Chapter 1

1

            Jordan juggled the groceries as she twisted the tarnished doorknob. Once inside, she practically dropped the bags all over the chipped Formica table, nearly tripping over Candles, Bethany’s black cat.

     “Jordan, is that you?” A frail voice crackled from up above.

     “Yeah, Bethany, it’s me. I have your groceries. Let me put them away and then I’ll come up for a visit. Would you like some tea?”

     “No dear. I’m just glad that you’ve come. I have something important to show you, so do hurry."

     Chuckling, Jordan put the groceries away, gave Candles some fresh milk and food, and then pulled out a small cake from the one remaining bag. She removed the plastic covering and pulled out a few candles to place on top of the cake. Pocketing a book of matches, she moved toward the stairs to surprise Bethany. She paused, as she always did, to read the needlepoint poem that Bethany had once crafted long ago when her hands weren’t gnarled and useless. Silently Jordan read the poem:

God grant me the serenity
to accept the things I cannot change;
courage to change the things I can;
and wisdom to know the difference.

--Reinhold Niebuhr

This poem had always meant a lot to Bethany and initially when she could move about the house, Bethany would pause and read the poem aloud. Then sometimes smile, sometimes sigh, but she always read the poem when she passed it. So Jordan, out of habit, did too and then she continued marching up the steps, anxious to surprise Bethany and get a bite of that chocolate cake.

     Today marked the second year that she and Bethany had become friends. She was a volunteer at the local hospital and Bethany was a frequent patient, as her Rheumatoid Arthritis grew worse. Other ailments crept in and soon it was apparent that Bethany would have to go in a nursing home unless she could find a full time caretaker. Tired of volunteering in the hospital, Jordan realized that she could easily visit and take care of simple things for Bethany, while a visiting nurse could care for her other needs.

     It didn’t take long to make arrangements and within weeks, Bethany had a new part time caregiver and Jordan had a new job. While she was paid little to do this, as a junior in high school, it was better than nothing. She lived right down the street, so gas money wasn’t part of the equation and she usually baby-sat a lot, which gave her more than enough to meet her needs.

     Jordan’s mind returned to the present as she took the wooden steps two at a time, balancing the tray in her outstretched hands. Today was a celebration indeed, but only in terms of friendship. Bethany had grown more feeble  and it seemed that she might be in her last days. Wanting to give her hope, Jordan pushed those thoughts from her head as she bumped Bethany’s door open with her hip. She put on her best smile and shouted, “Happy Anniversary!” as she burst through with the lighted chocolate cake and glasses of milk to wash it down.

     “Anniversary?” Bethany croaked. Then realization spread on her face- chased quickly by a smile. Her white, even teeth flashed and her eyes crinkled as she began to chortle with laughter. “How many years has it been, dear?”

     “Two,” Jordan answered as she began to cut the cake, offering a thin slice to Bethany who struggled to sit upright upon her rumpled bed.

     Once situated the two enjoyed their cake and general chit chat before they both lulled into silence. It wasn’t uncomfortable as some silences go. They had grown accustomed to one another and silence was respected. Finally, Bethany cleared her throat and directed her thoughts toward Jordan.

     “Jordan, do you trust me? You do know I am in my right mind, right?”

     Laughing, Jordan nodded her head in agreement. “Sure Bethany, why? What did you do? Flush Candles cat toy down the toilet again?”

     “No, no. I have something that I need to show you, Jordan. Something that is quite different and it could cause a lot of trouble if it fell into the wrong hands.” Bethany’s tone was no-nonsense, and it was obvious that this was a serious matter.

     Frowning now, Jordan stopped sucking on her chocolate encrusted fork and looked into Bethany’s serious steel grey eyes. Her weather beaten face was tanned from years of living and her long grey hair was piled into a bun on top of her head, wisps of gray floating around her face. She was a heavy woman, and mostly bedridden except for her obstinate trips to the bathroom. She refused to use a bedpan, and usually met with minor disaster in a myriad of ways.

     “What’s up, Bethany?” Jordan quizzed, hoping that this wasn’t another death talk full of last will and testaments and final burial instructions.

     “I want you to go to the closet and open that door,” Bethany instructed.

Jordan did as she was told, opening the heavy wooden door to find a tall ornate mirror. The wood itself seemed to be made from curly maple, glossy and rich with curls of dark and light wood. The mirror was polished and clean and it stood its ground. She looked into the mirror and wiped a smudge of chocolate from her freckled face, surveying up close the gold, green and yellow flecks that sometimes seemed to sparkle within her wide, hazel eyes.

     “It’s a mirror, Bethany. What’s up with that?”

     “I want you to have it Jordan. As a gift.”

     “Oh Bethany, I couldn’t. It’s just beautiful, but it’s yours. You should have it out here in your room where you can see it.”

     “No, Jordan. The mirror is not for dressing or for primping. It’s for something far more serious. I wouldn’t dare give it to anyone that might misuse it. I feel that you are the right person to own this mirror; that you will use it for good rather than evil.”

     Totally perplexed now, Jordan closed the closet door and walked back to Bethany’s bedside, wondering if she had her medicine for the day or if she should call a doctor. She saw instead a very determined gaze on Bethany’s deeply lined face, her eyes level and serious.  

     “I’m not sure I understand, Bethany. What do you mean, use the mirror for good?”

     “I have a story to tell you Jordan. It’s a story that extends through generations of owners and ends here with me… and you.”

     Jordan sat down to hear what Bethany had to tell her. She twisted her hair, dread welling up in her heart, as Bethany began a story of vanity, a broken heart and death.