Autumm, 2006


The fire crackled in the living room's hearth, sending a snap of red embers higher than the stack of logs which burned under the constant heat of the flames. Unused to the sound, Reva stepped away and glanced down to inspect the warm glow; riveted for a brief spell by the rhythm of the fire's dance against the stone background. It felt strange to be in a new house, surrounded by furniture and items that first and foremost belonged to a stranger, similar to being in a bed and breakfast only there was not going to be a wake up call for her in the morning or citrus jams on pastries to eat. She made every effort to bring all her possessions into the house, and stacks of boxes was proof of all her work (and that of the moving company she hired.) Photographs that once lined the shelves of the small house in the woods now decorated the granite mantle over a fire place, including the one that always managed to captivate all her attention. The Doppelganger, the look alike, her twin from decades past.

The clothes were much different but anyone with a sense of style and history of fashion could tell that the mystery woman in the photograph wore a Chanel suit, classic cut and now vintage but in the day, quite the eye catching display of color and fabric. The woman's smile held a one-sided curve that gave her expression a playful glint, as if she had just shared a joke with the person performing the task of snapping the picture. Potted mums and a layer of leaves on the stairs lent some indication that autumn had been underway, and a portion of a jack-o-lantern's face appeared in the corner, accidentally out of focus. The more Reva stared at the blur, the clearer it became. "How can this be possible?"

Steam whistled through the spout of a teapot, the sound carried in the air from the kitchen's open double-doors into the dining area and, at last, to where Reva stood with the frame in her hand. Startled by the timing, she nearly fumbled the grasp but managed not to drop it. Setting it back in place, she gave one last look to the fire and turned to her right. A movement of shadow flickered across the closest wall, caught by her peripheral vision. Instinct caused her eyes to narrow in focus before they snapped to the other side of the room where the hall led to a set of stairs and a day parlor. "Is someone there?" Her voice rose over the constant shrill of the boiling water. "Hello?"

Knowing it to be impossible since she locked all the doors, front and back, and took every precaution in seeing the windows on the first floor closed tight, Reva hurried to the kitchen. Stove turned off, she reached over to reposition the teapot on a cool burner and let the whistling die down to silence. With her back to the kitchen doors, her gaze stayed low and unmoving even though every fiber of being sent a single message to her brain: turn around. She swallowed down the fear and forced herself to not let the overworking of her imagination get the better of her. Lashes pressed down to close her eyes for a silent count of ten. One. Two. Turn around. Three. Four. Now. Five. Six. It's behind you. Seveneightnine... "Ten!" She swung an arm out and to the side in a purely defensive motion. In the process, the side of her right wrist brushed the copper teapot but the quick burn did little to deter her from trying to force away whatever it was that loomed close.
The something turned out to be nothing but air, warm and scented by spiced apple and vanilla.

Chiding herself for being spooked by a large house and nothing more, her mouth turned into a smile and a soft laugh escaped her throat. "You of all people shouldn't be afraid of ghosts." Determined not to spoil the first few nights of complete independence, she set out a mug and spoon and prepared the tea to her liking. Boxes littered that room as they did everywhere else, and folded linen clothes were set in strategic piles on the table, and there was still much to explore in the cellar (though she was in no hurry to venture down there after dark.) Instead, she focused on getting one room at a time unpacked and decorated to her preference. Though, there was not much to change since the house was picture perfect to all her tastes. Even the smallest of vases, artwork, and knickknacks were items that she, herself, would have purchased if given the opportunity. The furniture in the living and dining rooms stayed, and she adored the set of couches and tables arranged in the parlor. The only place she felt compelled to make her own was the master bedroom.

All of the furniture that had been there was moved to the spare room that was blessedly empty save for a ceramic dragon of some sort that Reva decided would be an excellent addition to the parlor.
Rather than travel past the dining room, she took the shortest route to the stairs by crossing the main hall. A tall table had a vase of red tulips, something that had been present the day she moved in, was placed under an oval-shaped mirror. Stopping to check her reflection (habit of some kind) and tidy her hair, the hand holding the mug nearly lost hold of it -- another flicker of shadow appeared behind her, caught by the mirror and her gaze. "All right, this is not funny any more. Who's there?"

That time the front doorbell rang out in answer.

Autumn, 2006



The Pell Family Historical Association was run by two women, mother and daughter, who worked out of the first floor of their two story brownstone in the residential side of town. The front stairs were still decorated with garland, much of the greenery lost due to time and climate; and a pretty wreath hung on the door as a welcome to any who visited. Reva took the flight of stairs without any hesitation despite the length of her skirt and the heels on her boots, silent as she went over the mental list of questions prepared for the mid-morning meeting. Attentive, perhaps more so considering the contacts in her eyes provided an abundance of clarity, she stopped at the door and studied the etching cut into the translucent glass. Similar to the same pattern and design on the one attached to the hinges of her door on the Victorian, that alone assured her that she was -at the very least- at the right place.

"Ah, Miss Dirmen--" the older woman who pulled the door open surprised not only Reva who stood outside but herself once cataract eyes studied the face opposite her own. Stunned silent, she sputtered the next few syllables until words took formation. "Pardon me, it's just the resemblance is uncanny."

Reva nodded in complete understanding. That had been the reaction of a few after seeing a snapshot, and the woman's response was natural considering where the woman worked. "Yes, I've noticed. It's good to finally meet you...."

Picking up the slacking pause to introduce herself, a wrinkled hand extended for a handshake but then pulled back to motion them inside and into the wealth of warmth afforded in the brownstone. "Miss Kellington. Louise Kellington. Do come in." Gray-green eyes swept over the young woman, mesmerized for a few minutes by the likeness of someone that had once been so well known. At least to her mother. All Louise had were stories, photographs, and personal belongings saved from the house during the last few decades. "I hope you are enjoying the house. If there is anything you want removed, I have a service to take things to a local museum." Louise's hand motioned to a chair by the fire and due to her age, she chose to sit before her guest.

"Oh, no, everything is perfect -- in fact, that is the main reason I am here." Invited to sit, she took the closest chair and nearly missed the edge of the cushion when she caught sight of a picture over the mantle. A family portrait by the look of it, a father and mother stood behind a boy and girl. The girl had the same color of hair as Reva when younger, before the preference for blonde had her dyeing the length of it. "I was wondering what you can tell me about the Pell family, specifically Abigail. Aside from looking like this woman, it's like we share the same personality. You don't know me at all, and I realize that, but you've got to believe me when I say it's more than just the face."

"I wish I could tell you more," Louise tried to interrupt politely. "My mother is the real expert on Edmund's children. My specialty is the business. You see, after the Pells died in the '40s, one of the stock holders was my father. He tried so hard to keep the business running the way Victor and Edmund wished but with them both gone, many of the others thought it best to sell off the company to its competitors. A real shame, too. There was nothing as magnificent as a Pell jewel."

"I see." Reva's disappointment was as clear as a summer sky. "Would I be able to speak with your mother? As you can imagine, I'm very interested in all this. I tried to call my parents but neither knew the name Pell."

"She is not well these days, I'm afraid. But I suppose that is what happens when you reach the age of ninety-six. Not so spry as myself." The woman's joke caused them both to laugh. "Perhaps in another day or two she'll be more incline to have a visitor. Though, I do think sight of you will perk her up greatly. You see, she knew Abigail a long time ago. I don't think my mother ever got over her death, even so long ago. It was a terrible time then, with the war and all."

"Yes," Reva nodded sympathetically. "My grandmother has a hard time talking about the past, especially the war. She was in a concentration camp." The last sentence put into a reverent whisper.

"Ah. Most unfortunate. It never ceases to amaze me the things people could do."

"I should be going, I've taken up enough of your time," in truth Reva had a dozen of unasked questions but when she saw Louise try to hide a yawn, she decided for another time and, perhaps, with Louise's mother. Reaching into her coat which had not be shed from her shoulders, she retrieved a small card and a set of keys from the pocket. "This is my cell number, easier to reach me on this."

"I will call you when my mother---" her eyes drifted down to the picture set within a plastic frame hanging from the keys. "Is that your sweetheart?"

Reva released the card in favor of turning the picture upward to show a couple in a parasailing harness, the colorful chute vivid in the postcard perfect sky. Sweetheart. The single word made the corners of her mouth drift into a smile. "Yes, you can say that."

