Love you, Mom,” the girl called before the door closed behind her.
Jordan sat there, incredulous. The woman carried her coffee cup and Maggie’s juice glass to the sink, rinsing them before placing them in an old-fashioned dish washer. What happened to the sonic cleanser? It was then that Jordan realized the kitchen was intact. The walls, the ceiling, even the floor that she had just spent the previous day scraping—everything was in order.
“What’s happening here?” she asked aloud.
A searing pain shot through Jordan’s head. She grasped her head between her hands. “Oh, my God, make it stop! Please make it stop.” The woman remained oblivious to Jordan’s presence as the pain increased and her throat began to seize. Jordan jerkily moved her chair to the sink. She needed a glass of water. She stretched to reach the glasses on the bottom shelf, but in her haste, she neglected to stabilize her chair. Before she realized what was happening, the chair tilted forward and slipped out from under her. Unconscious, Jordan fell to the floor.
Jordan awoke to an incessant pounding on her bedroom door. Kale called, “Jordan, get your carcass out of bed. The contractors will catch you in your skivvies if you don’t get moving. It’s not like you to sleep so late.”
Jordan looked over at her clock. It was 7:00 a.m. She blinked to clear her vision and then pushed herself into a seated position. She felt disoriented.
“Come on, get a move on. There’s coffee and muffins waiting for you in the kitchen. If you don’t get up soon, I’ll feed them all to Tom and his crew.”
Jordan looked at the closed door. Coffee and muffins? The dream. It must have been the aroma of muffins, but it was so real. Jordan pushed the remnants of the dream aside and called to Kale, “I’ll be right out. Don’t you dare give my muffins away.”
Jordan eased into her hover-chair and made her way to the kitchen. She slowed as she approached the living room. She stopped and looked around at the familiar Victorian and Queen Anne
“Kale, what have you done to my house? Kale?” Jordan moved her chair toward the kitchen. “Huh. He must have left for the lab already.”
The smell of muffins and coffee grew stronger. “Something isn’t right here,” she mumbled. “Kale wouldn’t leave without waking me first.”
As she reached for the kitchen door, it suddenly swung open and a middle-aged woman poked her head out. “Maggie, time to get up. You’ll be late for school.”
Maggie? Did she say Maggie? What the hell was going on here?
Jordan reached again for the kitchen door. A young redheaded girl came up from behind and brushed by her. The girl pushed the door open and burst into the kitchen, leaving the door ajar.
The girl grabbed a muffin and said, “Mom, why did you let me sleep so late? I’ll miss the bus.”
The woman placed a kiss on the girl’s cheek. “You’re so dramatic, Maggie. The bus won’t be here for another few minutes. Sit down and have some juice with your muffin.”
Maggie sat at the table and tucked her unruly red hair behind her ears. Her mother handed her a glass of orange juice. “Thanks. Is Dad calling the vet this afternoon? I’d like to be here when the mare gives birth.”
Maggie’s mother poured herself a cup of coffee and sat at the table. “If she lasts that long. With any luck, you’ll be home before anything happens. The vet doesn’t believe she’ll foal until later tonight.”
Jordan sat in the doorway, not believing the scene before her. She inched her way into the room. “Ah, excuse me,” she said. “Excuse me, but what you are doing in my kitchen?”
“Your bus is coming, sweetie,” said the woman. “Have a good day at school.”
Maggie smiled at her mother and grabbed the backpack that was sitting on the end of the table. “I’ll see you this afternoon. Let’s hope the mare waits for me to get home. Love you, Mom,” the girl called before the door closed behind her.
Jordan sat there, incredulous. The woman carried her coffee cup and Maggie’s juice glass to the sink, rinsing them before placing them in an old-fashioned dish washer. What happened to the sonic cleanser? It was then that Jordan realized the kitchen was intact. The walls, the ceiling, even the floor that she had just spent the previous day scraping—everything was in order.
“What’s happening here?” she asked aloud.
A searing pain shot through Jordan’s head. She grasped her head between her hands. “Oh, my God, make it stop! Please make it stop.” The woman remained oblivious to Jordan’s presence as the pain increased and her throat began to seize. Jordan jerkily moved her chair to the sink. She needed a glass of water. She stretched to reach the glasses on the bottom shelf, but in her haste, she neglected to stabilize her chair. Before she realized what was happening, the chair tilted forward and slipped out from under her. Unconscious, Jordan fell to the floor.
Jordan awoke to an incessant pounding on her bedroom door. Kale called, “Jordan, get your carcass out of bed. The contractors will catch you in your skivvies if you don’t get moving. It’s not like you to sleep so late.”
Jordan looked over at her clock. It was 7:00 a.m. She blinked to clear her vision and then pushed herself into a seated position. She felt disoriented.
“Come on, get a move on. There’s coffee and muffins waiting for you in the kitchen. If you don’t get up soon, I’ll feed them all to Tom and his crew.”
Jordan looked at the closed door. Coffee and muffins? The dream. It must have been the aroma of muffins, but it was so real. Jordan pushed the remnants of the dream aside and called to Kale, “I’ll be right out. Don’t you dare give my muffins away.”
Jordan eased into her hover-chair and made her way to the kitchen. She slowed as she approached the living room. She stopped and looked around at the familiar Victorian and Queen Anne
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