The house was an extravagance, larger than I really needed. A turn of the century two-story Victorian, it needed minor repairs, major yard work and a complete paint job to cover the babyshit brown color the bank had slapped over the outside. The work crew had apparently come back later to scrape most of the paint off the now sealed windows. I could rationalize countless reasons for buying the house. The only honest one was that the house would take up a lot of my time.

Lisa and the boys were gone. After ten years, it just hadn't worked anymore. We saw the end at the same time, recognized and accepted it together. We were able to separate still loving each other.

She had our house, a job that actually paid better than mine and she had Matt and Eddie. I had the newer car and the dog. I knew this was better for them. I could be a great friend to the boys, but as the only full time parent I realized my limits. The boys were another reason for buying the house. Giving them a second real home, a haven that provided a sense of stability that an apartment or townhouse couldn't. They could each have their own room here during their visits. Rooms I still had to furnish.

After the closing I had bought enough furniture to take care of the living room and my bedroom. With all the boxes unpacked and stacked on the curb with the other trash, the furniture seemed to shrink. The house was still filled with emptiness. I decided that it was time to take a look at the neighborhood and visit some of many antique stores I had seen in the area. I wanted some pieces that would retain the age of the house and give it a character.

The bell above the door rang and the woman polishing the old silver greeted me with a very pleasant "Good morning."

"Can I help you find something?"

"I'm just looking around. I don't even know what I'm looking for yet." I was being cautious after visiting four other shops and the overly helpful owners. With a rather knowing smile and nod she told me to yell if I needed anything and went back to her silver.

As my eyes adjusted to the lower light in the shop, I began to see the organized mess surrounding me. Split cane chairs sitting on top of clawfoot tables. Polished dark woods with golden inlays. Small dust covered treasures tucked away on every open flat surface. Stepping further in, I felt like I was entering some kind of giant maze that would reward me with wonderful long forgotten childhood memories along the way. Each turn unveiling more of the past. On the other side of a wardrobe was a side table that I remembered from my grandmother's. There was an aunt's china cabinet, an uncle's desk and my mother's dining room table and chairs. I had thought I was providing a home for the boys; now I knew I wanted a home for myself.

At the end of one short path hung a large quilt. The colors and pattern pulled me closer. It would give my bed that feeling of warmth it currently lacked. I enjoyed the feel of it and lifted the edge to look at the other side and was staring into someone's face. The surprise of it shook me for just a second and I dropped the quilt. When my brain finally decided who I had been looking at, I smiled and lifted the edge again to see my reflection smiling foolishly back.

I pulled on the quilt and stepped back to uncover the mirror beneath.

Standing before me was a dark wooden frame at least seven feet tall and four wide. The glass itself was square with rounded corners and so perfect it seemed more an entrance then a barrier. At the base on either side, griffins sat at attention. Eagle talons gripped the floor in front, lion's claws in back. The faces were profiled and the beaks opened toward each other, floating on the near invisible glass. Their wings rose up to support the mirror and became lost in a carved filigree of vines and leaves that formed other half-recognizable shapes and elusive figures. At the crown, a spiked sunburst held a smaller round mirror.

And I stood there, in the center of it. The forgotten quilt, a rainbow train sweeping to the floor, disappeared into the mouths of the guardians.

"It's not for sale."

The silver woman's voice gave me a second surprise.

"I'm sorry?"

"The quilt, someone else is picking up this afternoon." She said as she took the quilt and began to fold it up. "I just had it hanging there to air it out a little. Did you find anything else?"

"Yes." Coming back from wherever I had wandered. "Actually several things."

As we walked back towards the front of the store I pointed out the dining table and chairs, two side tables, the uncle's desk and a wardrobe.

While she was writing up the order and getting the authorization on my credit card I began playing with a Chinese black enameled box. There was no obvious way to open it and I realized it was a puzzle box. It rattled as I turned it over.

"I have never been able to open that thing." the woman said. "I've thought about breaking it to see what's inside, but don't want to lose the box if it's only junk."

I had seen something similar and remembered the secret. I pushed a small panel, slid the bottom, moved a second panel and the top opened. Inside were three rings and a jeweled cameo.

"A real treasure chest." I said as I poured the jewelry into the woman's waiting hand.

"I can't believe it. These are beautiful, and the stones look real. I got the box from an estate sale of an elderly lady who had lived in this neighborhood all her life. The nephew didn't want to take the trouble to go through her things and let me have whatever I wanted. Thank you." She said smiling up at me. "Is there anything else you would like? You just earned yourself a big credit."

Turning and looking back into what seemed the near infinite depths of the shop, I said, "How 'bout that mirror the quilt was on?"

"It's a deal! And you can have the Chinese box too!"

I was tempted to take the box. Matt would love it, but then seeing its possible future destruction at the hands of my overly inquisitive son, I said, "You keep it. It's part of the jewelry's story."

