Before I am Famous

Hello all. Seaspring Briar is a prime example of a story that was thought of because of a name. And guess what it was the house’s name that came to me first and the rest fell into place. I drew a lot of the stories from the things that I watched on tv about haunted houses and one part even came from a nightmare I had when I was younger. Final word count 13,000.

I know it is a big one. I really don’t know what I am going to do with it. I am not sure of a magazine that publishes a story of a length so I could always go the e-book route as well. I still haven’t completed the Mickayla story for submission. I have until February of 08 to submit so I have got at least a couple of months. I think that story is solid and I am sure with a lot of effort Seaspring Briar can be solid as well.

Well have a nice night everyone!

*Please note the following is graphic and may be frightening to some. If this type of thing does not interest you please move forward and do come back again*

The morning of July 4th steamed with activity. The caterers set up the tables and bar. Smells of roasted apples, squash, onions, and baked beans in maple syrup filled the air. A clambake was started outside. Barbeque pits were loaded with giant turkeys.

By 6 pm, Phil and briar went to change. She chose a red, sequined gown of Anastasia’s. Briar swept her up with ringlets framing her face. She considered the matching gloves but decided against it. Close to seven, heavenly food embraced her nostrils as she descended the stairs.

Phil, wearing a handsome gray suit, waited for her at the bottom. He took the velvet rope down and held her hand like a gentleman.

“Briar, you are so beautiful tonight. The best looking girl here,” he said.

“You look very handsome as well.”

They shared a sweet kiss. She knew she was overdressed as the fundraiser was only one step below black tie event. Briar didn’t care because she wanted emulate Anastasia.

Darcy greeted them, “my goodness Briar you look like a Polish princess.”
“Thanks,” Briar said.

As guests arrived, Phil introduced her to many of the people. Some said that their parents or grandparents used to come to parties at Seaspring when Lincoln and Anastasia lived.

The sun splashed into the ocean spreading orange wings into the horizon. The string quartet started to play in the main living room. It was magical. Her and Phil walked hand in hand.

Suddenly Darcy ran up to Briar and said,, “Sylvia Spencer didn’t come.”

“I’m sorry Darcy. I’m sure I’ll meet her some other time,” Briar said.

“No, Briar, 2 men came instead. Her great-nephew or something like that. I think his name was Brian. They asked about you.”

Briar lost her smile. This can’t be! How could this be? thought Briar. Phil followed her as she looked for them. She found in the room with portraits.

Their backs were turned but recognized Gabe anywhere. He was tall with olive skin and ebony hair and he wore Armani as he always did. Brian was shorter with medium length sandy brown hair.

“Why are you here?” Briar asked the men instead of the hello-how-are-you approach.

“Briar! I was wondering when we’d the see the lady of the house,” Gabe said as he approached and hugged her tight, “god, it’s so different with out you.”

“Well, Briar sweetheart,” Brian interjected, “my great aunt Sylvia is in the hospital and we went in her place. This house is magnificent, Briar.”

She was angry simply because she could never get Gabe to vacation on the Maine coastline but if Brian wanted to and the is just peachy.

“I thought you would’ve called, Briar,” Gabe said.

“I’ve been busy,” she said pulling Phil closer, “Phil this is Gabriel DiStephanous and Brian Spencer. This is my boyfriend, Philip Skolash.” She had no idea why she said “boyfriend” but she liked the way it sounded, anyhow. The men shook hands.

“Well Briar, I’ve got the best seat in the house for the fireworks,” Phil said.

“Lead the way.”

He took her to upstairs to the master suite. She was surprised she felt nothing when he opened the door. For the first time she took notice of the oppressive beauty of the room. There was maple paneling and a huge maple four poster bed in the center of the room.

Phil opened the door to the veranda, where he set up a blanket and a bottle of champagne in ice.

“It’s lovely,” Briar told him.

“So that was Gabe?” Phil asked.

“Yeah, I had no idea your Sylvia Spencer and Brian Spencer are related. I hope for their sake they leave before everyone else.”

He kissed her, “how about we talk about nothing bad right now. We can talk about us or the fireworks. We’re going to have a mini-break from everything.”

She snuggled close to him as the first rockets went off. The show ended close to an hour later. Briar and Phil dressed. He escorted her downstairs.

Between 10 and 11, many people started to leave. There was a lot of hand shaking and good wishes but Briar did not see Gabe and Brian leave. She hoped they became bored and took off early. The caterers left close to 11 and promised to be back the following day to retrieve their things.

Briar and Phil thought they were alone until they heard laughing from somewhere downstairs. They went from room to room until they found them in the living room with the sun . Gabe and Brian sat on the sofa, drinks in hand. The men looked at her.

“This is an extraordinary sculpture,” Brian said of the sun.

“What are you guys still doing here?” she asked.

“We’re spending the night, Briar patch. You said we’re welcome to stay with you anytime,” Gabe said.

Briar and Phil exchanged uneasy looks, “Okay. I know I said that but not tonight,” Briar urged, “please you have to go.”

“I thought we were friends, Briar. What’s going on?”

The probably wouldn’t believe her for they were also too level-headed to believe in the supernatural but she knew she had to tell them. “Guys, you are in anger. This house is haunted and a medium said you 2 were in danger.”

The men, save for Phil, laughed at the notion.

“It’s true, you should leave,” Phil interrupted.

Just then the double doors leading to the foyer slammed shut. Gabe and Brian stopped laughing and stared pie eyed at the Briar. Her heart thudded. She ran to Phil. Phil tried the door, he couldn’t open it. Gabe and Brian tried with Phil but it just wouldn’t budge.

They heard something rattle. They turned to see the bronze sun shake. Briar looked at Gabe and his vein in his necked pulsed and his eyes oozing fear. An unnatural power filled the room and the sun came off the wall; laid on it’s side like a Frisbee with razors.

Phil grabbed Briar and shoved her to the floor. Brian and Gabe stood as if their legs were weighted with a supernatural force. The bronze sun came at them spinning. Briar shrieked. She tried to say something but nothing understandable came forth. The sun saw decapitated her ex-husband and his husband. Rose red blood rained in the room.

With their heads rolling, the men fell to the floor. The bronze sun with red-tipped rays lodged itself in the wall. Phil picked her up. He tried the door and it opened easily. Briar shook tremendously.

“Do it no,” she whispered.

He nodded. He lit a candle in the living room with the portraits. She grabbed he diary and slipped it in her purse. Phil helped her to the kitchen. She watched as pulled the gas stove out and broke the gas line. They left through the sun room.

He set her in the BMW and drove just a bit down the driveway. He parked the car. They got out and waited.

Like a roman candle, the house exploded. Phil protected her falling glass and debris. The orange and blue flames squelched the beam from the lighthouse. They watched as a white light fled from the blazing pearl of a mansion. Ghostly shrieks and screams super seceded the angry ocean. Phil pulled Briar close. For some unknown reason, she couldn’t weep though she wanted to.

Briar knew there would be questions and she didn’t have the answers . There was so much explaining and planning but those thoughts were distant from her mind. Phil opened the door of the car and helped her in. He got in the driver side and drove down the cliff. Briar watched the flames until the trees became too thick. Phil said nothing but heard her utter goodbye as they turned off her driveway onto the main road.

“How?”

“I don’t know. I was hoping you’d come up with something,” Briar said.

“I will.”

“Phil, I still want to do July 4th.”

