Page 3 of Familiar Things New

Edwin and Agnes locked eyes for the briefest moment before Agnes dropped her gaze to her hands, which were resting atop the newly finished dress. She began fiddling with the lace trim, and the corners of her mouth pinched as though she was trying her best to suppress a smile.

“Oh no. It’s one of the reasons I find him wearying,” she said.

“Ah.” Edwin had to purse his lips to contain a smile of his own now, too. “Shall I tell him that tomorrow?” he asked, though he knew what she would say.

William and Agnes flirting through Edwin was nothing new.

“Yes, please. If only to temper that ridiculous ego of his.”

Edwin chuckled. “Ridiculous ego. I wish I could have even a fraction of Will’s confidence.”

“I see no reason why you shouldn’t.” Agnes paused and smirked at him. “Other than to avoid becoming even a fraction as insufferable.”

Edwin laughed a little more while shaking his head. Sometimes he wished that he had someone to flirt with, even if through another person. Or, hell, even in letters. But developing feelings for someone would be unwise, especially because there would be no way for him to ever pursue that someone in earnest.

Before Edwin was able to ask whether he should pass along that particular insult as well, Agnes stood and grabbed hold of his sleeve. Immediately, she started into the hall, pulling Edwin along with her. After a few paces, she stopped in front of a mirror, the rim of which was cracked. Grabbing Edwin by the shoulders, she forced him to face it. Edwin focused on the peeling wallpaper instead.

“Look at you. Why shouldn’t you have more confidence in yourself?”

Edwin exhaled a long sigh. He supposed he might as well look in the mirror like Agnes wanted, if only to avoid a scolding from his sibling.

Reluctantly, Edwin shifted his gaze to view his reflection. Thankfully, seeing it wasn’t a wholly unpleasant experience for him anymore. Lately, he had even begun to like certain things about himself—his blond hair (cropped short and parted in the middle), his hazel eyes (more brown than green), his high cheekbones (perhaps not as prominent and sharp as he would have liked, but still striking enough), and even the little crease in the middle of his chin. If the lighting was just right, he looked almost exactly like his father.

While Edwin was scrutinizing his reflection, a memory materialized in his mind, one that made his breath catch and his heart ache at once.

“Are you sure you’d like it to be this long?” Agnes asked, taking a chunk of Edwin’s newly cut hair between her index and middle fingers. “Because I wonder if shorter would—”

“Let me see it,” Edwin said. “Before you cut more.”

Agnes turned and reached for the handheld mirror but paused just as her fingertips grazed the handle.

“One more thing,” she said as she whirled back around to face Edwin. He squirmed, shifting his weight on the stool as Agnes then pushed a comb through his hair. “Let me style it first. I think that might make it clearer to both of us whether this particular cut suits you.”

Edwin tried not to think about the many times his mother had made that exact same statement about styling, only it had been in regard to pinning Edwin’s previously long hair back in some sort of braid or twist, rather than choosing a simple part. He began picking at the skin around his thumb as Agnes parted his hair to the right and then to the left, the pain a welcome interruption to the unwelcome thoughts of mornings past. Each time Agnes parted it, she paused and pursed her lips. Finally, she ran a comb through it one last time and parted it in the center instead. Afterward, she took a small blob of bandoline in her fingers to smooth the stray strands into place.

“Finished,” she said, backing away.

She held out the mirror for Edwin, and he swallowed thickly as he took it from her. Running his thumb over the brass, his heart began to hammer as it traced the pattern on the handle.

He couldn’t help but be surprised by the weight of it.

Letting out a breath, Edwin finally lifted the mirror to see his reflection.

And, for the first time in his life, he saw himself staring back at him.

“Thoughts?” Agnes asked.

Edwin could only continue to stare. Slowly, his reflection began to shift and change, his eyes unfocusing as newly formed tears blurred his vision. He blinked them away, only to see his father staring back at him instead.

Trembling, Edwin shut his eyes. How cruel it was that his father would never know him like this. Agnes’s voice cut through Edwin’s melancholic thoughts.

“Do you like it?” she asked.

“Yes,” Edwin rasped out, reopening his eyes. He was looking at himself again. “It’s perfect.”

Agnes circled around behind him, and her face appeared in the mirror next to his. She smiled warmly.

“It is.”