"All right. Just the mirror then, when do you want this all delivered?"

As the time for the delivery neared I had settled on the location of all the furniture. All except the mirror.

Wandering from room to room, I had crossed off the dining room and both the boys' rooms. That left the living room, entry hall and my bedroom. It could actually be of use in the entry with a coat rack next to it. It seemed it would be intrusive in the living room. Now I stood in my bedroom looking at the bay window. The bed was across the room and I liked looking at the trees when I woke in the morning. I got a hint of what the day was like as I lay there. But the bay of the window would frame the mirror. I could picture it standing there and knew it was the exactly where it needed to be. It made me hesitate even more.

As I walked down the stairs to answer the doorbell, the decision was made. It would go upstairs in front of the window.

Over the next several weeks I adjusted to the house and it adjusted to me. Matt and Eddie had loved their rooms and climbing the tree in the backyard. I felt at home.

It was Saturday night. I had worked in the yard, cleaning up after the dog, mowing, planting some shrubs in the front. After dinner I enjoyed lying on the couch watching a rented movie.

When it was over, I turned off the TV and could see moonlight coming though the blinds of the living room. I thought about just turning over and sleeping right there, but a slight chill promised to get cooler, so I levered myself up and then off the couch.

I entered the bedroom, took off my jeans, pulled my shirt over my head and was suddenly looking at the mirror outlined by the moonlight. The glass seemed darker, even though I could see myself in the shadows of the room within. I smoothed down the hair my shirt had mussed and walked toward the mirror. As I crossed the border of gray my skin glowed from the full moon outside. I was entranced by the contrasts of dark blacks and luminous whites that highlighted the muscles of my arms and chest. A black thorn pointed down the center of my stomach and disappeared into the brilliant white of my briefs.

Watching the shadows change shape as I moved, I raised my hand to touch the surface I knew was in front of me. The reflected hand was inches from the real one. I looked through the other fingers and could see the dresser behind me, and the puzzle box resting where it should not have been.

It all froze.

I looked into the familiar eyes looking into mine and saw the fear. A breath finally shuddered into my chest. I turned around. On the dresser was my wallet and watch.

I faced the mirror again. On the dresser were my wallet, watch and the puzzle box.

My eyes were still looking back at me. Hands rose up to reach for each other. Seconds later my fingers reached for the others in the mirror. Icy thin rings encircled and chilled my fingers, then they were warmed by his fingers. Our, my, his hand gripped mine and he stepped forward and through.

His chest against mine. Breathing together, feeling his breath against me.

I touched his shoulder as he touched mine. A smile came and slowly faded. His fingers traced the line of my neck, up to the side of my face and stopped. I knew what was happening next before it happened and I closed my eyes, but the warmth of his lips against mine was still surprising. The embrace moved down our bodies. I knew him as he knew me. The soft touches, the sweet softness of his mouth against mine.

The embrace became harder; we wanted to be the one person we really were.

His hands brushed down my back, then inside my shorts, touching, tickling, and caressing me.

I kissed his neck, chest. I let my tongue play briefly with a nipple, before continuing on to his waist and stomach. His shorts were gone and then mine. Entwined on the floor, we each tasted the other, ourselves. We felt the warm wetness of the other's lips as we slid into the other's mouth, swallowing each as deeply as we could.

I could feel his pulse against my tongue, then withdrawn and then forcing my lips apart again.

Swirling dizziness overwhelmed me. Skin brushing skin, twisting, now his lips were against mine again. Our arms strained to hold the other closer. I wanted him and he knew it. I clasped my legs around his waist. His eyes looked at mine with incredible wonder and slowly closed and he slid into my body. I could only breath in. The air filled my lungs more and more as he filled me.

He lowered his face to mine and locked his arms around me as my legs were locked around him.

Then he started to move.

Every sliding friction brought a gasping sigh from me. His motion rubbed his stomach against me. The faster his rhythm the more flesh rubbed flesh. Our muscles sparkled in the moonlight. My hands were on his back, his shoulders, sliding down and feeling the hardness of his thighs.

Faster and harder, ours sighs become moans. Louder. Fingers pressed into flesh. Finally a growl tore from our chests as he thrust deeper and harder then ever. The world froze and started. It froze and started again. And again.

He slowly rested on top of me. Resting his head next to mine he smiled. We both held each other we stretched and languished in the feeling of muscles playing against each other.

As I watched the moon travel to the edge of the window, we settled into the gentle warmth of the other. When the last sliver was gone, I was asleep.

I could still feel a warmth play across my body, as I began to wake up. But there was a different brightness. More golden. The sun was up and I was alone. My reflection woke with me. I knew it was real. I could still feel his lips traveling over my body.

I stood up and faced the man in front of me, separated for now.

As I looked at him and at the puzzle box behind him, I knew I would be waiting for he moon to rise.