"Good, good." She stood on unsteady legs, prompting Reva to reach out for offered assistance. "Abigail had a young man in her life as well, they were to be married on Valentine's Day 1942."

"On Valentine's Day?" Reva almost let go of the woman's arm but instinct had her tightening fingers on the old woman's elbow for support until they stepped further away from the chairs.

Louise stopped, nodded in answer, then moved to a small desk on the far side of the room without further help from the younger woman. "I may not be able to provide much information, but I found this yesterday. There are a few more photos, and some letters. Many of them were never opened. My mother was insistent on keeping things private to honor Abigail's memory."

"Oh-- I couldn't." Even though she wanted to accept the box and all the belongings.

"Please, humor an old woman. Perhaps it's time the truth came out."

Late Autumn, 2006



Pieces of paper scattered across the floor from the oriental rug in the Orangery turned office into the east parlor room littering a trail of information ranging from xeroxed pages of history books to copied church records to letters written by Abigail Pell, and created a time line of events for Reva's constant perusal. She paced along the edge of all the papers, occasionally adjusting a page or switching it with another, and formed a makeshift family tree for not one but two families by the strategic placement of bright pink post-its. The Pells and Youngs, two families; one who drifted from city to country while the other had firm roots in the homeland of its youth. From what she could find, Bernard Young was a Jewish man who worked as an attorney for the brothers' jewelry business, and that position allowed both his family and Edmund's to grow close throughout the years. It explained how two young women of such varying backgrounds became the best of friends: Abigail and Rachel, or Rae, as the other affectionately called her. It was that name above all others that stunned Reva, stemming from an earlier conversation with Jake who, acting on Reva's behalf, researched some files at his workplace.


"I didn't find anything on her, because she hasn't died yet. But her father, mother, and brother all died together. Along with another young woman."
"That doesn't make any sense. She has to be dead."
"She will, she just hasn't yet. My books aren't wrong. Another woman died that day with Abigail's family. A Miss Young."
"I just read that name today. Young, the Young family had trouble leaving Germany once Hitler invaded Poland."
"Well, the Pell family had trouble too. Edmund and his wife Angelica and their son were all shot. Along with Rachel. But Abigail, her time hasn't come yet. Sorry, I can't be much help."
"Rachel. Rachel is Rae... in the letters. It's also my grandmother's name. Rachel Young is my grandmother."
"Well, I am very sorry to tell you that she was shot."


"It's impossible," Reva muttered to herself as she studied the position of the post-its circulation from the top branches of the Pell family down to the intersection of the Youngs/Dirmens and, finally, to where her own name was written in black ink. In 1941, the entire Pell family was shot to death. Unknown reasons, for now, but there was no mistaking that with that accident all of the Pell family was lost. She looked to the letters, all addressed to Rae but never delivered, and had been wrapped in a layer of velvet and tied by a white ribbon. The key to this mystery-- the house, Reva's likeness to its former owner, rested on the connection between the two women. Jake's words rang clear within her mind over and over, like a stereo player whose needle stuck on an scratched record album: she was shot, she was shot, she was shot.

Phone grabbed from the cradle on her desk, she pushed aside another set of folders and made space on the edge to prop an elbow for support when nervous fingers dialed a very specific number. On the fourth ring, a familiar voice answered.

"Hello?"

"Grandma, it's me. Reva."

"Reva, how are you-- what is wrong?" Just like any other time, the older Dirmen woman sensed trouble, or a situation, in the younger one. Rachel Dirmen, fast approaching her ninetieth year, always claimed that the two shared a sixth sense where the other was concerned. "Are you all right? Have you seen the asthma specialist that was recommended---"

"I'm fine, I'm fine!" She could not help but chuckle at the way her grandmother worried, clearly a common trait blood-born from one generation to the next. "Did Dad tell you about the house I just bought?"

A momentary silence filled the line. "Yes. I'm very proud of you. Work must be good if you can afford something after all the trouble in the summer. Are you planning any new acting projects now?"

"I didn't call to talk about my career, Gram. I.. eh.. need to talk to you about someone named Abigail Pell." Reva had expected there to be silence, and when it became deafening between different eras of Dirmen women, Reva knew the end answer to the riddle; but how it became that way had yet to be solved. "Are you Abigail Pell, Grandma? Are you the woman that everyone else thinks is dead and has been since 1941?"
Her hand started to tremble and the low strains of her voice cracked with a mix of emotions that she could never possibly define. "What happened that day? Why did Rachel die and Abigail live? Why are you pretending to be Rachel... why?"

The why's, the what's, and the I-don't-understand's blended into a mass of confusion, fear, and a void of loss for something she couldn't clearly describe. The only thing she wanted was answers, but now that they were all falling into place around her, the only thing she hoped for was sight of a black suit to tell her everything was going to be fine.

"I need to see you as soon as possible, Reva. There is a lot you need to know." Rachel, or the woman who'd been known as Rachel the past sixty years tried not to let welling emotions get the better of her. Or, even more heartbreaking, the thought that her granddaughter, her own flesh and blood was hurt because of it all.

"Please do not mention any of this to your parents. Please."

"I... Grandma, I don't understand any of this."

"You will. I promise, you will in time."



( Italics taken from play between Reva and Jake Ives )

Early Winter, 2006




The conversation faded while the two women moved from the parlor to the kitchen where Reva stalled in asking more questions by preparing a kettle of tea. Two mugs set on the counter, spoons beside them, matched the ceramic creamer and sugar bowl in both color and the hand-painted row of tulips. Rachel took a seat at the table, resting tired legs that once -many years ago- had as much energy as the younger one roaming from one cupboard to the other in search of flavored tea. Cataract-dark eyes scanned the room, finding it familiar, marked by Reva's presence, and something quite different. "Those are very pretty," Rachel remarked to start the talking once again, only that time she motioned to a vase of pink tulips that had long since been dried and preserved. "You always loved pink tulips."

On the first floor alone, in the living room and parlor, an assortment of vases had a selection of tulips -some pink, red, and some had bunches of camellias. Though the latter was kept for the flower's meaning, the rest were simply a preference she had ever since childhood. "A gift," Reva explained, hip propped to the front panel of knobs along the oven range. The blue glow of the flame under the kettle made the water inside rattle with the growing intensity of heat and steam. "From the man in my life."

"Ah, yes. Jake. The one who plays basketball with a rabbi." That fact alone had Rachel dipping a nod in approval.

"And a priest," Reva added, somewhat amused by her grandmother's purposely selective memory. "Speaking of which... are you really Jewish?"

Stunned by the question at first, the shock wore off to nothing but humor. "Yes. Some time ago, I converted. I thought it only fitting and fair. I could have easily changed my name and background after the war but too much happened during that time. I met your grandfather in the camp --he was the only person who ever knew the truth. He helped me with the language, and most of the prayers I knew from Rachel... the other Rachel. I always found it ironic that I survived by pretending to be a Jew during the Holocaust. Think of it. Millions died in horrible ways. Tortured, executed, maimed for life." Her left hand flexed and pulled down to expose the black brand of numbers along her forearm. Time and age diminished some of the color, some print covered by the growth of skin spots; the impact, however, was the same as it had been the winter of 1942. "When the war ended, your grandfather and I married. I could not find any of the Youngs ... I believe they all perished at another camp. I never looked back. Not until your father told me that you moved here of all places."

"Why didn't you tell me? I mean, look at this place. You are exactly like me."

"Long, long ago. At one time. Now," she chuckled low and stood on unsteady legs. "I have been Rachel for a lot longer than I'd ever been Abigail Pell. Bring the tea into the living room, please. The fire will help get rid of this chill." Rachel left Reva to finish the chore, and walked through the wood frame double-doors that separated the kitchen from the dining area. Again, she was overwhelmed by how much had stayed the same more than sixty years since she'd been inside the house. Paintings on the wall had been selected by herself and her Uncle on various trips across the country and Europe; and the mantle over the fire place in the living room was painstakingly crafted by three men who, later, served in the same concentration camp as she did. Wrinkled fingers caressed the stone and wood, bringing to life all the crevices and etchings that made up a design of her own imagination. Her gaze tilted up, passing the framed photographs --one of herself, Reva's friends who had become family, then on the one that made her stop short and stare in disbelief.

