Evie grabbed her phone from the side of the bed and quieted the alarm. It was barely audible so as not wake Brad. She tiptoed out of the bedroom, grabbing her workout clothes from the chair on the way out.

Evie got up every morning at 6am (except Sunday) to exercise. It was a ritual with her; come hell or high water, Evie stuck with it (unless her kids were sick, she was sick, or Brad was sick).

She changed and made her way down to the basement.

Monday, she did yoga; Tuesday the stationary bike; Wednesday weight training; Thursday the treadmill; Friday stretching, and Saturday was a free day to do whatever she felt she needed.

Evie didn’t drink alcohol after that fateful party in high school, never did drugs; her only addiction was exercise.

Evie knew she had lots of issues that she hadn’t dealt with and she wasn’t sure she would ever deal with them. They were buried so deep inside her that she was afraid to let them come to the surface.

Evie suffered from post-partem depression with all three of her children and went on medication to help her through, even while she was pregnant, but as soon as she was able, she weaned herself off the meds. She ate well, took supplements, exercised, and so far, she hadn’t gone down that slippery slope again. Evie didn’t go to therapy despite Brad’s encouragement to do so and she only talked about a few details of her childhood to her family doctor. Even her friends didn’t know anything. Evie had good friends, but not since Shelly has she had a “best friend.”

Evie rarely saw her Aunt Bev and Uncle Ray. Usually at holidays like Thanksgiving, Christmas, and maybe the occasional birthday (not hers, but her kids). She liked her aunt, but she always wanted to dig deep into her psyche and talk about her parents. Her uncle was a strange man; very gruff and aloof. Although Evie was pretty aloof herself, she was not rude like her Uncle Ray.

Even though Evie’s life was full with her children, her kids, Brad, and her job, there was an emptiness that just wouldn’t go away.

Evie sometimes had time for a shower before getting the family up and running, but not always. She would walk her girls to school, drop Troy off at the adjoining daycare, and then come back to shower. She was lucky enough to work from home part time.

Today, however, she had the morning off, so she arranged with her friend, Becky to go for a walk. Becky had a rambunctious retriever that needed a lot of exercise, so she was always happy to go with them.

During breakfast, Evie got a text from Becky saying she had a migraine and couldn’t go. The local dog walker was taking Frankie.

Evie was all set to go for a walk on her own, but she decided to grab a coffee first.

After dropping off the kids, Evie made her way into the “village.”

The “village” was a suburban upmarket area that was built to accommodate a growing population of well-to-do property owners.

There were a couple of banks, bookstores, boutiques, two coffee shops, an expensive restaurant, a sushi takeout, a butcher, bakery, an organic grocery store, esthetics/nail salon, and an antique shop.

Despite its pretentiousness, Evie liked the “village.” There was a quaintness about it and all the shopkeepers were friendly. The coffee was excellent in both places.

Evie went to the first one and ordered an Americano with a dash of oat milk.

“Can I get your name?” the server asked.

“Evelyn,” Evie replied.

Holy shit, where did that come from, Evie thought to herself. She never used her real name. She despised it. When she turned 12, after her dad died, she asked her mom and friends to call her Evie, which they all did.

Evie shook her head as she got her coffee and decided to walk around the village before going for her walk.

The antique shop was a favorite of hers. She had bought a few pieces in there, but it was wildly overpriced.

The bell rang as she opened the door. The owner, an Iranian woman named Maro, sat behind the counter looking at her IPad. Maro had flawless skin which was made-up perfectly.  She always wore brightly colored, expensive clothes with a gold necklace, gold earrings, and three rings on each of her perfectly-manicured hands. Her nails were painted dark red.

“Good morning, Mrs. Edwards,” Maro called out.

“Good morning, Maro. How are you today?” Evie returned the greeting politely.

“Very well, thank you. Can I help you with anything?”

“Ah, no, not really. I’m just looking. Is it okay that I have a coffee with me?”

“Of course. Please let me know if you need my assistance.”

Evie smiled and sipped her coffee. The shop had an upstairs with larger pieces of furniture. Evie glanced at the ornaments behind a glass cabinet, looked at the China dolls on the shelves, and admired an old-fashioned roll-top desk. Evie looked at the price tag and quickly let go like it was hot. It was hot, a hot price; way too much money. Evie thought about going upstairs, but decided against it. She needed to go on her walk. Just as she was about to leave, something caught her eye at the back of the shop. Sitting on top of an Edwardian dresser was an oval-shaped mirror. It was on a stand. Evie picked it up and looked into it. Her reflection wasn’t very clear; almost wavy, in fact. The wood surround was quite rough to the touch. It would need sanding and varnishing. The price tag on it read “$125.00.” It really was overpriced, but Evie was drawn to it, despite its flaws. She took it off of the dresser and brought it up to the counter.

“I’d like to buy this, Maro,” Evie said, getting a credit card from her wallet.

“Ah, that just came in yesterday.”

Maro rang up the purchase, accepting the credit card. She carefully wrapped it in bubble wrap and then put it in a brown bag with handles.

“Thank you, Mrs. Edwards. Enjoy.”

“Thanks,” Evie said and took her purchase out of the shop.

Instead of going for a walk, Evie brought it home. She cleared a space off her dresser and she did something she never did before; she brought out her chipped Snow White figurine from one of her drawers, the Snow White picture book, and the three dwarves. She carefully arranged them around the mirror. Content with her arrangement, she finally went for her walk.


For all installments of “Mirror, Mirror…,” click here.

Previous installments:

  1. Part 1
  2. Part 2
  3. Part 3
  4. Part 4
  5. Part 5