“Okay your call,” he said distractedly.

“Do you want to go ahead with it?” she asked.

“Yeah I do, if everything is going to be okay.”

“You’ve never had a problem before. Anyway they loved parties, Anastasia said so in her diary.”

He cleared his throat.

“Phil, what’s wrong? What are you thinking?” Briar asked.

“I’m thinking about your safety. Maybe you could stay with me,” Phil said.

“why don’t you stay with me, you know before Seaspring Briar no longer exists. You shouldn’t be scared Anastasia will keep you safe as she can.”
He squeezed her hand, “I don’t want you alone at the house. I’ll be with you.”

“Okay, Phil.” she said and kissed him.

He brought her back up to Seaspring. Briar was safe and comfortable with him.

“Hey guys,” Christine said, “we’ll be leaving tomorrow morning. We’re going to try to get a little more data. But let me tell you, I hit the jackpot with this house.”

The house was quiet for the most part, the extra sensitive equipment picked up some minor disturbances. By noon the following day, they were gone. She went with Phil to the historical society to work on the exhibit of Anastasia’s paintings.

When they got into the office, Lyanne was waiting.“Hi Lyanne, what are you doing here?” Briar asked.

“I was hoping to talk with you again,” she replied.

The walked to the park and sat in the late June sun.

“What’s up, Lyanne?”

“Remember what I said about the walls have ears? Did you say anything about anyone that did you wrong or hurt you?”

“Well yeah. I told Phil about Gabe.”

“Who’s Gabe?”

“My ex-husband. Where’s this going, Lyanne?” Briar asked.

“I got a weird notion while I was there that something bad was going to happen. Not you but could affect you. Is Gabe coming to the fundraiser on the 4th?”

“Lord no. It’s not his thing. It would be more Brian’s thing, he loved Maine. Brian would really have to convince him to come. Plus they live in Vermont, too far to drive,” Briar said.

“Make sure. Please Briar. Because if he is even or even Brian. They are in danger,” Lyanne pleaded.

“Okay, I’ll make sure.”

The ladies parted and Briar went back into the historical society.
“Hey Darcy, do you have a guest list for the July 4th fundraiser?”

“Yeah, right here. Why?”

“Can you see if there is a Gabriel DiStephanous as a guest?” Briar asked.
Darcy scanned the list, “no.”

“What about a Brian Spencer?”

“There’s a Spencer. Sylvia Spencer plus one. She’s been coming forever. She lives in Portsmouth but loves the Maine coast. Has a summer home in Ogunquit. Gosh, she’s gotta be like 80 now. I think you’ll like her, Briar.”

Spencer was a common name. She was pretty sure that Gabriel and Brian would not be at Seaspring Briar. She was relieved and became more excited about the festivities.

Three days before the 4th, the house was abuzz with activity. Darcy and other members of the historical society were up to the house cleaning. Phil went to town to tie up loose ends with the fundraiser. The ghostly guests were quiet and the sun shined. They were probably looking forward to the party thought Briar.

That night, Briar and Phil slept peacefully in her room. There were no footsteps or broken glass. Briar dreamt of living at Seaspring Briar for the rest of her life.

Two days before the fundraiser, the historical society donned the home with 1930’s era patriotic decorations. They hung 2 large 1930’s American flags between the columns on both sides of the front door. The caterers came by and dropped off dishware and buffet tables plus other equipment they would need. Phil said the party would start at 7 pm, the fireworks were to be 9pm, and food and drinks all night long. He said the party should end around 11.

The day before the party, Phil took her back on the boat.

“So Briar, do you want to still destroy the house?” he asked as they drifted by Seaspring.

She fought with herself on this. When she thought about it outside the house, she wanted to go ahead with it. Inside, she could not bear to let it go.

“Phil, I ‘m going to tell you, if I were to change my mind. It’s not me, take me outside and ask. So to answer your question, yes I do want to destroy the house,” Briar answered.

“I’ve thought of a way, that won’t get you arrested for arson. It would labeled as an accidental fire,” Phil said.

“Okay, so what is it?”

“Well you blow the main fuse and the power goes out. So you light candles. Before you the power goes out you turn on the stove on low and forget to turn it off. You leave the house to come to mine and forget to blow the candles out. When finally the gas filled the room. Boom.”

“Sounds like it would work.”

“When we come back to the house it should be in flames. You have to be willing to lose your clothes and stuff to make it look realistic.”

“I like the plan,” Briar said, “it’s really good.”

They ate fresh lobster at Seaspring that night. The house remained quiet as if the spirits of Lincoln and Anastasia never roamed through time.

“It’s no wonder there’s a war in this house with you looking so much like her,“ Lyanne told Briar.

“Lyanne, this is Briar Rowen she’s the descendant of Lincoln and Anastasia Rowen,” Christine said.

“Pleasure is all mine,” Briar said.

Everyone enjoyed the pizza in the dining room. All of a sudden, Lyanne rose to her feet. Christine followed suit.

“It’s show time, guys,” Christine said.

All Briar wanted to do was paint and she had to do it now. While Christine’s team monitored the machines, Phil, Lyanne, and Christine walked through the house. Briar escaped notice and slipped into the sunroom.

Slipping into another world, Briar began her work. She heard footsteps, some of them running. Briar could not tell what was going on. She heard screaming but Briar painted. She heard muffled voices. Briar felt cold and mechanically built a fire even though she did not remember doing so. The lights went out but Briar had to keep painting. She could not stop. It was the same feeling she had the night she drew with charcoal.

The sound of breaking glass filled her ears then someone, maybe Phil, said, “where’s Briar?” Someone else said, “I don’t know.” Briar heard them but in a dream like fashion. Another scream, a shriek more like but not from a regular woman resounded in the house. The sunroom became even colder, the paint started to harden. Phil came in the room and saw Briar standing there.

“Briar,” he said. She painted. “She’s in here,” Phil yelled out in the hallway.

Lyanne and Christine rushed in.

“Anastasia’s in here with Briar,” Lyanne whispered.

Phil turned Briar to face him and her eyes were black and vacant.

“She’s okay, Phil. Let her finish,” Lyanne told him.

The three of them watched. Briar finished and sat on the sofa, exhausted. On the easel was a an oil painting of a murder, Lincoln’s murder. The image was so vivid it was like a photograph. Briar looked at Phil and at the painting.

“I did that?” she asked above a whisper.

Lyanne spoke first, “can you and I talk alone outside.” Briar nodded and they went to the veranda.

“Okay Briar, I wanted to tell you a bout what happened in there,” Lyanne started, “if you had suspicions that your great grandparents’ live yet, you are right. You are safe at times in the house because Anastasia protects you. She adores you because you are like her but because you are like her, Lincoln wants to harm you and make you pay for what she did to him.”

Briar sat on the iron bench, the only light was from the far off lighthouse and diminutive buoys. Neither could see each other. Lyanne sat next to her.

“What are you telling me, Lyanne,” Briar asked in a shaky voice.

“They are both incredibly angry. Lincoln is a stronger spirit because he died a violent death and that’s why he can do more to you or anyone else. But I think Anastasia could really harm someone if she wanted.”

The women heard another crash. Briar stood but Lyanne held her, “don’t go. They’ll be okay. Anastasia and Lincoln are looking to scare not kill. They are trapped in the house. Briar, for them to be a rest the house must be destroyed.”