"Grandma, what is it?" Reva set the tray down on the coffee table serving as a buffer between the couch and the hearth. Worried all the stories, memories, and truth could catch up with the older woman, Reva stepped close and placed a gentle touch of her palm on the other's back. At first she suspected that the likeness of their appearances -as caught in the one snapshot- might have rendered her speechless. But when her blue-green gaze focused on the photograph of Thanksgiving at Jake's apartment, she felt her own heart skip a beat.

"Reva--- I know... knew him... years ago. His name... what is his name?"

"Jake Ives, Gram. His name is Jake Ives."

Spring, 2007


The acreage of the property spread across a wooded area in the back of the house, the boundary less than a quarter mile stopped at a small park designated with benches, a fountain, and a gravel path used by cyclists in the spring and summer. Not many utilized the area, however, and when Reva found the place, she decided that would be the perfect place for a memorial to honor her grandmother's life. A flat, granite stone had already been ordered. Slate gray with black engraving, it revealed a name (Rachel Young Dirmen) and the date of her death. Although her grandmother had been born Abigail Pell, another name and another identity saved her life during the course of World War II. It was that name Reva decided to honor. In doing so, it showed respect to two extraordinary women: her grandmother and the woman who died to save her life. In addition to the memorial stone, Reva orchestrated a garden to surround it. Every time she tried to imagine a perfect setting, one thing came to the forefront of her mind: the flowers she once saw at Alvaka. Delicate, bold, colorful, and unique --- the flowers encompassed each trait that her grandmother (and her best friend) possessed. Alone, one could marvel at their beauty. Together, however, in paired rows around the stone, they could show their strength and unity, and that only enhanced the gorgeous display of vibrant colors.

With a friend's unending help, the plans for the memorial were underway. The people he hired had worked the land until all snow was shoveled away and the soil churned deep and wide for planting in the spring. The heavy scent of moist earth hung in the air, giving her the impression of warmer weather even though the winter cold held on with fierce determination. Despite the weather, she stood by the memorial site in a thick cable knit sweater, a pair of jeans, and older boots which were now caked with mud. Two ducklings waddled around her feet in a chase of a dried leaf that must have done them personal insult. Their constant chirps grew closer to quacks every passing day, and the noise drew Reva's gaze away from the overturned land to keep an eye on the ducks. A thick folder was clasped in her right hand. The manilla tab labeled 'memorial' and contained order forms, city ordinances, and a stack of letters that were found in a wooden case some time back. More correspondence between her grandmother and the real Rachel Young. Try as she might, it pained Reva to read her grandmother's handwriting as it made the loss of her all the more real. But she finally found a series of letters that contained a riddle of information, and she was determined to solve it.

"Come on, kids," she called over to the ducklings who forgot all about the leaf once Reva's voice registered in their little heads. Turning, webbed feet brought them closer to Reva's boots and she carefully stepped over them to head back to the house. Her cheeks were tainted red from the cold and the tips of her ears and nose matched the pink of her sweater. Windswept hair brought strands of blonde in every direction, yet she only fussed with them when they crossed over her brow to block her eyes. The unlikely trio traveled together in relative silence (Aver quacked in disapproval when Nayok decided to momentarily wander away.) Nayok responded by nipping at Aver's tail feathers.

The back of the Victorian included a carriage house turned into a garage, a walkway to the woods, a stone patio with many pieces of furniture, a barbeque, a pond (and future home for the ducks) and a vast garden that boasted many plants and flowers, including many that Reva herself planted. Unlocking the door off the kitchen, she stepped inside and listened to the silence of the welcoming house. The scent of apple-cinnamon assaulted her senses and unleashed a flood of memories going back to her childhood. The ducklings followed in and kept to the kitchen area to inspect their food dishes. She almost called out but stopped herself in time. Door closed with an audible thud and an automatic click of a lock, she tossed the folder and keys down to the countertop. Determined to lose herself (for a few hours at the very least) in a project, she chose the one closest to her heart. Her hip claimed a lean on the wicker seat of a stool, and she opened to folder to find the quartet of letters: two from Rachel, two from Abigail. The two friends spoke a language all their own, patterns and hidden messages to one another. At first Reva suspected it had to do with news on the war but the more she thought on it, the less likely that appeared to be. Yellow highlighted words were paired with marks of underlined red.

Seven hours later...

Reva sat cross-legged on the living room floor surrounded by over three dozen letters between the two friends. It took two boxes worth of material but she finally found the pattern they used to relay messages to one another. Rachel adored riddles, and she must have taught Abigail the system. It was very similar but not exact to the one that had been passed to Reva as a child (her grandmother shared with Reva to keep secrets hidden in her Hello Kitty diary.) A trio of words reappeared in each letter: diamond, house, dragon. She leaned forward to cut a look passed the hall to the parlor where a ceramic dragon sat stoic and proud on a table. "No doubt that's the dragon," she informed Nayok who stared at her with black eyes. "What diamond and what house?" The duckling responded in a shake of dark yellow feathers. "What help are you?" Nayok quacked indignantly.

"All the other houses belonging to the Pells were destroyed. Except this one." Reva recalled the history from the Pell Family Society when she looked into purchasing the Victorian. "And there's the legend that a honkin' big diamond was never found --it was supposed to be the majestic piece of the family business." The more she spoke to herself (and the ducks) the more interested she became in the Pell family once again. Although she wished for a distraction to keep her mind occupied with other thoughts, she started to worry about what else she might uncover.

After all, some skeletons were better left hidden away.

Late Autumn, 2007



Though the walk was not far by her standards, they passed the business area close to the tavern and soon started to come to a more remote area. The scent of car fumes was slowly replaced by sea air: a mix of water and salt, and the sounds were changed from honking horns to an occasional bell on a buoy bobbing in a harbor. That particular area of the docks had been trendy with a few cafes and restaurants; a small inn and several businesses which needed to be close to the water front. A couple of buildings, well kept and with sound structure, were empty and some 'For Sale' signs were nailed into the front walls. "I had a talk with my financial advisor a month ago, and he suggested that I invest some money.. so.." She stopped in front of one building, the only one with black stone walls and boarded up windows, one of the folders opened to reveal a lease and an envelope with both their names on it. "It's ours. I was thinking of a club."

To be walking closer to the sea did not surprise Jake at all, knowing Reva's fondness for the ocean, and having been in the area before, he suspected dinner at a restaurant. Overlooking the ocean at sunset, ---it was a quiet and enjoyable way to spend the rest of his day with her. So content with this theory, he left off much more teasing about window shopping and begging for clues as to where they were going. When she mentioned the financial advisor, he tipped his head and listened, not particularly noticing that they were stopping or that she was opening up one of the folders. "Yeah ----" And then his mouth hung open. There was no more stonefaced Jake, but the look of utter shock was plastered on his features. He stared at the lease she was showing him, but it was likely that he did not even see it. "......." After more than a minute of silence, since the shock needed time to settle before he blinked and looked from Reva to the piece of paper and to the building in front of them. "Are you serious?" To simply say that Jake was blown away would not be enough. Like a magnet, he was pulled to the building and trying to see through the boarded up windows. Then again, he could just go right through the wall.....but this idea seemed to have slipped right out of Jake's head!

The entire time that silence filled the air between them, the edge of her teeth nipped at her bottom lip. It took a few moments to judge his reaction and she slipped out the envelope from the folder, its contents jingling with the telltale sound of loose keys hitting one another. The building itself was two stories, the boards on the windows protecting the glass behind it; black slate was trimmed in gray around the double doors that had a chain and lock. The ground where they stood was a combination of cobblestones, offset by wood that led to a railing twenty feet from the door; nothing but ocean on the other side. "I figured it's far enough from Smoke Daddy's that it won't take away their business... and, well... I always wanted to see you as happy as you were in that picture." The one he showed her in front of his first club. "I wasn't sure how you'd feel about it," rambling while she fished a key out of the paper to unlock the chain that fell in a heap and a loud clatter. No doubt she'd been there before --likely the place where she obtained a cobweb! "It needs some work but we're good at that." Meaning her planning and his handiwork.

