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Millie
Why wasI always the one at her beck and call? I could hear her now: “Millie, you need to come and take over for a day. It’s an emergency. Just one day, okay?”
It’d been three days already! And a week before Christmas! Aggravated didn’t even begin to describe what I was feeling. Lira got to jet off whenever she pleased, leaving me to pick up the pieces of some broken love she left behind and whatever other mess she’d gotten herself into.
“I love my sister!” I shouted aloud—almost as if to remind myself of that fact. No one answered, seeing how I was all alone in my room. Several dresses lay strewn around me. I was supposed to be on vacation, taking my first ski lesson and drinking hot chocolate by the fire, not stuck in an art gallery selling landscape paintings to people who I didn’t care about.
My anxiety was building as the seconds ticked by. I disliked being the center of attention, and having to keep a calm demeanor while trying to sell art set me right on the edge of my sanity.
Trying to forget about my racing heart and sweaty palms, I held up a simple black dress with capped sleeves. This would have to do. Not to mention it was the last clean dress I had. I looked around at the other items on my floor, eyeing a pair of snow pants, some long johns, and a new waterproof jacket I had just bought, all of which were appropriate for skiing or hiking through the snow—but definitely not for selling high-end art!
“Ahhhhhh!” I stuffed the clothes back into the dresser, then slipped on the dress, which matched my black eyes. Tying my black hair in a bun at the nape of my neck, I went to the front closet and found matching black boots and a parka. I was ready. Time to go sell some of Dad’s paintings.
* * *
I stared at the dark art gallery, wondering where Lillian, the curator, was. Christmas lights trimmed every building in town, making it look like a real winter wonderland. Well, except for the art gallery, which was dark inside and out.
Maybe today is my lucky day.
The art gallery could have been plucked from Germany and set here in the States. It stretched the whole block and was one of the few buildings that actually looked like it belonged here alongside the lake.
I had a sudden craving for gingerbread cookies, and my legs were freezing. Lira was going to owe me. She could have at least left me some hosiery, or even better, an internal heating system I could wrap around myself under my dress. That would be the best invention ever. At least my fuzzy snow boots were warm, so I wouldn’t be losing any toes tonight; maybe my nose or thighs, yes, but not my toes.Crap.
The Christmas lights turned on, bathing the street in an artificial, warm, and merry glow. I looked down at my phone and sighed. No message that the gallery was closed today. So be it. In return for tonight, I was taking all of Lira’s days off next month then. She could sell paintings inmystead!
I walked up to the door of the art gallery and tried the handle, hoping it was still locked, but it opened without a sound. Unlike the last few days, the entryway felt eerie in the darkness. Even the silhouette of the Christmas trees I knew were here didn’t give me any comfort. I heard banging coming from Lillian’s office and headed in that direction. The banging came again, and I jumped, my stomach muscles clenching. My breath was starting to come in little bursts, matching the cadence of my wildly pounding heart.There’s no such thing as ghosts. There’s no such thing as ghosts.
Turning the corner, I saw light shining from within Lillian’s office. Fisting my hands, I walked over and knocked on the open door. There was no answer, and on entering, the room was empty. Another bang made me jump, and a nervous spike shot up my back.This is all a prank. Lira knows I dislike ghosts and anything related to them. She set this all up!
I started backing out of the office and reentered the dark hallway, trying my hardest to view everything around me in case someone or something jumped out at me. My vision was starting to blur, and my hands were shaking.Not now, please not now.
“Millie!”
My head snapped up, and I saw a shadowed silhouette coming toward me.
“Oh my goodness, sit down! Please sit down.” Lillian’s voice was soon followed by her familiar form. She scurried around the table and pulled me toward one of the chairs in front of the desk. “I’m going to go get you some water,” she said, squeezing my hand before taking off.
I put my head down between my legs and tried to take some deep breaths, but my head was spinning. At this very moment, I really disliked my sister. One week every three months was supposed to be a week of mandatory rest. Mom and Dad had both set this rule, and they were even bigger workaholics than we were! This was supposed to bemyweek of rest. I needed it.
My hands were so tight I couldn’t unfurl them. Then the fear of having bloody nail marks on my palms while selling Dad’s artwork only made the panic increase.
Cool hands suddenly landed on mine, rubbing my fingers, and I heard singing. “Breathe in through your nose. That’s it; good. Hold for a few seconds. You’re going to be okay. Now, breathe out slowly.”
I was totally not doing what she was saying, but somehow her words were starting to cut through the anxiety attack I was having. When my breaths started matching her commands, I lifted my head and looked at the person who had saved me.
Gray, gentle eyes shined back at me. Straight, white hair cut short to the ears and surrounding a face with taut leather skin made me think of Ah Po, our grandmother. I looked at her hands and saw the veins running through them, giving her life. I used to trace those lines on Ah Po when I had these attacks. She left us a few years ago, but my heart still ached for her. She was the last grandparent we had.
I traced Lillian’s veins with my eyes, focusing hard on them while listening to her song.
“Thank you,” I said when it came to an end.
“You’re very welcome. I’ve been known to have a couple of attacks myself. Here’s some water.”
The water was cooling, and I could feel my faculties starting to come back into place.
Lillian smiled gently. “You want to sit here for a bit? I have to figure out these lights,” she said, standing.
“Yes, I think I’m much better now. I have a thing about ghosts. I thought—”