“Oh Lyanne, there’s got to be another way. I love Seaspring Briar,” Briar whimpered.

“You could leave like your family did and never return and life will go on for you,” Lyanne offered.

“Is Phil safe?”

“I was wondering when you’d ask. As long as you and he never argue in the Anastasia will try her best to keep him well. Lincoln knows who his grandfather is and Phil may not be safe at times. Don’t leave Phil by himself.

“He spent the night here before,” Briar said.

“Well, I’m sure he wasn’t alone because otherwise he would be dead.”

They said nothing. Finally, the lights returned and Briar noticed Lyanne was pale and frightened. Lyanne noticed the same on Briar.

“Briar, be careful what you say in the house because the walls have ears.”
Briar nodded, “thanks for helping, Lyanne.”

“I’m leaving. To be honest with you I stand to be here much longer. This house is more than I can handle,” she said.

Briar walked her to the car and Lyanne said, “ good luck Briar. Please consider what I told. You can set them free.”

Briar came inside, Christine approached her, “did Lyanne leave?”

“Yeah.”

Phil rushed to her, “I’m glad your okay. I was scared something happened to you when the lights went out,” Phil told Briar.

“If you don’t mind, Briar, we’re going to stay another day. The data we collected is astounding,” Christine reported.

“Fine.”

Phil put his arm around Briar and led her to the sunroom.

“What happened, Phil?”

“Just your friendly great-grandparents making themselves known. All Lyanne did was go into their bedroom and start talking about the murder. That’s when everything started happening. No one was hurt. I think Lyanne was terrified but didn’t talk to us,” Phil said, “What did she tell you?”

“Let’s go boating tomorrow and I’ll tell you all about it,” Briar replied.
He was confused but agreed. The house fell into an uneasy silence except for the crackling fire, a beep from a machine, and the secretive ocean. Briar snuggled closer to Phil and slept as he held her.

The following day, while the crew slept and Christine analyzed the data, briar told her they would be back later. Christine waved them on. The couple stopped at the historical society for awhile then he took her on the boat. On the boat, she told him everything Lyanne said.

“What do you want to do Briar?” he asked.

“Destroy it. I’ve thought about it because when I have children, they’ll inherit the house. And I know the house will call to them. Who knows what could happen? What do you think, Phil?”

“Although, I love Seaspring Briar it’s ultimately for the best. When?”

“I want to stay awhile longer, I was thinking August,” she replied.

Briar sat on the sofa and thought of Gabe, tears came to her eyes. Phil noticed eh salty droplets fall.

“Briar, what is it?”

“I don’t know. Reading Anastasia’s love story made me thing of Gabe. You don’t know how much I loved him. What do you when the person you are married to tells you he is gay but loves you but not in the right way?”

“I don’t know,” Phil mumbled.

“And it was a guy named Brian. You change one letter you have Briar. Brian is a lot like me, too. I was so heartbroken and I just got numb. Gabriel is the only man I loved and ever been with before you. We met freshman year at NYU. We were together since I was 18. That’s 12 years and 6 years married. Then he tells me he’s gay. And Brian. We’ve known Brian since we moved to Vermont. He was Gabe’s best friend. They are both lawyers. Then one day, I came home and found them together. That night he told me everything and asked for a divorce. I was so numb like Anastasia was. It felt like the end of my world,” Briar sobbed .

Phil pulled her closer, “it’s okay , Briar. Tell me.”

“I don’t know. It was so hard to stand as his best lady, as he told everyone, and watch him marry someone else. I was glad that I was leaving for Maine. I had to get away from him. It feels like life mirrors Anastasia’s. Will I have the same fate; die lonely in this old house?”

“Don’t say that Briar. Anastasia and Lincoln’s love was reciprocated to a degree. You’re ex husband was wanted to be with someone else. Lincoln remained with Anastasia even though he had mistresses. You’ve got a whole world ahead of you,” then he quieted,” plus you’ve got me. I know we don’t know each other well but I’d like the opportunity to know you better.”

He continued his diatribe, “look I know divorce is hard. I recently divorced, my ex wife met another man that she loved. It broke my heart when she left. It’s been 4 years but the pain started to go away year after year. And Briar, it will for you to.” Phil wrapped his arms tighter around her as lightening struck the power out.

Briar awoke to breaking glass. Phil also woke. He was breathing heavy and sweating.

“Briar, you okay?” he asked.

“Yeah, you?”

“I had a dream. I was being chased. A man screamed at me. He chased me in here. Then the glass broke.”

Daybreak illuminated the sun room where pane was shattered,“I had a dream too,” Briar said, “but it was a happy one. I was at a wedding. I thought it was Anastasia and Lincoln’s but it was Anastasia and someone else.”

“Well I can have someone fix this for you,” Phil said.

She nodded.

That afternoon, he took her to the open sea. The air was warm as they hugged the coastline.

“Briar, look up.” Phil told her.

And in all her mystical glory, Seaspring Briar was like a natural pearl. The windows were like eyes gazing down on the gray Atlantic.

“Phil, it look so beautiful.,” she remarked, “it’s hard to believe that such a wonderful house keeps so many terrible secrets.”

She enjoyed Phil and the company they kept together. After spilling her heart to him, she was relieved and closer to Phil. Of course, they shared some frightening times as well.

They spent the night together at Seaspring Briar. Feeling brazen, she convinced Phil to strip naked and she painted him. It was quiet in the house and both slept, a deep sleep, in each other’s arms.

Sunday was also quiet; no dreams, no footsteps, no breaking glass. Phil took her boating again. Tomorrow the ghost chasers were coming and she hoped her housemates would act up. Briar just knew it was Anastasia and Lincoln creeping around. Before now, she was too level-headed to believe in such notions but now it was different. Briar had no doubt there was life after death.

About 8 am on Monday, the door bell rang. Briar opened the door. A woman slightly older than she with long blonde hair and thin like a model stood in front of her.

“Hi, Briar Rowen, I am Christine Warbanks from UNH,” they shook hands, “The rest of the team is coming. Lyanne will be here tonight. Now, don’t worry we won’t put nay equipment that damage the house.”

“Okay,” Briar said although that was the least of her worries. “Come in.”
She led her to greeting room where the portraits were.
Christine continued, “I’ve got some papers for you to sign. Liability. You’re not liable if any of our equipment gets broken and we are not liable if there’s damage to your things,” she handed her the papers. Phil walked in.

“Thanks for calling, Phil. It’s good that you let me come here,” Christine said to Phil.

“Good seeing you again, Christine.”

“Perhaps, you should change the name of your historical society to the Haunted House Association of Eastern Maine.”

“Ha ha,” he said.

Briar looked up.

Christine talked to her,” I’ve done many investigations in houses and properties the historical society has control over. Sometimes they are bona fide spooks in the walls and other times they are not. I’ve also investigated the Oceanic in Portsmouth. Now, that’s a place where the ghosties checked in and never checked out. Do you have any that’s a place where the ghosties checked in and never checked out. Do you have any questions, Briar?”

“No not right now.”

The doorbell rang again. Phil answered and a group of 3 men entered carrying bulky equipment. Christine introduced everyone.

“Okay Briar, Phil if you could give me a tour or something so we know where exactly to place the testing equipment. Set-up will take all day, that’s why Lyanne is coming later. Especially show me rooms where you felt something weird or something happened.”