There was no effort put forward to make the excitement and happiness in his face while he was attempting to peer inside and then looked over to spot Reva unlocking the door. It was all he could do to hold the door for her to head inside before him, and then following right inside. "It's far enough. It's perfect. Are you kidding? This is fantastic. I didn't think that I was being obvious that all I really wanted to do was open up a place here, but I figured that since everyone else I meet at the tavern is always opening up some joint and some keep it for a little bit, and others ---well they're just doing so well I guess, it just makes me so jealous that I don't have that anymore. The happiest times of my life was when I was working on a new club and running it, but I never thought that you would.." rambling on as he looked up and around and then back to her. "This is perfect. You are perfect. I love it." Even if the plumbing was bad, if there was mold and termites and soon it could fall into the ocean --it was perfect.

With her back to him while they left the sea air in favor of dust and cobwebs, there was a visible sigh of relief and the beginnings of a brilliant smile. Her hand reached over to the wall close to the door and flipped a switch that turned on a single light hanging from a bulb off the ceiling. "I was very hesitant about this but... I kept looking at that picture of you in front of the club and, well, I wanted you to have that back. I know it won't ever replace the first one or any of the others but..." Her turn toward him had a hand drifting to him, presenting him with one of the keys. "We're perfect," correcting him with a sly grin. "And the place was inspected before I bought it; everything is on the up and up --it's a young building, only five years old. Plumbing's good, electric might need updating depending on what you want." Inside the space was open and wide; the back wall had a door that led to hall with access to the second floor as well as the basement. "Do you really like it?" No matter how much dust settled on her clothes, she didn't even notice it.

With the key pressed into his hand, he glanced down from it to her and nodded. "I really like it. I love it. And I'm not just saying it, but you don't know how much this means to me." Dust settling or cobweb collecting didn't matter to Jake, he pulled Reva close in a sincere hug and kiss. "Thank you." And since he really was like a kid in a candy store, he was looking up and around again. "So what are you thinking? Anything in particular? Have you already made any lists?" Half teasing and half sincere on that last one before he was making an attempt to wander around and head for the door on the back wall. "You're not going to regret this." Well maybe if Jake is always here and never home, but that's a bridge to cross later, right?

She smiled against the kiss and added a tight squeeze of his shoulders when her arm looped around him. Though she suspected he wanted to search the place, her hold was brief. Excitement swiftly replaced any worry that she had had about the surprise and she followed him, looking at the space with a whole new perspective. "I love that it makes you happy." That, of course, was her main objective, especially on his day off! "Actually, I haven't come up with anything," she looked over to see if he believed it. "After all, you're the one with all the experience." The main area had more than enough space for a full bar, tables and chairs, and a dance floor... and room to spare. "I haven't checked out the cellar but the real estate agent said it's got plenty of shelves and storage." Reva and basements didn't mix! "Upstairs is the length of the first floor. Good for an office or whatever you need."

He blinked and glanced over his shoulder and back to Reva, apparently surprised that she didn't already have any plans yet. "Really? We'll have to start with a name and build off the theme from there then." He opened the door and though Reva and basements didn't mix, that didn't stop Jake from taking the stairs down to see where the service entrance was, if there was one, and check out the space for shelves and storage. He wouldn't linger for very long though since he suspected Reva would not be following him down, but she might follow him up. "This is just great. Do you happen to know what was here before? The area isn't bad, it's not overwhelming with people, but that can always change and fast."

The service entrance was off the alley between their building and the one closest on the right; another one for sale but the property was going fast. Just as he suspected, Reva stayed in the dimly lit hall and stood at the top of the stairs waiting for him to come back. "The previous owner moved away but from what I gathered, he wanted to make some sort of a club as well. His lawyer was his proxy at the closing but I have all his information here." She lifted the other two folders in reflex. "I haven't thought about a name... in fact, up until we got here, I wasn't even sure if you'd like it, so I tried not to get my hopes up or make any plans."

"How could I not have liked it? Did you really think that I wouldn't?" Asking even as he led the way up the stairs to the second floor to check out what could be labeled as 'the office'. No decisions yet! But it didn't hurt to check out all the exits and walk ways and any glimpses of plumbing or outlet locations. Roof access was likely next on his list of things to check out. Once he was upstairs however, he did turn back to her and nod. "Well, since it is ours, I want the both of us to agree on major decisions like the name. Which I don't expect to you object to that," winking over to her. "What do you think of the place? I mean, obviously you like it. There was something in it that drew you in. Am I asking you too many questions? I can give you some time to think about it if you want." Nodding before a glance around and then back to here. "Any ideas yet?" Ha!

Her smile lingered in delight and amusement, watching him like a child with a brand new toy. "Well, I know it's something you had ... before," the way she stressed that word, it was obvious that she meant before he died. "I wasn't sure if you wanted to have it again or the responsibility. Going up a flight was never an issue and used whatever light filtered in from the cracks in the boarded windows and the lone light from the main area. Just like the downstairs, the second floor was completely bare and a blank canvas for design possibilities. "I liked it because it's by the water," not surprisingly. "Far enough from the riff-raff on the docks and it's a growing business area, and it's a great investment." Her voice softened when she continued, hand in a light touch on his arm. "Remember when I told you that I felt an attachment to the Victorian? I had a similar feeling when I walked in here for the first time. It felt right ... and like I belonged-- we belonged." She grinned at him asking her for ideas; by morning he'd probably have a list post-it'd to his forehead! "Water Front Blues?" Sprouting the first thing that popped into her head.

This seemed to be one aspect that he wouldn't mind having a list a mile long to work on and go through so swifty after stumbling upon it. "I think you're right on that." On the thought or feeling as if they belonged there. For her name suggestion there was a slow nod. "I like it." Deciding after a moment before he was looking around and then rubbing his jaw a moment. "What do you think about knocking down this floor and opening up the downstairs? I mean, this is more than enough space for an office and we wouldn't have to take out the complete floor. Adjust for the acoustics and the bar should be on the back wall down stairs I think. Right below the office we can have the restrooms and the coat check, and we'll have plenty of space for a stage and a dance floor downstairs." Rattling off and continuing on, he even started back down the stairs to double check his vague plans.

She tried to put images to the plans that he suggested, nodding slowly and glancing around at the beams and open spaces in some of the walls. "That's a great idea. There's more than enough space for almost anything." Her area of expertise, no doubt, was going to show after the work was completed: colors, fabrics, furniture. Following downstairs, her perfume helped alleviate the dust and must-scent of the closed up building. Once again she brushed a cobweb from a shoulder and reached up to make sure nothing
clung (or worse, crawled!) in her hair. Downstairs was lit more and made it easier to envision some possibilities. "I just want one thing from all this --that on the night it opens, you sing for me." Her free hand gestured in no particular direction but she envisioned a stage, a microphone, and a black suit.

"Is Cooper working? Has he found a job? Because I might ask him to help me out some." Taking out a floor by yourself did not seem to be an option. Nevermind that it wouldn't be a worry that Jake would fall to his doom, but still. Once he was downstairs, Jake gestured in various directions, placing locations for certain things in his head and glancing Reva's way when he caught her request. "You want me to sing for you?" Quirking a brow up in surprise, because it wasn't as if he had never sung to her before. In fact...just recently he was the image of a disco ball and crawled on the porch!

"I can give him a call tomorrow and ask him. Last I heard he was fixing up some cars." In her frame of mind, she was trying to pick different colors for the walls and ceiling, and tried to picture different styles of flooring. Distracted out of her thoughts by his question, she flashed a smile his way --likely catching some of his brainwaves. "So long as you're not in silver ... or sequins for that matter. And, yes, I want you to sing for me. I'm so easy to please, aren't I?" The dimple in her cheek started to show. "I'm never going to see you again." It certainly was not a question, nor was it a complaint. In fact, she'd never been happier!

"Well, I'm sure I could at least ask him to help me out and he'd do it if he needed work or not." Knowing Cooper well enough he'd offer his help in any way he could. There was a low laugh before a light humph that followed. "I thought you liked the disco era." Grinning and winking her way before he looked around with arms extended one moment. "Nope, probably not." When his arms dropped and looked back over to her, it was apparent he couldn't be much happier either. "I don't think you'll have to worry unless I set up some sleeping wards in here and a bed." Winking over to her before making it clear he agreed to her request. "I will be happy to sing for you. Anything else?" Or if she had a specific song in mind.

"Oh no, no beds here! That's rule number one. You start sleeping here and I move your bed into my room." She reached over to poke his chest against the sweater. "No special request, surprise me." Of course that meant she'd been nagging him for hints all the time. And when he spread his arms wide, she took advantage of the position and wrapped an arm around his waist. "I'm thrilled that you're happy." A year ago, a single brief smile made her day ... his reaction to this was enough to keep her giddy for a month, maybe six. Turning her face, she looked over the place one more time. "Here's to our future."

