Frank liked the musical sound of her voice. "I'm not sure I know what the hell you're talking about. How does time warp? You're in my house—at least it looks like my house. That hook on the wall is where I have a nail. That table by the tub I don't have, and I sure as hell don't roll my towels or have a stick with a ball on the end to wash my back. Mine's a brush."

"It's called a back-brush."

He sulked for a moment looking at her through the mirror. Because of the way he sat on the edge of the tub, she could tell he was tall and wiry. He wore dirty work pants with suspenders over a plaid shirt, which had the long sleeves rolled up on his forearms.

"Do you have a name? Could it be Frank Davis?"

He crossed his arms over his chest, and his brows drew together. "How'd you know that?"

"It's your house, isn't it? That's how I know."

She studied his appearance. His hair looked brown, and it was cut in a military-style like the sailors and marines still cut theirs. However, it looked like it had grown out a little. The length on top was much longer, and the sides too.

Because it was dim on his side, she couldn't tell what color his eyes were. But she could tell he hadn't shaved that square jaw in a couple of days. She compared his nose to that of the statue Michael Angelo's David. It was thin, straight, and it fit his face. His lips were very kissable. That thought had her admitting how handsome he was. Was he married yet? She wondered.

"Lady, I know we haven't met before, yet you know this is my house. It looks like you're in it too, but it's different. How's that possible?"

"That's not easy to explain to you and have you believe it. You live in a different time than I do. I'm Abby Frasier, and I moved into your house today because I'm renting it from your great-great-grandson, who manages it."

"Good God Almighty! You're damn serious, aren't you? Is that why I can only see you through a mirror?" He shook his head at his own question. It was all nuts, but he could see her, and they were talking.

"Mr. Davis, what year are you living in right now?"

His head jerked up to look at her. "I thought you knew. It's September of 1921." He felt his hand shake. "What year is it for you?"

"September 2021."

He stared at her as if she had two heads. "You're telling me you come from a hundred years in the future, and you're living in my house?" He swallowed hard. "That means I'm dead, and I'm a ghost." He reached down and pinched himself. "I felt that." He banged on the tub, and it rang out. "Hear that? I'm no ghost, Lady."

"My name is Abby, and I'd appreciate it if you would use it instead of calling me lady all the time. How old are you?"

"I was born in the fall of 1895. Why would that be important? You look like you're in your twenties."

"I was born in April of 1995. Did you build this house by yourself?"

"Yes, right after the war."

"You were in the Navy aboard a battleship, Charlie told me."

"What does this have to do with us talking through a mirror?"

She shrugged. "Nothing. History fascinates me."

"History? I haven't been home that long." He shook his head. "I don't think I'm ready to hear what the future holds."

"I don't blame you. The good news is that you won't need to fight in another World War."

He could tell by her cryptic answer that another one would come. "Because I'm talking to you in a mirror, I'd rather not take this conversation any further. This is enough to make us both lunatics. Could we test this mirror theory? You can see me in this one, right?"

"Yes, it's like talking on the phone. I can see you by using the mirrors as well as hear you."

"I have a candlestick phone in the parlor, and I sure as hell can't see anyone with it."

"I didn't see it in there. Anyway, the phones have advanced. I'll explain it another time. How do you want to test this theory when we can clearly see each other?"

"I want to see if it works with another mirror. I tried earlier, but you may have been staying clear of one while you put that robe on. Stay here and continue to look in this mirror while I go to the bedroom."

"Ok, but Frank, you should continue to talk to me. I don't want to lose the connection."

He nodded and began to sing: "Over there, over there, the Yanks are coming, the yanks are coming, the Yanks are coming over there." When he looked into the mirror over his dresser drawers, he saw her standing there with her hands over her lips laughing. He smiled in return. "Can you see me?"

She nodded trying to keep her laughter contained, but then he snarled, and it broke free. "I haven't heard that song since my grandfather sang it. But he had different lyrics."

"Well, we sang it differently. I thought, at first, you were laughing at me, but I'll choose another song next time. Come into the bedroom. I want to see if we maintain a connection. This time you sing."

"How about if I count instead?"

"You afraid to let me hear you?" he asked with a laugh.

She stuck her tongue at him and began singing, "I'm forever blowing bubbles. Pretty bubbles in the air. They fly so high they nearly reach the sky..." When she came into the room, she saw him laughing in each mirror in the room. She had also heard that deep chuckle the entire way in here, which was exactly what she wanted to accomplish.

"Where did you hear that song? It's not that old."

"We keep historical documents, and that includes music, but that's all I know of that particular song." She looked at him in the mirror that had made her feel dizzy. It was once again moving as if it were water.

"Frank, do you have this full-length mirror?"

He tried to look elsewhere, but she was standing in front of him. "If you're talking about an oval mirror that sits on the floor, I have it sitting in the corner. What's it doing?" he asked as he turned to go look at it. "I knew it had waves in it when the old lady sold it to me."

"Yes, but they're moving." She stepped back and sat down on the bed. "I believe it's this mirror that is causing us to see each other through time. Was the woman a witch or something?"

He shrugged. "If someone had asked me that yesterday, I would have laughed. But now I'm not so sure." He continued to stare at her. "Let's test the mirror in the parlor. I could use a drink."

"Frank, there are mirrors all over this house. One in the entryway, two in the parlor, two in the kitchen, and the back bedroom has two. Wait, I have an idea. She opened the drawer to the dressing table and pulled out a hand mirror. However, when she looked, it was only a normal mirror. "This mirror doesn't work the same. I can't see you with it. That probably means that the only ones that work are those that came with the house. You put them up at some point for us to see each other."

"I'm curious as to how the bedroom has changed. From your position to the mirror, it only focuses on you because you're close to it. If you back up, I can see you at a distance like I did when you were in the tub."

"It works that way with a camera too. That shouldn't surprise us. We'll both back up."

He moved back to stand beside the bed. "I can barely see the floor mirror from this angle.

"Where did you put that floor mirror?"

"It's in the corner by the bed. Why?"

"That's where it still is in my time. I can see across the bed, to the chest of drawers, and to the door. If I look at the..."

"Dresser drawer, not chest of drawers," he said grinning.

"I say tomāto, you say tomăto. The point is that I'll see your back if you stand there looking in that mirror, while I look at the floor mirror. But it's this mirror that seems to have waves moving inside of it." She tore her eyes away from the waves and just focused on him. "Can you see this dresser beside the mirror? It has a bench that fits between two drawers, and it has a big round mirror. Have you bought it yet?

"No, I can't not without tilting this mirror at more of an angle. He reached up and tried to point it at that wall. Nope, I don't have that. Go on, what else? The bed looks the same. I built that."

"Yes, Matt said that you built furniture, and this was original for when you lived here. However, it appears the quilts are different. The one I see on your bed has big squares, while this one is a star pattern. See?" She lifted the quilt for him to see it clearly in the mirror. "If none of the furniture was changed, that means the chest of drawers you use is the same one I'm using."

"I wonder why he kept it all."

"You wrote it in your will. I'm not ready to talk about that."

"Alright, I'd rather not either," he frowned knowing he wasn't alive in her time. And because of that, he knew he'd never touch her.