Amaranthine (Editing)

Chapter 2 - Just a Dream

Chapter Two: Just a Dream

The drive to my house was nice, we lived on the outskirts of town. Tall trees lined each side of the road only allowing trickles of light to stream through the thick branches. It was definitely a nice drive—calm, quiet—completely opposite from the drive I used to take to get to school in the city.

At the end of a long gravel driveway was my new house—I refused to call it a home because it wasn't, my home was back in Seattle. This was just a house I was staying in until I graduated and went off to College—like mother like daughter I suppose.

When Grandpa was still alive—long before I was born—this used to be the Johnson Family Farm. But it has been ages since this place has seen animals of any kind or any tractors for that matter, unless you count the ancient broken down ones behind the old barn near the edge of our property. The house may be fixed up and refurbished but the barn sure wasn't, that place gave me the heebie jeebies.

I pulled my car up and parked it next to the house, which was your typical, cliché farm house. It was a huge white two story house—three if you count the attic—with blue shutters, a wraparound porch and a bench swing facing the river in the back.

I walked inside and the smell of fresh paint filled the air, mom had people working on the house all summer to fix it up to her standards. Everything was tidy, walls were white and dark hardwood flooring ran through out the entire place.

I took my new necklace from my bag before tossing into the closet; I put on the necklace as I started for the kitchen—stopping to admire my new purchase in the hall mirror—the shiny silver stood out against my lightly tanned skin and the emerald coloured stone gleamed in the light from the over head chandelier. It could have been my imagination but I could have sworn it also made my hazel eyes stand out more, highlighting the green.

I was just taking the spaghetti noodles off the stove when mom walked in the kitchen, "Hey honey, smells great." She smiled then slid beside me and placed a light kiss on the side of my face. Her vanilla perfume lingered as she walked away to hang up her belt.

Looking at mom was like looking into a funky mirror, one that showed me what I would look like twenty four years older and with a short pixie style haircut. She had vibrant hazel coloured eyes, a toned athletic build, but not a boyish kind of toned—thankfully we still had our womanly curves. We were often asked if we were sisters, mom loved it, I pretended to be annoyed but truthfully if I looked half as good as her when I got to her age I'd be one lucky girl.

"I'll be right back, just going to wash up before dinner." Mom said, pushing the swinging door open that separated the kitchen from the hall.

Back in Seattle we never sat down to dinner, she was always working, and I learned to fend for myself early so I didn't have to put up with a nanny. Mom told me that things would be different here.

Just as I finished setting the table and putting the food out the phone rang, I picked it up on the second ring and answered with a polite "Hello".

"Hi, can I please speak to Special Agent Janice Mason?"

"Oh do you mean Sheriff Janice Mason?" Putting big emphasis on the Sheriff part.

"Uh, yes...is she home?"

"May I ask who's calling please?" more sarcasm, I knew who it was—The Bureau.

"Agent Quinton Ross, F.B.I." He stated matter-of-factly, he knew I was playing him.

"Right...one moment."