"Pfft. I'd take my bed here!" Lying with a grin and chuckling as she poked his chest. Keeping in mind that the song was expected to be a surprise, he figured he'd come up with something. Besides, even if he worked as quickly as he could, the club would not open next week or tomorrow. Returning the favor and wrapping his arm around her waist and leaning in a bit with a squeeze. Then looking down at her and pressing a kiss to her temple. "I'm extremely happy." Agreeing with her before looking over the place as well, probably already able to see it all in his mind's eye. "Here's to the Water Front Blues." If he had his suit, he might have had his flask and they could have toasted to it with a drink. Not that Reva would really want a swig of absinthe, but oh well!

"I think the timing is good, too. Between all the holidays coming up, work and... this... we don't have to rush anything." Loosening her arm from his waist, she lifted a hand to pluck a few strands of cobwebs from his sweater and some from his hair. "Actually, this was going to be your Christmas present but we were able to get everything done fast. Now I have to come up with another idea!" Mock complaining with a short exhaled sigh. "So now you're a business owner again." She smiled up to him and though it wasn't said aloud, there was no denying the emotion in her eyes.

"This is a perfect present. I'm not going to want anything else." Teasing her, though truly the idea of another club or bar had always been on his mind for a long, long, close to seventy years, time. And for her last comment, he tsked and reminded her, though the fact that he was again was true. "We are business owners. Think we could swing this all in two months. Open for New Years Eve, what do you think?" It was going to be hard to get him to think off this topic, hopefully Reva wasn't going to mind too much.

"I think that is a great idea," her smile blossomed in total agreement. "With the two of us working on this, anything is possible!" She proved on more than one occasion that she could handle a paint brush and nothing inspired her more than a project. "I'm thinking lots of dark colors, smoky grays and blues." Leaning next to him, she pictured a couple of different options on the walls and when her gaze flickered upward, lighting became the next issue in her thoughts. "We'll need to hire some people, too-- no redheaded waitresses." Rule number two, apparently.

"I would say that I'm not feeling a full blown nautical theme, but I don't really think that you'd go in that direction." So Jake was not worried! Agreeing with her color palette though, he chuckled at her second rule coming into play. "I was going to make red hair be a uniform requirement." Winking in the tease before nodding. "We can either interview everyone together, or I will take photos and you can approve of them or not." Jake however, was really particular about who he hired. Often enough there was a reason why Jake was never home from his clubs, he worked and ran them almost single handedly. Picky man. Let's just say it probably won't be any random people they meet at the tavern.

"Definitely not." Her nose wrinkled at the mention of nautical themes. "Aside from a few shades of blue, dark ones." At least she never mentioned any pink! The tap of her boot lasted only a few seconds, just long enough to make her point that red hair was not going to be uniform! A slow grin started to appear, showing that she was in no way serious. "You're the one with the experience in this department, though I do know a good waitress when I see one." She waited tables longer than she acted professionally. "Between our schedules, I'm sure we can arrange interviews and hire good, reliable people."

"Should start thinking of speciality drinks too." Well, that perhaps is for a later time, but it never hurt to be prepared! Distracted with the bar that he 'saw' along the far wall before looking back down to her with a nod. "I have the uttermost confidence. Not worried about a thing. This is going to be great." He just might never stop grinning. ---Well, except for when he has to go in and do his actual job.

"That is your department, too!" She chuckled in pure amusement at the mention of specialty drinks. "Though, maybe something pink that we can call the Flamingo... Or the Twisted Straw." Give her time, she'd come up with names, not necessarily the alcohol. She'd end up poisoning someone! Turning, the folders shifted into a spot against her ribcage, freeing her other hand to settle at his side. No pockets to pick this time unless she went into his pants! "I haven't seen you this happy since you begged me to remodel some closets." Adding a good amount of exaggeration there.

He did not hide any surprise notes in there, well just yet. "I can test recipes on you, no problem." Grinning at that before quirking a brow upwards. "I do not remember begging you to let me remodel any closets actually." He eyed her a moment, but could tell by her expression that it was just a tease and he wasn't losing his mind --or it wasn't something that he had coincidentally forgotten about. He did try to decide when was the last time he was this happy, though it was probably upon meeting Robert. Though that was very much tied with nerves and this time wasn't!



(( Taken from live play between Reva and Jake Ives eons ago! lol ))

Early Spring, 2008


Exhaustion was something he'd grown accustomed to, but the stubborn chain smoker would milk all energy he had until it was all gone. Running on empty, Jake arrived to the pink Victorian before midnight and was unlocking the front door to head inside. No doubt greeted by a black cat perched on the steps leading upstairs and he was sure he would hear a series of quacks alerting everyone that someone was here. "Hi honey, I'm home." Calling out as he locked the door behind him and started pulling off his coat to hang it up and put it away. Then his hand was reaching up to loosen his tie and then fingers worked the buttons on the vest underneath his suit coat while he searched out Reva's location in the house.

Who needed an alarm system with Spawn on the stairs and the duo of ducks who waddles at the very top of the flight, quacking loudly as if they were sounding out the call --but they did none other than let Jake know Reva was likely upstairs. True to their quacks, a voice drifted down the hall. "I'm up here." Most of the doors, except for Jake's, were open but hers was the only one with a lamp on that spilled into the wide, carpeted corridor. Having showered and changed into pajamas, her hair was still wet as it clung closer to her neck in deeper shades of wheat-brown rather than blonde. Standing in front of her dressing table, she finished with the brush and lowered it next to a small vase of gardenias. She waited a few moments to gauge whether or not Jake was going to see her there or spend time downstairs. Nayok and Aver, however, seemed content in keeping guard between the stairs and the bedroom.

And what an interesting, and rather Rhydin fitting, alarm system the trio was! "Don't worry, I'm sleeping tonight." Murmured to his guardian as he leaned down a moment and rubbed his head affectionately. Hearing Reva's voice and either catching the shadows of the ducks trailing about or direct sight of them, Jake started up the stairs and headed towards Reva's room first. Leaning against the door frame and tipping his head inside to check in and see what she was up to. He tsked at her attire and covered his eyes with one hand. "Miss Dirmen, you're not dressed. The scandal." Nevermind he's seen her in less! There was a sharp exhale and he peeked through his fingers while the brow waggling could almost be seen.

"I'm in flannel," which was the truth! A plaid flannel shirt had long sleeves and was tucked into a matching pair of bottoms that were almost too long for her to wear but the hem was cuffed three times to avoid any injury. At first she continued looking at the mirror, both hands working to fasten the length of her hair into a braid before she gave up on the take without completion. Ready to add something about scandal, she happened a glance in his direction. "I--- you look exhausted." Both Nayok and Aver, confident that their guard work was done for the night, waddled back to the bedroom and thought nothing of crossing over Jake's shoes to reach their destination: a pair of pillows side by side on the floor next to her bed. "Are you all right?" Leaving her current position, she headed for the door to stand in front of him, eyeing him critically and expectant.

The fact that she announced the fabric and was pretty much covered from head to toe amused him that much more. At her change of the subject, and the ducks walking right on over him, he dropped his hand and took another step or so into her bedroom to close the distance between them while she inspected him. "Oh, am I losing color? Is that what gave it away?" Cracking another poor joke, he knew it was more along the fact that he was slumping and his body language shouted his energy level more than anything else. So he didn't bother denying it. "Of course, I'm fine. I am sleeping tonight, don't worry. I will be perked right up tomorrow." Promising, even if he wasn't completely looking forward to it.

"If you were any paler you'd be translucent." Not that she had any room to talk! Without makeup, the shadows around her eyes were all the more pronounced and the blue-green seemed lackluster and less vibrant than usual. "But I can always tell," she gave his chest a very light swat before her hand lifted higher to brush dark strands of hair away from his brow. "I'll put the charm on tonight," and do whatever else needed to be done prior to any sleep. "Do you need anything before you fall asleep?" Though she experienced the routine before, there was no shaking the obvious concern that filled her expression. It was a day filled with them.

