Then, dinner over, the man went into the living room to relax.
"Are you coming, baby?" he asked her.
"I'll be there soon. I'd like to take a bath first."
He turned, his pale eyes glowing again. "Good idea. Get yourself all nice and soft and relaxed." He winked.
Anne felt heat rising in her cheeks again, and with a quick nod, hurried away.
In the bathroom, she turned the taps on the cast iron tub. It had separate faucets for hot and cold, and she adjusted the water flow as best she could, hoping to get the right combination. Then, as though drawn by a magnet, she walked over to the vanity, a wall mounted piece with a sink in the centre and two rows of drawers running down the side. It was supported above the floor by three thin metal legs. The legs and countertop were yellow to match the walls. The drawer fronts were white. Mounted on the wall above was a large round mirror orbited all the way around with smaller circles of reflective glass.
Anne looked deeply into her eyes. She studied the pupil, the soft hazel iris, gold in the centre with green rimming the outer edge, the two shades blending in between; the expression of warm, caring intent behind it. She realized she and Patricia as one and the same person. The connection was real and distinct. How it could occur, and how on earth she could materialise in a past life or whatever it was? That was beyond Anne's ability to comprehend.
But since she had no idea what had caused this, how to end or extend it, the only choice was to enjoy it. That would be no hardship. In this life, she was happy in a way that modern Anne could scarcely imagine. It was like a dream.
The feel of the hot water as she sank into the tub was perfectly real though. The tension caused by her confusion melted away until she was like a puddle. Her head fell back against the cool porcelain that covered the iron, the curved lip on the tub cradling her neck the way her husband's hand had earlier, when he'd kissed her into eager submission. And he'd as much as told her they weren't finished. A little thrill sizzled through her belly at that thought. She would have to try harder to let go of the weird feeling and just enjoy.
She found a bar of lavender scented soap, which she lathered on a pea green washcloth, inhaling the fragrance. She smoothed it over her skin, brushing against hair follicles in need of shaving. There was a women's razor there in a basket on the side of the bath. Damned fine detail if this is a dream, she muttered as she set about beautifying the perfect legs she had acquired.