They set the equipment in the master suite, Briar’s bedroom, the attic, and the entire main floor. Base was in the living room with the bronze sun. Phil ran into town to get pizza for everyone.

“Miss Warbanks?” Briar asked

“Call me Christine, what is it?”

“What if they are at their best behavior tonight and nothing happens?”

“Don’t worry, if this house is haunted and I think there’s something here from the preliminary checks of the equipment. Lyanne will stir them up.”
Phil came back with pizza and fiery red head following.

“Lyanne, you made it,” Christine said.

“Lucky I was in town when she asked for directions,” Phil said.

Lyanne Suelle stood about 6 feet tall and she was slender and elegant like Christine. Her blazing hair sat perched on top of her head. Lyanne and Christine exchanged greeting. Lyanne spied the portraits, her eyes darted to Briar.

“She doesn’t write again until she gave birth to my grandfather in Seaspring. It was the second most happiest day in her life after marrying Lincoln. Life for Anastasia is everything she dreamed of. A wealthy adoring husband, living in the United States, a precious son, and time to paint all day and everyday.”

Briar continued,” years go by and next entry is dated July of 1939. Anastasia found out Lincoln had an affair with a woman in town. She was furious and heartbroken and vowed to get even. So she had an affair with Michael Belvedere, one of Lincoln’s friends. But unfortunately for her, he found them together in their bed and beat Anastasia that night. She wrote that this was the first time she was struck by him. He best her so badly that she couldn’t get out of bed because she was it was too painful. And that’s all I know so far.”

“Wow. It seemed like the fairy tale turned into a nightmare,” Phil remarked.

“Oh I know. You should read the diary, Phil. She seemed very poetic even during something so horrific,” Briar said.

He sat beside her and moved a curly lock out of her face. She smiled shyly. Then he kissed her. And there was no way she was going to end it.
Briar felt something change in herself since her stay at Seaspring Briar.

She was more daring and adventurous and more honest with her feelings. For the most part, Briar led a sheltered, carefree life. Event though she lived in New York City, she kept her puritanical beliefs.
The only man she was ever with was Gabe. And when he told her that he was gay, she had no idea how to process that information. She stood witness at his wedding and was numb.

But now she was different and it came through her new art. Her professors said her work was technically superb but it lacked gusto, or edge, or just something. She drew last night and it was a very dark drawing. And this night, she was in the arms of Phil, a man she really did not know well. Yet, he was exactly what she needed. As was Seaspring briar. Both Phil and Seaspring awakened her.

Suddenly, briar wanted to go home. She needed to be there. She scribbled Phil a quick note and went back to Seaspring briar.
The house was quiet. She ran to the sunroom, turning on every light on the way. She had to paint and she did.

The sun rose, kissing the cliff, as briar finished her last stroke. Then from sheer exhaustion, she collapsed on the sofa.

Something roused her from her sleep. It was knocking. She figured it was one of the house guests and tried to doze off again. But then someone knocked from the back veranda. It was Phil. Briar opened the door.

“hi,” she said.

“Afternoon. I’ve got a truck.”

“Come in.”

He noticed her painting. There was many symbols and the colors were dark but bright at the same time. It had a very dream like quality about it.

“This is great, Briar. I can see why you rushed home. Everything okay?”

“Yeah all quiet.”

He did not want to look at her, she broke the ice, “Thanks for last night, Phil. Thanks for everything.”

“Well your welcome.”

They moved the trunks into the truck. And then he drove her to the bank where she put the jewelry in several safety deposit boxes. They took the clothes to the historical society. Darcy winked at her as they moved the stuff into an empty room.

“I really appreciate this, Briar. It will go in our museum. I’ll take you there when I’ve got the display finished.”

“Okay. What time do you want me to come by tomorrow?” asked briar.
“Anytime really,”

She stared at him, “do you love Seaspring briar?” she asked out of the blue.

“Yes. As much as a person can love a house. It always drew me to it. Did you know Michael Belvedere was my grandfather? So I guess our families have been intertwined before.”

“I suppose it’s maybe you love it so?”

“I didn’t know about their affair, Briar. I’ve only been running the historical society for ten years. The previous president, Sean McDonough, got the house under contract. Sean had connections with your family. I guess in a town like this everyone’s connected. When I started here, before I was promoted my job was Seaspring Briar. You know cleaning it, doing the tours whatever it needed,” Phil told her.

“It called to me in my dreams. I knew about it because it was in father’s will. I couldn’t shake the dreams. I found a picture of it on the internet. I knew I had to come. I fell in love with the house. And when I am not terrified, I feel at peace,” she explained, “I just wish I knew what was going on.”

He hugged her slightly, “I know Briar. Soon.”

They worked out the new contract and finalized plans for July 4th celebration which was only a little more than a week away. Phil told her the they could hang Anastasia’s paintings in an empty house they controlled in Bar Harbor. Briar agreed to help out.

Their eyes met from time to time and Briar was so drawn to him like she was drawn to Seaspring Briar. Could it be she was the descendant of Anastasia and he was the descendant of Michael Belvedere, her lover. Was there something more than a quick revenge fling that Briar has not discovered in Anastasia’s dairy? Why did Anastasia choose Michael instead of any other person? Briar had to know. She wanted to go home.

“Phil, do you want to come to the house tonight?” she asked him.

“Yeah okay.”

He drove them in his car. The house was dark when they reached the top.
“Are you scared?” Briar asked.

“No. Not really.”

She made the dinner as he started the diary where briar left off.

“Okay, Phil, I’m dying to know what happened,” Briar said.

“Well after the first beating, Lincoln went away to Kittery for business and Michael came by often. It seemed like the beating drove Anastasia and Michael together. She wrote that she deeply loved Lincoln but Michael inched his way in. They were two peas in a pod. She began to fall in love. So nothing for a year then in 1940 she writes again saying her and Lincoln went to Michael’s wedding. Although she held Lincoln’s hand and wore his ring, she desperately anted to be Michael’s bride. That was the last she saw him. The beatings never stopped almost every night he’d beat her. One time she tried to fight back but he burnt her arm in the fire. She never fought again.”

He continued,” well its April 1942 when she wrote again. Lincoln II was away at school since he was 11 years of age he went to Philips-Exeter Academy. The house staff was given the weekend off. That’s all I got Briar. But I think that something happened. Lincoln disappeared in April of 1942. They found his car on April 18, 1942. Since he never turned up, they thought he wondered off the cliff and was presumed dead.”

“I have to know what happens, Phil. Keep reading.”

He read some and said, “you’ve got to hear her words,” then he began :
“I promised myself I would never allow him to harm me again, to go back on his word. Early this morning, the sky was alit with jagged cuts. He came home inebriated. He hurt me and forced himself on me. When he passed out from the scotch, I knew it was time to free him from the demons that held him.”

“I killed him with an ivory handled, freshly sharpened knife. I stabbed him through the heart. After I was sure that he was dead, I axed him so I could dispose of earthly remains. By daybreak, it was done. And all ready, I missed him terribly and mourned for him.”

“I killed him so he would go to a better place. I did it because I loved him and he loved me.”

Phil gulped some iced tea and continued, “Of course, I loved Michael. Because Michael was a reflection of everything good about Lincoln. Before Lincoln began his deluge into dark waters. But when Michael found his love, I wept because we could no longer be together but at least I had my dearest Lincoln. Now I have no one.”