"I can pull that off." The moment he finished claiming that he wondered if it was something to be proud of or not. The debate in his head disappeared while she swatted him and agreed to go put the charm on for the night. His head still a bit tipped, he pretended to be thoughtful for a moment, or he just might have almost fallen asleep right there standing up, "A good night kiss." Deciding with a wink before he straightened up as well as he had the strength to, and then reached up to undo his tie completely. "Awe, don't worry. I promise I won't destroy the house." Well, he's fairly sure he won't.

"Don't do it." She eyed him in warning. Bad enough when he snuck up on her or went through closed doors! "And that can be arranged," she stayed in front of him and shoo'd his hands away to unknot the tie and slid it out of the shirt collar. To start the rest, she unfastened a couple of buttons as well but stopped there --not out of propriety but to do as he requested: give him a goodnight kiss. Her lips touched the corner of his mouth, and one arm hooked around his shoulder to keep him close a second or two. Her eyes closed in a flutter of lashes, mouth parting to say something but failed when she leaned back down to her middling height. It took less than three steps to go back to the dressing table where two different jewelry boxes acted as bookends to a few smaller picture frames, and she found the charm needed for her protection. Finally, she looked over to him as she fastened the bracelet on her wrist and started his way to help with whatever else was needed. "Besides, you break it, you fix it. Or buy a new one."

He reached to snag the tie from her once it was removed, less she steal another one of his ties! And then leaned in willingly for his goodnight kiss. He peeked back down to her as she started but stopped to say something and quirked a brow up as she retreated to find the bracelet. "What is it?" Asking while he shifted his shoulders and started to pull his suit jacket off. Then he turned for the door and started into the hallway as he nodded. "Both of those I can do." Agreeing easily with those requirements, which weren't new to him. For now Jake went ahead to his room, opening the door and turning the light on so he could discard the pieces of his suit to his closet and the side to be collected for the dry cleaners.

"Nothing," the single admission able to be spoken before he left her room in favor of his. Not too far behind, she closed her door with an audible click and ventured down the hall to where the light tumbled out of the otherwise dark bedroom. Her hand lifted and rapped a quick warning knock that she was there and peeking. Not that she expected to see anything she hadn't before (namely boxers!) Her gaze scanned the room for things to take away but she made no move go further inside until he was ready. "When was the last time you slept?"

"Uh huh." His response to show that he didn't particularly believe her, but wouldn't press, just yet. Aware that she wasn't far away, he was just standing in front of the closet, and not down to his boxers yet! But the suit jacket, tie, and vest were all off and he was still unbuttoning his dress shirt before the suspenders were rolled off his shoulders and hung to his sides. A glance over his shoulder back to her, pausing long enough to think about it. "Shortly after the club opened. After the first week. Probably been too long." A touch of a frown with a shrug before the dress shirt was off, the undershirt still there as well as his slacks. "Are you going to watch me and be worried all night or are you going to sleep too?" Looking back to eye her.

While he finished undressing and putting the suit pieces together for a trip to the dry cleaner, she stepped into the room and started to take some items into the hallway: plastic bins of arts and crafts, and a box of dress-up pieces. "I'm probably going to watch you and worry." At least she didn't lie! The sleeves of her pajama shirt were tugged up both forearms, proof that she planned on doing as much as possible to ready the room before any dreams took place. "And you're right, it's been too long." Good thing they didn't live in a glass house with the stones she tossed from time to time. "You should have done this sooner." Inwardly, however, she was grateful he didn't do it while she'd been away. Pausing in the middle of preparing the room, she stopped to look at him and exhaled a steady stream of breath to knock a strand of drying hair away from her face. "Maybe tonight won't be so bad." Ah, lovely optimism.

Before going ahead and removing his slacks and going around in his boxers, he moved to help Reva carry items out of the room and into the hallway for the time being. "Well, sometimes important things come up." Deciding to turn it on her a little, or as much as he could, he glanced her way when she paused and shared her optimism. "Maybe it'll go better if I knew that you'd be sleeping." Gentle in his suggestion before he began putting various items, particularly pictures and such, high out of reach to finish preparing the room. In truth, it was easier to be limited to one room than to have to do the entire place. "Did you have a nice day today?"

She made a little bit of a face when he turned it on her, not that she could blame him. Rather than comment on the emotions she'd been feeling for the last several weeks, she relented about being steadfast in the vigil while he slept. "I usually sleep better when you're here." The admission came within a ghost of a smile, gaze distracted in searching the room for any item they might have missed. She eyed the picture of her in a squirrel suit and gave a tempting thought of putting that in harm's way during the course of the night, even if it was a frame she bought for him! "Plus, you know I like to sleep in your bed." After all, they argued about what room to put it! "Mmhm," nodding to the last question even if it was in no way full of detail. "We can talk about it tomorrow when you're awake."

Oh, she could be sure that Jake put that favorite photo of the squirrel suit out of reach! And if she moved it, he surely would have noticed and fixed that problem quickly. "Oh, true." Agreeing about her favoritism of his bed. "All right." Easily agreeing as he checked to make sure that Spawn had wandered into the room before he was going to shut the door and activate the ward. A moment or two later he was undressed and the pieces of his suit were all hanging, with the undershirt in the regular laundry, and he was pulling back the sheets to climb into bed. "Good night Lambylocks." Avoiding a sweet dreams comment, at least for tonight.

"Night, SnookumBear," murmured as she made her way into the bed and crawled over him to get to a specific side of the bed. Had it been the dead of summer, she probably wouldn't have minded the chill, but since it was still late winter, she stuck her legs and hips under the blankets and yanked them high up to her shoulders with both arms covered. Her face turned toward him, eyes opened as she watched and waited, waited and watched, and struggled in vain to force herself to stay awake. Before long, she was on her side and facing him, breathing slow and steady (without snores!) and a hand draped over his chest.


(( Play between Reva & Jake Ives ))

Early Spring, 2008



Once they were well away from the tavern and on the road that led home, Reva's pace slowed to something more leisurely rather than urgent. Traffic flowed well due to the hour of the evening, and most of the storefronts they passed were closed save for the florist shop. The owner waved to the couple when they passed and Reva turned to return the sentiment as well. "I can't believe you streaked." Her mind was a whirlwind of topics and several loomed in the forefront but she specifically chose that one to, perhaps, start the conversation on a light-hearted note.

The florist shop that never closed! Probably due to the fact that the owner lived upstairs and it proved to be fruitful for his business to be open nearly at all hours. Jake waved back to the owner as they passed the shop before looking over to Reva with a quirked brow. "Why not? Why wouldn't I have? It was just you, Paiva, one young girl and Charles there. I guessed that Paiva would look away because of you, the girl would gasp and look away, Charles is a guy and I'm dating you. Didn't see a reason to shy away from it I guess."

"You're a braver person than I am." But that wasn't much of a surprise. Her hand dropped along the suit coat, from the upper arm down to the cuff where her fingers clasped the fabric loosely. "I guess when you put it that way, it makes sense." The pause between topics didn't last very long. "So... what's going on?" Rather than beat around the bush, she headed straight into the shrub. "I haven't seen you drink this much in a long time."

"It felt good. To do something silly and a little stupid." Admitting. "I haven't gone streaking in a long long time. And it's a little more taboo for girls to do it anyway." Easily to Reva as he nodded and then caught the change of subject. "Hnnn...." He didn't want to talk about it, but after avoiding it for the entire day, it seemed there was no way around it now. "It was just a lot to take, that dream. And I mean, I know it was just a dream, but....still. It shook me up."

"You've done it before?" She made no effort to disguise the fact that she was teasing in her feign incredulous tone. Although she knew very well how he felt about discussing certain topics, something about it all made her relentless in finding out more details. "Remember how I was after I had that dream about our wedding? It shook me up for weeks." In truth, it still crept into her memory every now and again. It didn't help that she had another similar one the night of the head-in-a-box incident. "When you didn't tell me about yours right away, I just assumed you forgot it after you woke up." The landscape started to change when they altered course down another street, this one far more residential than business. Less traffic, few street lamps, it was quiet and dark. A fitting atmosphere. "What happened?"

There was a nod and a shrug. "You try growing up in an orphanage in the teen's and coming up with stuff to do. We were just being kids." Explaining the last time he'd gone streaking. When she mentioned her dream, he just nodded, and kept his attention more on their surroundings and the path they were taking. "No, I didn't forget it." Lowly murmuring before finally glancing to her for the last, and very direct, question. "It was like ---well, no I guess it wasn't like your dream. But I ---" To go around the bush or straight through? "I was proposing and instead of saying yes, you listed off every reason why you wouldn't want to be with me, why I'm wrong for you, and...." Jake shrugged. "It wasn't easy to hear."

