Post by StoryGirl83 on Aug 30, 2008 20:21:40 GMT -5
Chapter Nine – Reflection
Downstairs, Vicki was sitting on the couch, looking at a photo album. She had found it on the bookshelf in the corner of the room. It was almost frightening to look at the familiar faces in it, not the ones that should have been familiar such as Aunt Piper or Aunt Paige, or even Uncle Henry and Uncle Leo. No, it was the eerily familiar pictures of Paige’s twin daughters, Alanna and Janice and the full grown pictures of their younger brother, Henry Jr., Hank as they called him. It was the pictures of Aunt Phoebe with her husband, Coop, and three daughters. People she shouldn’t have known; people she didn’t know. And yet, their faces had haunted her dreams for almost three years since she had come into her powers.
Melinda walked down the stairs, behind her. A stair creaked under Melinda’s none too silent feet.
Vicki looked up at the sound. “How are things up there?”
“Hectic,” Melinda informed her, looking weary. “I was in the way, so I thought I’d come check on you.”
“I’m fine,” Vicki told her, her face worried, “but I’m sure you weren’t really in the way.”
“Maybe not,” Melinda admitted, trying to look brave, “but after what happened the last time I tried to fix things, I thought maybe I should rest. Mom said I could use one of the bedrooms upstairs.”
“It’s not even eight yet,” Vicki told her, glancing at the clock in the wall.
Melinda shrugged. “It’s just been one of those days.”
“Oh no,” Vicki contradicted her. “This tops any of those days.”
Melinda smiled. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” She turned to head back up the stairs. She stopped almost before she took a step and looked back at Vicki. “Aunt Paige is coming soon right?”
Vicki nodded. “That’s right. She’s bringing one of her daughters with her, I think.”
“I’d like to meet her daughter,” Melinda informed her, smiling. “Mind sending her up when they arrive.”
“Sure,” Vicki agreed. She watched as Melinda headed back up the stairs. Once she was out of sight, Vicki looked down at the album in her hands. The picture was of Aunt Paige’s and Uncle Henry’s three children. Her finger touched the picture, almost of its own accord, and rested on the image of Hank. His death had happened when she was only a few months old and no one would talk about it. It was so unfair that here he had lived when in her reality he had died. No one would talk about it, but she had heard enough to figure out that his power had been something the underworld coveted and in taking his power demons had killed him.
Vicki closed the album and stood. She put the album down on the coffee table in front of her before walking over to the stair case and sitting down on the bottom step. She looked around the room silently.
She sat there for several minutes just thinking. She remembered the manor enough to know this was different, brighter like she had told Wyatt, but it was more than that. Given her dad’s official status as dead, it had seemed a good idea to avoid places where he would be recognized, especially San Francisco where the witch hunts were centered, so Vicki hadn’t seen the manor often. Usually Aunt Piper and Aunt Paige had brought their families to Boston.
The doorbell rang and Vicki stood. She walked into the hall and over to the door. In a soft voice she asked, “Who’s there?”