“As of now my heart aches for Lincoln so. I am not sure how long I can live with out my Lincoln. But I must because my son is not yet a man he’ll need his mother.”

“Oh lord, I know you’ll forgive me but Lincoln please, my love, forgive me. I know when you realize what you have done to me and why I did what I did , you’ll be there at the gates of Heaven arms extended. Because I forgive for everything, my Lincoln. I love you so.”

Phil finished the page, “wow I can’t believe she killed him. I guess the rumors were true.” He handed her the diary.

They retired to the sunroom where he lit a fire. Clouds rolled in smothering the moon. The Atlantic beat the cliff and wind growled, rattling the windows.

“The next entry is dated July, 1948,” Briar said and continued reading, “ It’s been so long since I have written, but it seems impossible to leave my bed. I feel Lincoln in the house. Sometimes her terrorizes me and others I feel a gentle touch like a cool summer breeze and I know for sure it’s the Lincoln I love deeply.”

“Lincoln graduated Philips-Exeter with high marks. He’s off to Harvard now. I am so very proud of him as I am sure his father is. I am very lonely with out Lincoln. I do not paint anymore. I have no fire inside of me because I snuffed it 6 years ago. I regret killing him. I am only writing today because today is Lincoln’s, my true love’s, birthday. I have no one to share my story with or ease my depression.”

“Only a little longer when my son is ready to be a man. I will join my loving Lincoln. I think that will be very soon. Do you see the words I wrote Lincoln, I will be joining you very soon. Because eternity we will spend together in this house.”

Phil put his arm around Briar, “she died in April 1953,” he told her.

“successful and now iWell this is her last entry dated April 16, 1953,” Briar drank some more tea and finished the last entry, “Tonight is the night when I rejoin Lincoln as his queen. My son brought home a beautiful woman named Eleanor. They are married and she is to have a baby. My son is happy.”

“I’ve had my servant pack everything except for this little book and when I die she will put it with the rest of my things in the attic. I have lived, if you want to call it that, the past 11 years with out him. My son is a man and no longer needs his momma.”

“After Lincoln died, I seen a gypsy. I asked for redemption and she gave me Belladonna. She said I would know what to do with it. So here I am tonight. It is storming out as it was when Lincoln perished this very day years ago. My son and his lovely wife are asleep on the other side of the house. I have dressed myself in my wedding dress and I am ready to join my husband.”
“That’s it, she killed herself,” Briar finished.

“Wow,” Phil said awestruck.

Briar smiled as she went to the full length mirror in her bedroom and gazed at herself. “Wow,” she said aloud. She came back into the other room and as ked Phil to unzip her. She gathered her clothes and changed back. He broke the lock on the trunk and both felt giddy as they opened the lid like they were opening a treasure chest.

Inside there was boxes; boxes of diamonds and pearls and other gem stones. There was necklaces, chokers, rings, and earrings in gold and silver. There was a small box towards the bottom, Briar opened it and inside was a necklace. It had a silver chain with a teardrop diamond. The diamond must have been maybe 2 carats. She was entranced by it and immediately put in on. The charm came right above her chest.

Phil found a leather bound book, it was very small like a personal Bible would be but very thick. “Briar look at this.”

She held it and flipped through the pages. The handwriting was small and neat, “its her diary. Now we’ll know what happened. I’ll read it later.”
They looked through everything until the contents of the trunks were strewn across the room. They found a few wedding pictures in a another leather bound book.

“They look so happy and so in love,” remarked Briar, “I wander what happened?”

Phil handed her the diary, “now we will know.”

By the time they finished the sun started to set.

“I don’t want to leave the paintings here. Phil, can you keep them?” Briar asked.

“We can take them to my house. I promise they’ll be safe.”

They spent the next hour cleaning up and loading her car with the paintings. The sun finally sunk beneath the waves and a feeling of dread swept over Briar.

“Well I should get you back,” she said. He nodded and they drove down the cliff.

Phil lived on the moors. His little, yellow cottage sat plainly with a small boat docked.

“I’ll have to take you out sometime. Been boating lately?” Phil said.

“Oh not since my father died and Gabe hates anything to do with the outdoors.”

“Saturday then?”

“Yeah okay.”

They started to unload the paintings, “Oh Briar, there’s something I need to discuss with you.”

“What’s that?”

“Well we have a really big fundraiser on July 4th. They shoot fireworks over the ocean. Well the tickets have already been sold and uh…”

“You can still have it. I don’t have a problem with that.”

“You don’t have to worry we rope off the stairs. You can come for free since its your house or you can be my date,” he said.

“Well it’s over a week away but I’ll be there for sure,” Briar replied, “do you need me to dive you to get your car?”

“No, I’ll walk tomorrow. Briar,” he said as he pulled out a business card.

“Yeah.”

He scribbled his number on the back, “you get scared or whatever call me. It doesn’t matter time of the day.” And then he kissed her on the cheek.

She smiled in return,” Thanks Phil, we’ll work out a new contract. I’ll be down soon.” he nodded.

It was black as she drove back up the cliff. She missed the turn off several times but finally pulled in. briar and Phil turned on all the lights before they left and Seaspring Briar looked like a shimmery pearl in the partial moonlight. She walked to the edge of the cliff where the sound of a thousand galloping horses filled the air. Tonight, for the first time she noticed a lighthouse, well at least a somewhat faint light north of Seaspring. Briar felt oddly comforted by the shaft of light.

Once she came inside, she quickly ran upstairs and got the diary. She was determined not to sleep tonight but instead sleep in the early morning because she felt safe in the day.

Briar made coffee and a sandwich and sat in the sunroom. Twirling Anastasia’s necklace, she thought of Phil. She really started to like him. In the ways that count he was much like Gabe; very kind and passionate about his work but Phil was a man who loved the ocean and the simple things in life; the very same things Briar liked. Phil was exactly what she needed a manly man.

She started daydreaming when all of a sudden she heard footsteps on the upper floor. Not the gentle footsteps of happy little forest critters but the footsteps of people and it sounded like two different people. She pulled the blanket off the sofa and wrapped it around her. Then shut and locked the sunroom door. She was afraid. Her heart thudded hard against her rib cage. Briar saw the lighthouse and felt safe within the room. Because of that light, Briar just knew Anastasia painted here and always felt safe here.

After a few minutes the footsteps stopped and the house fell silent. She wished Phil was there. Suddenly, she got up and grabbed a charcoal pencil and drew.

Typically, charcoal was not her medium. Her medium was mostly oils, watercolors, and latex paint. But tonight instead, she needed to draw. It felt as though someone controlled her hand as she drew. Briar had no idea what the picture would be. And hour or so later it was complete.
It was the veranda off the sunroom and two people stood there; holding hands. The figures looked over the ocean. The picture showed the lighthouse light and jagged bolts of lightening. Briar laid the drawing on the table and felt satisfied.

She fell asleep on the sofa. She woke to the sun beating down on her. Briar went to her and changed clothes and then checked Anastasia’s things. Everything was okay. She spent the morning sorting through the stuff. In one pile she kept all the gowns she liked, the jewelry and other personal effects and the other pile was for the historical society. She was positive Phil knew what to do the stuff. A part of her wanted to keep everything at the house; yet, there was a voice in her head that told her to purge.

Having the clothes she was donating only gave her another reason to see Phil. I wonder if Phil was I hoping I ‘d stop in thought Briar. She put on a little make-up and fixed her hair. As she walked to the stairs, the temperature was sub-zero then firm hands pushed her back.

