Smoke in Mirrors

but it seemed to him that he could sense its weight.
    “Let me rephrase that question,” he said. “Would you care to attend the reception at Mirror House on Saturday evening?”
    “With you?”
    “Yes, ma’am. With me.”
    “Oh, yes,” she said softly. “Yes, I would like that very much.”
    The window reflected his own happy image staring back at him.
    “Something else,” he said. “Deke told me to tell you that he agrees with you about the importance of thatlibrary. He says the Bethany Walker Endowment will continue to fund the task of getting the collection online and he’d be pleased if you would agree to continue on in the position of librarian until the job is finished.”
    Leonora was quiet for a moment.
    “I’ll think about it,” she said at last. “It would probably take me a few months.”
    “Yeah.” He could do a lot with a few months.
    Leonora said nothing.
    “Of course,” Thomas said, “I could always move to Melba Creek.”
    “Thomas—”
    “I’m pushing this a little too hard, aren’t I?” Thomas said.
    “We both need to go carefully here.”
    “Right. Carefully. Measure twice, cut once. An old bit of tool wisdom.”
    Leonora surprised him with a laugh. “I wasn’t planning on cutting anything.”
    “I can’t tell you how reassuring it is to hear you say that.”
    “While we’re thinking about things, why don’t you come over here for dinner? Bring Wrench.”
    “I’ll do that. And my tools, of course.”
    “Planning to give me another demonstration of your astonishing skill?”
    “Wait’ll you see what I can do with a drill press.”

    Thomas took his time making love to her that night. Probably the craftsman in him, she thought at one point. He was concerned with the smallest details. Who would have guessed that she would be so sensitive right there .
    “Thomas.”
    “Squeeze a little harder.”
    “Thomas.”

    “That’s it. Like that. Getting tighter. I can really feel those little muscles now.”
    “Thomas.”
    “No, you can’t move any other part of your body, remember? Just this one little spot. We’re working with a precision tool here.”
    “Damn you, Thomas.” Frustrated beyond belief, she came up off the bed in a convulsive movement.
    He laughed softly when she came down on top of him.
    A moment later when the fiercely intense climax swept through both of them, he stopped laughing.
    A long time later he pulled her close, tucking her securely against his body.
    She fell asleep, warm and relaxed and feeling safe. Her last waking thought was that she would not have the dream tonight. She had her answers. Meredith could rest in peace.

. . . She was back in the endless hall of mirrors, fleeing the unseen menace. She must not gaze directly into any of the dark looking glasses. It would be fatal to make eye contact with any of the ghosts trapped inside the mirrors. She would be sucked instantly into the world on the other side.
    Her pursuer drew closer. She heard laughter.
    Don’t stop.
    She stopped.
    Don’t turn around.
    She had to turn around. She had to know the face of her pursuer.
    But something went wrong. To her horror she found herself staring straight into a terrifyingly familiar nine-sided convex mirror. The silver monsters carved on the frame writhed, mouths gaping, claws extended.
    Meredith’s distorted face stared out at her from the dark glass.
    “. . . You can’t sleep yet . . .”

    “Leonora. Leonora. ” Thomas’s voice shattered the dream just as surely as if he had picked up a hammer and smashed the silver-framed looking glass.
    She came awake, her heart pounding, her nightgown clinging damply to her body.
    “It’s all right,” Thomas said. He held her tightly pinned against his chest, one hand in her tangled hair. “You’re okay. Just a dream.”
    She gulped air and clung to him, taking comfort from his strength and the heat of his body.
    “That damned dream again,” she whispered after a while. Frustration and a strange anger burned in her. “I thought there wouldn’t be any more. I thought it was over.”
    “Easy, easy. It is over.” He stroked his fingers slowly through her hair. “What’s the dream about?”
    “I’m in a long hall full of dark mirrors. Someone is chasing me. I know I shouldn’t look into any of the mirrors, but I do. I see Meredith’s face looking out at me. She’s telling me that I can’t sleep.”
    “Well, I guess we know where the symbolism for that dream came from, don’t