They had just come upon the entrance of a city park when he finally admitted the truth. The stone columns with a wrought iron top boasting 'Field's Park' were alit by twin lamp posts on either side of the path. Their destination was well past the park but his words stilled all her movement. Her arm drifted out, hand still hooked by his sleeve, and served as an anchor of sorts between them. Her mouth opened to say something but for several brief moments, only silence prevailed. Although it was not very much like her dream, the impact and hurt it caused was definitely in the same ball park. Her eyes stayed trained on his face and profile, searching for expression that she knew was not going to be easy to find. "It was only a dream." Her words were weak at the start, soon finding more strength as she tightened her hold on his arm. "I know how hard that must have been, but it was only a dream."

He stopped along with her, but in the silence out in front of the park, Jake continued to only look down the way that they were going. His shoulders sank a bit while her hold on his arm tightened and he turned to look over and down to her. "Only a dream, but how much truth is there actually to it? We've gone through this before with your dream. You pointed out that you were afraid that I wouldn't be there. It could happen, as in there's a really small chance, but I don't really think that it would happen because it doesn't seem to make the lesson complete. But how much truth is actually in mine? You've already brought up half the things that were listed in it."

"What did I say in the dream?" She asked even though she had a very good idea after he explained some had already been mentioned. Her hand dropped away from his arm since they stopped walking, though she stepped closer to stay in front of him whether he looked or way or someplace else. Her heart raced under the fabrics of both the sweater and the raincoat, the length of the outer garment long enough to cover most her thighs and knees. But the chill that seeped well into her skin had nothing at all to do with the March air. "There are worries I have, yes. But..." She forced herself to stop until she knew precisely what consisted in the dream itself.

"You said that I will always look like this, but you'll age. I will always be this way and I can't change. I can never get away from my work, I can't retire and be with you, and that what I do truly bothers you. But I have to do this Reva, because if I don't, it won't be for the better." He slipped in an explanation, maybe because he was concerned that it was true and she needed to know or be reminded of why his job was difficult, but important. "You said that I can't have children, that I can't have sex --well, not like anyone normally can at least. That I'm cold and I'm dead and I would turn you into a lonely old housewife and that nothing would really change if we did get married, just that you had a new ring and no way to get away from me unless we were divorced." Expressions on him were always rare, but as he spoke, a look of complete rejection spilled forth.

She wasn't sure what effected her more, the words he said or the expression that appeared on his face. Her first response was a visible wince that made her eyes close for a mere fraction of a second. Some of it, as he said, were things she had told him but other parts were things she never once thought let alone would say. She did nothing but stare at his face for what could have very well been an eternity. It wasn't until an owl in a nearby tree rustled the conifer branches that she spoke. Nothing but a whisper at first, her tone was soft and sad. "I've never minded what you do, I understand your job. I know what happens when you don't do it. And I certainly wouldn't think of marrying you as being a trap." Her entire body trembled and she forced it away by easing her shoulders up and down. "I'm worried about some things, yes. But.. it's like I said before, it's a matter of sacrifice--- unless... Do you think I feel all those things about you?"

He stared back at her with nothing else to add for the moment since all of the cards had been laid on the table and the details of the nightmare were shared. It helped, some, to hear her clear away a couple of concerns, but the fact remained that there was still a list of them that remained. "All I know for sure is what you have actually brought up before. You do feel those things, and if you're worried about them, then they do matter to you. I don't want being with me to be a sacrifice Reva. I'm worried that you do feel this way about me." Admitting with a nod.

"That's not what I meant. It's not a sacrifice being with you. I'd have to make them and want to make them." In her mind there was a distinct difference between her statements though she'd struggle to explain it any clearer, especially at that point in time. "I'm scared of some things. I will grow old, I'll die... I may want children. Those are simple facts for most people." Who had a pulse! It hurt to hear him say the last words and it was visible the way her body winced in reaction. "I have my worries, my doubts, my fears. But I also know that I love you more than anyone or anything on this earth. We've been through so much and that means something--everything to me."

He did at least take her explanation, or struggle to make one, that he had misunderstood it somewhat and it was hardly the harsh thoughts he had originally believed it to be. "I know you will. I guess, I just....I don't understand why it'll be a problem if I don't. You'll just....eventually be called a cougar." Trying to make a joke, probably at the wrong time. "And.....I want children too." Whispered faintly before he used his free arm to wrap around her and pull her in a little closer for somewhat of a hug while his head tipped down to hers, "For lack of better words, I feel the same way. I don't know what I would be now if it wasn't for you."

A very faint chuckle sounded on an exhaled sigh when he mentioned the word cougar. Her hand came up in a lackluster swat to his chest before it slid down his coat and slipped around his waist, drawing herself closer in a returned embrace. "Maybe I'm afraid that you'll stop loving me when I don't look like this anymore and am covered in wrinkles, housecoats, and have dentures." Granted that was going to be quite some time from then! His admission about children took her by surprise and her eyes lifted to study his face. "You already have Robert, and now Rebecca." True, she left out how much he had missed in knowing his family but the reason was obvious. Quiet for a moment, she tilted her face closer to his and brushed a kiss to his cheek. "I'm sorry if I doubted us."

"Reva, you could be toothless, blind as a bat with one hair on your head and gravity taking a hold of everything and sending it far past your knees --but you'll still be my best friend. The attraction will only be different then, but not any less than it is now." At the mention of Robert and Rebecca, he nodded. "I know, and I know that I have the twins too, but.... I never got to hold Robert, and I can't do it now." The image was a little amusing. Even if Rebecca was put in place of Robert, they were both too old! "But with the twins....its not the same. I realized first with them that I missed out on something, and then when I found out about Robert..... If it never happens, I know I'm not without, but I don't think that stops me from being willing." Granted, he still had no idea how it would work for him to actually produce a child. He tipped his head to return the kiss on her own cheek. "I'm sorry too."

Both arms wrapped around him, bringing them into an even closer hug as she repeatedly dotted kisses onto his cheek and jaw. It kept her from showing the full range of shock that he caused by admitted something she never expected to ever hear. Stepping back, she released one arm from his shoulder and kept the other stationed at his side. Though she quickly rid her mind of several mental images (mostly toothless ones and those dealing with gravity), she stayed focused on the original topic: the dream. "Maybe what happened last night was nothing more than all your fears colliding at once." She was hardly an expert so her tone was less than confident. "Maybe you had a chance to experience something else instead of the past... not so much the future because I'd never do any of that ... but what you feared to be the future."

He wrapped his other arm around her and squeezed lightly as she pulled him into a closer hug, but released her when she stepped back. "Well, maybe, but....I've never heard of something coming to get....my kind. I didn't realize that I was afraid of anything like that." The first part of the dream, he'd easily admit to being fearful of.

"Of course it'd be frightening. Perhaps the second part was just a regular nightmare, a boogeyman type of thing?" Indeed, that was her ever erratic optimism showing again. She wasn't sure at this point which one scared her more, and it wasn't even her dream! "Have you asked someone about it? Edward, maybe? Or someone else from work? What about someone from around here?" Her hand made an absent gesture to the park but it had more range than that. "And maybe not wait so long until the next time you sleep." She had to get that one in.

There was a touch of amusement, his shoulders shook a little and there was a sharp exhale. "I think I'm a little old be to having nightmares about the boogeyman. I asked Edward if he knew anything about it and he said that he'd look into it. But...who around here am I going to trust enough to ask a question like that? That would have knowledge of things like that? I haven't seen Cooper in a while..." And that seemed to be the only one he thought of questioning. At her last little jab there, he eyed her before he nodded in the direction they would be headed to start walking again. "Stay home and out of trouble and maybe I'll try to do that." An attempt to tease, but point out why he waited.

"I haven't seen him either," now that he mentioned it. But then again, she hadn't seen many people in a while. "I can see what I can dig up," which was usually how she ended up in trouble and keeping him from sleeping but she offered nonetheless. "I'll try," she made no promises for the last tease, though her tone and expression were sincere. Continuing the walk, she took hold of his free hand and twined their fingers together in a loose grasp. Long after they left the park and started down the narrow road that led to the Victorian, she glanced his way and broke a moment of silence. "By the way, I'd say yes." Last time she said something along those lines she had a bullet in her shoulder and fought for every breath.