She lunged forward seeing the marble steps before her. She knew she would not live. But something caught her, slowing her fall to a mere plop on the steps. Afterwards, cold winds rushed around Briar. Decorative urns and sculptures crashed to the floor. A door opened and then slammed shut from the left side of the stairs. She grabbed the diary and left. Even though she was in a hurry, she made sure the door was locked tight.

The BMW stretched it legs as she careened down the cliff. Briar drove straight to the historical society. She prayed Phil was there. She rushed through the door. Phil’s door was open. He saw her and stood. Briar slammed his office door shut.

She ran to him and fell into his arms, “Please tell me I’m not crazy. Please tell me, Phil, everything is okay,” she sobbed into his shoulder.
He said nothing but only embraced her and gently patted her hair. He convinced her to come back with to his house. They drove in silence. He could see she quivered. He reached over and squeezed her hand.
Phil made her coffee spiked with whiskey.

“Thanks so much. I needed that,” Briar told him.

“What happened Briar?”

She began her new story of terror. Afterwards, he got up and rummaged through his chaotic desk.

“I thought I had her number, still.” He handed Briar a ripped sheet of paper, “that is the number of the head of Parapsychology Studies at UNH. A few years ago she contacted me about Seaspring Briar. I told her she wasn’t allowed to come. She has a team and equipment and she knows a medium as well. She’s very thorough. I’ve had her to come to other houses that the society controls,” Phil explained.

“Do you think I should?” Briar asked.

“I don’t know. That’s up to you. We may get some definite answers. Maybe with that medium we’ll know who’s doing what,” Phil replied.

“I want to do it.”

Phil phoned Christine Warbanks and she jumped at the chance to come and investigate Seaspring Briar. Christine said she would get Lyanne Suelle , the medium to come as well. The ghost hunters were coming Monday. Briar felt partly relieved that someone might give her answers. She told Phil that she needed help moving the trunks out of the house. Briar also mentioned that she was donating a few of Anastasia’s trunks. He was pleased.

“Briar if you don’t want to go home tonight, you can stay here. You can have the bed and I’ll take the couch,” Phil offered.

“I think that is a good idea.”

“And tomorrow we’ll get the stuff out. Darcy’s mom works at the bank so we can get you set with safety deposit boxes for the jewelry.”

Briar embraced Phil. They said but only smiled at one another. While Phil made dinner, she began reading the diary. Phil called for her to eat but she was too engrossed in Anastasia’s life.

“Hey Briar, good reading?”

“Phil, its amazing,” she answered.

“Tell me,” he pleaded.

So in between mouthfuls of salad and clams she began, “Okay so the diary starts in November of 1930 right after she and Lincoln came to Seaspring Briar. Apparently that huge sun in the living room that hangs over the fireplace was a wedding gift from Lincoln that he bought in Greece while they were on their honeymoon. Anastasia wrote that she never met a man like Lincoln and they were soul mates. She loved him wholeheartedly.”

“Thanks so much, Phil, for showing me around and telling me about this place,” Briar said.

“I’ve lived in Bar Harbor all my life and I always loved this house. Please come down when you can, if you’re serious about working out something.”

They shook hands; liking the feel of his hands beneath hers. It was a manly hand; dry and slightly rough not like Gabe’s soft and delicate. She waved as he drove out view, then unpacked her car. She put her canvas, and paints in the back room. Briar chose a room on the right side of the staircase that had an ocean view.

After she was through moving in, Briar made the trek into town to pick up some provisions. When she arrived back at the house a thick night fell on top of the cliff. The moon was full but it still seemed too dark. Briar entered her home and it was too silent.

She was alone for the very first time in her life. There was no one there. She began to miss Gabe and even Brian and her mother. She had an urge to call someone but there was no cell service. Discovering there was phone a kitchen with a dial tone, she tried her mother but it was long distance and could not complete the call. She thought of calling Darcy but she hardly knew her. Briar replaced the phone and went to the bedroom.

Earlier, she selected a book from the study. She tired focusing on the words but her mind drifted. Then fear and paranoia overtook her and she had to check every window and door including the master suite. Everything was locked up tight. She tried painting but the feeling was not there. Briar decided to look over the contract. She turned no light off as she retreated to her room. The contract was tedious and boring and soon she was asleep.

Briar ran through the mansion. Someone was chasing her. It was a man. She did not know who it was. He screamed her name and called her stupid shore. It was too dark, she tumbled down the stairs. The man yelled from atop the stairs,” Get out! No stupid whore woman will live here!”

Briar crashed to the floor from her bed. She was sweaty and gasped for air. Her watch stopped. She checked her phone it was only 3 am. She was terrified. Never did she have a nightmare such as that. Briar climbed back in bed and pulled the covers over her head and cried.

The following morning, Briar was amazed she slept after that horrible dream. Slipping on her clothes, she went downstairs to make coffee. For some unknown reason she looked in the sun room. Her paints were squeezed out, her canvas was torn, and the paintbrushes were broken.

“What the hell?” she gasped.

She nixed the idea of coffee and drove into Bar Harbor. Phil was parked in front of the historical society. She opened the door.

“Are you okay Briar? You look like you’ve seen a ghost?” Darcy asked.

“Is he busy?” Briar asked shortly.

“Go ahead.”

Briar forcefully opened the door and slammed it shut.

“Briar, you’ve got the contract done already?” he asked; surprised to see her so soon.

“You have a key don’t you?” she yelled at him. “You come in last night and messed with my stuff in the sunroom. Making me think the place was haunted, so I’d run away and you can take control back!”

“Briar, calm down. There is only one key and you have it.”

“Yeah sure. Well explain the paint. I am sure you know how to get in with out a key.”

Phil moved beside her, “please calm down. Let’s go talk but not here the walls of ears.”

She agreed. What was he going to tell her? Briar wondered. They walked to the diner and he chose a booth in the corner away from people. Each ordered coffee.

“Briar, please tell me what happened last night?” Phil asked.

She began her story from the moment her opened the door to the master suite. She left nothing out.

He did not say she was crazy or absurd but instead he said, “I broke the rules once, but only once. It stated in the contract that no one was allowed to spend the night. I did thought. It was several years ago. I had a nightmare as well but it was a woman. She chased me with a knife. I never saw her face. When I woke up I was scratched like a rabid cat was loose in the bedroom. I slept in their bed, Briar, in the master suite. There was another clause in the contract that under no circumstance was there to be any paranormal experts or physics. To be allowed in. I didn’t believe in ghosts that’s why I stayed the night. But I do now.”

Briar look at him wide-eyed, “Phil, I want to stay there but last night was horrifying.”

“I don’t know what to tell you,” he gazed at her and she retuned it.

“Do you want to come to the house and see the sunroom?” she asked suddenly.

“Okay.”

She told him that she would drive and bring him back later. They spoke nothing of Seaspring Briar but chatted about each other. When they arrived, Phil followed her inside. But here was something new in the sunroom. Yes, the paint was still everywhere and the brushes broken but on the easel sat a fresh painting.

A painting of Briar or Anastasia, Briar could not tell. The nude woman was on a horse looking over the cliff and the house was painted small on the far left side of the painting.

“Did you paint this, Briar?” Phil asked fixated on the painting.

“No. I swear it wasn’t here when I left,” Briar replied.

“I believe you. I really do.”

She pulled out the ring of keys, “I figured what all these keys are for but this one. Do you know what it unlocks?” pointing to an iron, ornate key.

“Probably the attic. We were never allowed up in the attic, I am pretty sure I know where it is. Do you want me to show you?”

“Yeah.”

He led her up the stairs and went to the right of the staircase. Then he opened the bedroom door next to hers and opened the closet. And another door which he opened to a set rickety steps. Briar handed him the key and stayed close behind and smelt his cologne. He inserted the key and opened the door.

The room was covered in cobwebs and dust. Faint sunlight barely pushed through the boarded up attic window.

“We need some light. I keep flashlights in the kitchen. We’ll go together,” Phil told her.

Moments later beams of light filled the room. She had no idea what she was looking for but went to a trunk and popped the lid . Inside where dresses from the 20’s and 30’s maybe even 40’s. Some were frayed others looked as new as the day Anastasia bought them. Phil stayed by the door. Briar went through trunk after trunk and discovered more dresses, shoes and hats. The last trunk was locked and she could not get it open. She decided to take all the trunks downstairs even the locked one, Phil happily helped since he was anxious to see the treasures. He started down with the last trunk when a beam of light hit something in the corner which caught Briar’s attention.

“Phil, come here. Look its her paintings,” Briar said with a smile.

More than 50 paintings sat protected underneath a sheet. She only noticed because a large seascape that was not covered completely. They carried them downstairs as well.

“That’s where they were,” Phil said, “we thought she burnt them or your family had them. These are incredible.”

“Oh I know. It was a shame they were locked away for so long,” Briar commented, “maybe I should set up a showing in town. These are too good not to share.”

“That’s a good idea, I can help you. I have a lot of connections in town.”
She smiled at him sweetly, “Thanks Phil. I am sorry about earlier. I just thought, well, you didn’t want me here.”

“It’s okay.”

While he went looking for something to break the lock on the last trunk, Briar looked at the dresses. They might fit me she thought. She picked a black sleeveless number and tried it on. It fit like second skin. Phil came back into the room and she whirled around. His mouth fell open.

“Can you pull the zipper up?” she asked and he did.

“Wow, Briar. I feel like I am looking at Anastasia. You look beautiful,” then he paused, “uh not that you didn’t before.”

“Send in her in Darcy. And dammit get me some coffee.”

Darcy nodded and Briar opened the door. On the other side was a particularly handsome man. He had a tan face bathed in ocean air and sea salt, with short brown hair surrounding it and Atlantic gray eyes. He wore polo shirt that accentuated his golden arms and pair of shorts that showed his golden features as well.

“Mr. Skolash, I’m,” Briar began.

He stared at her like Darcy did, “ Briar DiStephanous,” he finished.

“Rowen. I’m going back to my maiden name.”

“Please shut the door and sit.”

Briar obliged.

“Why all of a sudden are you coming around to come live in that house? We’ve controlled that house for 30 years now. You come along and usurp everything away,” he said as he slammed his hands on mounds of paper.

“It’s my house Mr. Skolash. I want to live there.”

“We need that house, Ms. Rowen. You don’t understand it keeps our society strong and it brings the most money,” Philip explained.

“Please call me Briar. I am sure we can work something out. I don’t want to take the house away from you. I don’t know but there’s got to be something.”

He sat back in his chair, “okay I will draw up some kind of contract with you instead of your parents.” He called for Darcy to look for the original contract. Moments later she appeared with it,” here Briar look over it and come up with something of your own. Then we’ll compromise,” Philip said.

“Okay, well Mr. Skolash,” she started.

“Phil, please.”

“Will you take me there. I’ve never been to the house.” Briar asked.

“Okay. Where’s your car?”

“By the park, in front of the post office.”

He asked her to wait in the foyer while he got the keys.

“He’s harmless you know,” Darcy said, “He’s passionate about preservation.” She scribbled her number on a post it, “you need anything, Briar at anytime give me a call. Try the home phone first if not my cell’s on there.”

“You ready?” Phil asked Briar.

He actually opened the door for her and drove her to the post office to pick her car up. She noticed that he noticed her shiny black BMW.

The drive was pleasant as they drove though Bar Harbor. The high sun illuminated the moors where the lobstermen docked their boats. The air was salty and the smell of chum filled her nostrils. The began the ascent up the cliff. The evergreens were thick and shaded the windy road. Then Phil turned onto a little path where the rocky was steeper and snakelike.

After about 15 minutes she saw it. Seaspring Briar loomed ahead of her. The white mansion looked like it should have been on a southern plantation. The ionic columns glistened in the sun. Huge windows looked down at her. He parked his car in a little alcove by some evergreens. She parked beside him. Still staring up at the huge mansion, she followed Phil to the double oak doors.

He unlocked the doors and led her inside. The enormity of the house overwhelmed her. A giant staircase was directly ahead of her; it rose up to the second floor branching into 2 different directions. And above the fireplace she found the portraits. She could not pull her eyes away from the image of her great-grandmother, Anastasia.

Briar though she was looking into a mirror. Each had raven hair and porcelain skin; delicate and sharp features in the face and the eyes like the blue on a brilliant sunny day.

Beside her portrait was Lincoln Adam Rowen, he great- grandfather. Bother her father and grandfather shared his name and resembled him a great deal. Since Briar was a girl and a boy as her father hoped there was only one name that suited her, Briar; after the house. He told her that many years ago before he died.

“A strong likeness between you and her, “Philip commented.

“I just can’t believe it,” Briar replied.

He handed her a big set of keys. Their hands touched. “Here you are, Briar. I’ll see you soon.”

“Wait, Phil,” she said.

“Yes?”

“Well maybe you can show me around like I was on a tour,” she suggested.

“Okay, if that’s what you want.”

“I really do.”

He started his tour, “welcome to Seaspring Briar. This house was built in 1925 by Lincoln Rowen. A man who built his fortune by bootlegging during prohibition. After prohibition ended, he invested his money and became a savvy business man owning several properties and business through out Maine.

“He met his wife, Anastasia in France. There isn’t much about her. What we know is that she’s a descendant of Polish royalty but her parents moved to London when young. She was studying painting in Paris when she met Lincoln. It was love at first site. They married in Paris and in 1930 he brought his princess to the states. The paintings here are painted by her,” he finished this part f the story.

Phil showed her room in the rear of the house first. A wall of windows faced the ocean. The were French doors that opened to a veranda and then to the cliff. Immediately, Briar fell in love with this room. It was so full of light. She knew she would spend her time painting here. She wondered if Anastasia painted in this room as well.

“Your parents updated the house but we put in newer appliances. We cook here when we throw parties. We never show this part of the house,” Phil told her. Briar nodded and followed him through each room. There was a huge dining room with a big long table in the center that could sit 16 people. The study had a Persian rug in the center. The bookcases were made of cherry and they were adorned with books and treasures from all over the world. There was a few chairs and huge writing desk in front of the window.

Next to the study was another living room. This room also had a Persian rug. There was a couple couches that were red and velvet. Above the huge walk in fireplace was a huge bronze sun. It had to been at least 5 feet across. The sun had no face but seemed like an angry piece of art with the rays bent in a saw like fashion.

Every room her showed her, she loved. They walked up the marble staircase. To the left was the master suite and couple of guest rooms.
“Phil what happened to them?” Briar inquired.