He knew that Cooper often went into seclusion, and with it being rather cold, fully expected the bear of a man to be in hibernation at the moment. However, he couldn't say for sure that the man hadn't been around since Jake himself had not ventured to the tavern except on knowing that Reva was going to be there. --Well, and for Cooper's birthday. As they continued on their way to hom in a bit of silence, which for once in the day was much more comfortable and lacked tension than any earlier moments, he gently squeezed her hand wrapped in his. And once more when she broke the silence and spoke up, glancing over from the corner of his eyes. He almost admitting to knowing since Eden had told him, but instead of spilling that he knew the secret --and somehow he had still held onto a fear of her saying no, he nodded. "Knowing that makes it much easier to ask."

"Just don't ask me the same way you did in your dream. Color me superstitious." She sidestepped closer to him, bumping their arms together in a good-natured nudge and looked ahead to the pink house they called home. Light from the living room shone bright and the smaller one on the porch was a welcomed sight to behold. Just as they reached the stairs, she had trouble looking to a specific spot off to the side, close to a potted plant --likely the very place where a certain box was dropped. Rather than force bad memories from mind, she looked his way and smiled. "... and have a big-honkin' diamond."

"No? I can't? Man. It was a pretty good set up. Better than any idea I had thought up before I think." He could have been joking, but he would easily promise to not ask in the same way --likely he wouldn't have enjoyed a moment of deja vu for it. "But you already have one that honks." Reminding her, he checked to see that she'd get a hold of her keys quicker than he could, since his hands were occupied with the shopping bag in one and her hand in his other.

"Well keep thinking," she was thoroughly convinced that idea was jinxed. Releasing his hand, she used both to open her purse and found the set of keys to unlock the front door. Just as it opened, and the keys knocked against the wood, two young ducks were pacing in the hall and quacking their hellos to the homeowners. Poor Spawn! "Ah yes, my Easter ring. I love it dearly. I was, after all, the first piece of jewelry you ever bought me." Sentimental and humorous value was priceless. "Hi, kids!" She dropped the purse on the table in the foyer and bent at her knees to offer her hand for the two ducklings to brush against.

"Yes ma'am." Promising as he followed Reva inside, shut the door and locked it behind him. "See, I knew you loved it." Not that he'd ever heard her deny it. Jake quacked back at the two ducks a moment, but carefully moved around them while raising the bag a bit.

After the ducks received a proper greeting, she stood again and tugged the raincoat off and hung it in a closet by the front door and kicked off her boots one at a time. "I never denied loving it, I only kept my feelings for you secret for a hundred years." Her teasing grin lingered, and she glanced up the flight of stairs for a second. "Guess it's time for me to get some sleep. Been a long day." Week, month.

"You say that I'm the one that moves too slow." Teasing back, but he nodded after her look up the stairs. "Sweet dreams dear, get some rest." He leaned over and left a kiss on her temple then. At least Reva was hardly ever restless with so much activity going on. Was this a good thing?




(( More play from Reva & Jake, 2008 ))

PRESENT DAY, July 2013



Entertainment Daily: We are delighted to have with us on Skye, Reva Dirmen, a star from stage and screen! While the interview is in progress, both myself and Reva will be answering questions being posted on Twitter and our message board. So tell us, Reva, is it true you got your big break while on the stage?

Reva: Yes, I worked for a company that operated in the Pemberley Theatre. The first performance to really get my any attention was my work in Our Town. That was followed by Les Miserables.

ED: You played Eponine for that, right?

Reva: Yes, it was a poignant role, something I wanted to do for some time. After that, I landed a role on a soap opera and then several movies. But the stage always has my heart.

ED: Among your various theater and film career, is it true you also started an acting school for inner city children?

Reva: Yes, though it's more of a creative arts workshop. There's writing, set design, costume design, and acting.

ED: We're already getting questions for you, Reva. Are you ready to answer some personal ones?

Reva: Oh, wonderful. Sure, let's have it.

ED: All right, first up is Karen on Twitter. Her question is, who was your favorite leading man?

Reva: Hmmm.. well... is that who I liked to watch or acted opposite? If it's watched, then Cary Grant all the way. As for my acting partners, I've loved them all. Each one has taught me how to be a better actor.

ED: Hope that helps, Karen! Onto the next one. This is also from Twitter... Dave wants to know if you're single. Weeeeell?

Reva: Somehow I knew that question would come up.

ED: It always does!

Reva: Yes, it does.

ED: Maybe you should, you know, try to answer it!

Reva: I do like my privacy, you know.

ED: All right, Reva. We won't press... much. My spies tell me you've had three serious relationships. Am I hot, cold, lukewarm?

Reva: You're hot.

ED: And you were engaged to one of them?

Reva: Briefly.

ED: It's like pulling teeth with you!

Reva: You think I'm going to make this easy on you? Ha!

ED: All right, if you could describe your perfect man, what would he be?

Reva: I once made a list, you know. My perfect man would be tall, look great in a suit, have dark hair, make me laugh, be romantic, be clean shaven, have exquisite taste, love to be around me, and ask me on dates.

ED: That's quite an ... interesting list.

Reva: It is. But that's where it stands.

ED: Has anyone ever fit all those criteria.

Reva: One.

ED: The one who got away?

Reva: The one I foolishly let go.

ED: Well, we're certainly getting more out of you than usual!

Reva: That's all I'm admitting!

Present Day, August 21


"So... fill me in. How's work been treating you?" Jordan asked as she slumped down on the black leather couch, opposite to where Reva perched herself on the arm of a sleek cushioned chair. "It's been forever since we last talked. And I mean really talked, so don't you dare say 'oh, the same as usual.' I don't even remember what your usual is, so spill it."

Reva glanced to the dark-haired pixie-faced woman she'd known from the Pemberely Theatre some seven years earlier. Jordan's face still had an impish quality to it, with a splatter of freckles that never seemed to darken or fade no matter what season, and an uplifted nose that must have just begged for it to be tweaked when she was a child. Black hair was cut short at the nape and longer lengths brushed to the side; the dark color enhanced the green of her eyes which, more often than not, seemed to shimmer with gold flecks. "Work," Reva sighed. "Work has been relentless at times. And, no fair, you knew about Greece, I sent you postcards," an accusing point made Jordan laugh. "With that one wrapped up, it's back to reviewing scripts, managing appearances, and hoping my face doesn't end up splashed all over the tabloids."

"You only make a splash when you fall into Italian fountains," Jordan quipped.

Reva groaned and covered her face, and unsuccessfully hid a chuckled laugh. "You will never let me forget that, will you?"

"God, no. I never laughed so much in my life seeing a soaked to the bone Reva Dirmen climbing out of a marble fountain."

"That was not my fault, I was distracted. Anyway, how's Anthony doing?" Reva slid into the welcoming seat of the chair, leaving one leg to dangle off the bright cushioned arm. She had no qualms in changing the subject since the get together was designed to catch up with one another, something they hadn't done since Reva moved out of Rhydin.

"He's doing good, of course. Our two year anniversary was last month. Right now... let's see. Directing the next play the company will be doing -- and, yes, he heard you're in town." Vivid green eyes stared at Reva expectantly.

"No... no, no. I'm not here to work, Jordan!" Both of Reva's hands shot up. "I'm here to visit friends," motioning to her friend as proof of those words. "And relax a while."

"All right, all right, you know I had to at least try. He is my husband, after all, and..." Jordan inched up along the couch. "The soon-to-be father of my child."

"Wh-- what?" Reva almost fell off the chair as she attempted to right her position. Legs and arms frantic to gain balance and stability while maintaining some small amount of dignity. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?" Up and off the seat, she curled around the glass coffee table and wrapped her friend into a tight embrace. The palm of her hand settled on Jordan's stomach, not yet able to feel any subtle curve of a baby bump. "When are you due?"

"February 3." Jordan practically beamed with excitement. "I'll try to hold out for ten days so you both can celebrate birthdays but... not sure if it's in my hands."

The date was like an electric current of emotion into her heart, quickening the beat of her pulse in a split-second. "No... I'll keep my fingers crossed for the 3rd. It's a good day."