“Well this is an interesting part of the story,” he opened the doors to the master suite, “here’s where they slept. Now this part is a lot of rumor passed down from the locals. Here is where he beat her. He had mistresses and he beat them as well. House workers, who worked here when they lived, said they used to hear someone wail over the ocean some nights. Then the next morning she was all beat up.”

Briar walked inside and felt uncomfortable in the room. An icy chill raced down her spine. She hated this room even though it looked over the Atlantic and had a beautiful veranda over the cliff. She wanted out. So Briar walked back into the hallway. Phil noticed her uneasiness and exited as well and shut the doors behind him.

“It is rumored that one night while their son was away at school and the house staff was away, Lincoln came home drunk. Probably beat her. She must have had enough because it is told she killed him and then tossed him in the ocean. The authorities found his car smashed into a tree at the bottom of the driveway but he was never found. Anastasia started acting weird. She began scrubbing the bed incessantly. She never let the maids touch it. He health declined and then she was bedridden. Before she died, she told the her nurse that she did it. And that was it. No one ever knew for sure what she did but suspected she killed him.”

He showed her the other wing of the house. The sun disappeared behind the clouds and seemed very oppressive inside. She walked Phil outside when he was done with the tour.

“You’ll get used to it being cloudy. I was surprised to see it sunny when we drove up,” Phil said.

Briar drove through the night to Kittery, Maine. Her mother was expecting her. Briar just watched her ex-husband marry his partner in Vermont. Her and her ex- husband were still close but Briar needed to get away and smell the ocean again. Not only that she needed someone to be there for her.

Briar pulled into the driveway to the cozy little colonial she grew up in. Her mother’s prized gardens were in full bloom, she smelt the freshness and aliveness of it all. Red roses climbed the lattice next to the house. Her mother came out. Her gray hair hung around her shoulders, making her look older than she really was. She waved from the porch. Briar parked her black BMW then hugged her mother hard.

“Oh Briar, I’m so glad you’re here,” her mother said.

“Me too, Mom, me too.”

“Come in. The coffee’s on and I made your favorite, blueberry muffins.”

Briar never had a bad thing to say about her mother. She was a real mother and always took care of Briar and knew how to make her feel better at least for that moment anyway.

She followed her mom into the sunlit kitchen where the smell of fresh baked muffins and good strong coffee welcomed her home.

“So you went to the wedding?” Emma, her mother asked.

“Yes. Gabe and I are still friends. He’s very happy with Brian,” she replied.

“Well I always knew there was something funny between you two. Married for six years and no children.”

“Mom,” Briar disapprovingly said.

“Okay, okay I won’t say anymore. You can stay as long as you want to sweetheart.”

“Thanks Mom, but eventually I want to go on my own. I lived with you and dad then I went to college and then married Gabe.”

“You were on your own at NYU, honey. You need time to heal. Work on your painting,” Emma told her.

But Briar had other plans yet she was going to wait a day or so before she told her mother. Though she really loved being home with warm muffins, Briar dreamed of a house, Seaspring Briar. A house, that was willed to her after her father’s death. A house she’s only seen a picture of and never lived in.

All she knew about the house was her great grandfather built with the fortune he made from bootlegging. Her grandparents lived in the house but only for a short time until her father was born. Her own parents lived in the house but moved to Kittery before she was born. And not a single person ever talked about the house or their time in it. Yet, for some reason night after night she dreamt of the mansion. As if it called to her. Briar waited two days to tell her mother.

She ran out and bought Emma a couple bleeding hearts. Emma seemed pleased with the new plants however she knew something was up.

“Mom, can we talk?” Briar asked.

“Sure sweetheart, what is it?”

“Inside mother.”

She was surprised at her tone of voice but shuffled into the mud room. Briar followed behind her.

“Briar, what do you need to talk about?” Emma asked with concern in her voice.

“Seaspring Briar,” Briar said calmly.

Her mother’s expression changed from worry to slight anger. She turned away from her daughter, “what of it?”

“Well remember I told you I want to go on my own?”

“Yes,” she answered.

“Well I need a place to live. Seaspring is my house. Dad left it to only to me. I want to live there,” Briar explained.

Emma grabbed Briar’s arms, “please, please Briar I beg you don’t go there. I’ll do anything for you to stay. I’ll move and you can live here. Please Briar. Don’t go to Seaspring Briar.”

Briar could not understand why her mother pleaded her to stay. It must be serious, if mother was willing to give up her home. But Seaspring called her. Briar needed to go there. “Why Mom? It’s just a house. And it’s my house.”

“Because it is a cursed place. Why do you think you never lived there? It changes people. Briar. Please, Briar don’t go there for me,” Emma said.
Briar pushed out of her embrace, “Mom, I have made my decision. I want the keys.”

Emma knew she lost the battle, “Briar, dear, I don’t have them. The Eastern Maine Historical Society has them. They take care of the house in trade for them to give tours and throw fundraisers there. I will call Philip and tell him you are coming fro the keys,” her mother never looked at her as she went inside and picked up the phone.

It wasn’t until supper when Emma finally spoke to her, “I called Philip, he’s expecting you sometime this week. When are you leaving?”

“Tomorrow, mom.”

She stood up and tossed a business card in front of her, “The man you want to see is Philip Skolash. You can find him at the historical society office in Bar Harbor. Find your own way,” she said then left the room.
Briar seen the pain in her mother’s eyes. Yet, Briar could not see what the big deal was. Seaspring Briar was only a house, she never understood why what upset her mother so.

Briar awoke early and got ready to go. The sun was still young , she spied her mother in the gazebo. Briar thought about saying good bye but changed her mind. She got in her car and drove north.

She drove around Bar Harbor looking for the historical society. She stopped for directions several times but no one knew anything. Briar gave up driving and sat in a little park. A woman, slightly older, with gray streaks in her brown hair with a gravitationally challenged body sat beside her, eating a bagel. Briar thought to ask her.

“Excuse me, do you know where the Eastern Maine Historical Society. Do you know where it is.?” she asked.

“Why, yes I do. I know it’s hard to find because our sign is so dinky. If you want to wait I will take you there,” she said in her Maine drawl. She then extended her hand, “names Darcy Winthrop, I work there.”

“Lucky, I met you then, I was going to give up,” Briar said.

Darcy intently looked over in shock, maybe it was awe. Whatever it was she did not chew her food but left her mouth agape. Then she spoke, “ oh my great lord, you look like Anastasia Rowen. She lived in Seaspring Briar on the cliff. I’ve been in the house so many times. There are these main portraits in the main living room, that she painted herself. You look like her twin.”

Briar laughed a little, “ I am Briar Rowen. I’m supposed to move into Seaspring Briar.”

“Gosh, I should’ve put two and two together . Ain’t nobody looks for us. I knew you were supposed to be coming. Phil’s been waiting. Guess I should take over there,” Darcy said as she tossed her bagel for the gulls.

It was a short walk through the small park to a little brick house. There was a sign, a little hand painted sign next to the door. No wonder she couldn’t find it. The house was still cool from the morning.
Darcy knocked on a closed door to the right of the front entrance.

“Darcy, I told you to take a break,” a man said gruffly.

“Uh, Phil. She’s here.” Darcy said.

“Fine. Give me five,” he replied.

“He’s a little upset about this whole thing. He loves that house maybe more obsessed with the house. He’s very passionate about the job. He’s the president you know,” Darcy whispered in her ear.