Chapter Text
“Gramps, listen, I’m grown, I’ve got the mechanic and the neighbor’s number memorized, and should anything go wrong, I’ll give you a shout, okay? Okay, love you, bye- eeeeee !” It’s one thing, I roll my neck, wincing at the couple of cracks and pops it gives as I place my now silent phone on the old table. A table that is now mine, technically. Legally.
I could do whatever I wanted with this table.
With this house.
It’s suddenly a much bigger house than it actually is.
But, shivering the nerves away, flicking my fingertips as I give a spin in the cluttered home, humming to myself as I try to find any other boxes I need to unpack. Gramps left more than half of his furniture, said something about meaning a lot to be able to come home when he was tired. Whenever that would be, he added with a shy smile. A shy smile and the warmest hug he’d ever give. Waving him bye at the airport more than a few hours away from his- I mean, my home meant I’d get to sleep in the early hours in the morning after shoving the last of my things in the back of my dull Sedan.
The shine on her had waived away over the years but it’s fine. She handles the extra weight fine, and she gets me home in one piece. That’s all I ask of her.
But getting home had led to unpacking till midnight, and perhaps the early hours for Gramps in one of the many cities he’d talked about, and getting a call from said Gramps. Wondering how I’m doing in this lonesome cabin all by myself. It took five minutes of sweet words and rock-solid logic to get him off the phone and head to bed— or maybe, talk to that nice man that he’d met on the plane.
So that’s where we’re at right now.
Late hours in the night, spinning in a cabin I never thought I’d own, all by myself. Set to live however I want. It’s a lot to happen in the span of a month but a new change in pace is actually what I needed at the moment. And though I feel if I spin once more, dwell on the fact that my closest neighbor is literally miles away, I might puke, I’m not sure I can pull myself to be anything less than happy. For me and Gramps.
All he ever wanted was to see the world, and with the house paid for, and actually being looked after, given away to someone who would love it as much as he did, and the money he’d saved all these years… What was to stop him but actually leave?
Course I cried, I’d miss him like crazy but more than anything I’m happy for him. It’s a literal dream come true for him. The smile and the joy on his face- it’d been worth the hectic, crazy month. It was worth it all. He deserved it all.
And now that I’ve stopped spinning, holding onto the counter as I pressed a hand into my chest, I can find some peace for myself. Looking up, my eyes trail over dizzy visions of the kitchen counters, over the fridge and stove, and over the glass door leading to the backyard.
Oh, the backyard.
Growing up here, visiting during all of the holidays I could, the backyard had always been my favorite. A hammock hanging between two large trees in the middle of a beautiful garden, daffodils and azaleas and daylilies, and then the picnic table he built himself. The various statues littering the backyard. And of course, when it's night time, I can see the little lanterns strung across the fences, the ones hanging high above my head. And then, at the edge of the yard, I can make out the beginning of the forest, an old, creaky gate separating the two of us.
Sometimes I’m grateful, other times I’m not. Sometimes I’m curious to see what would leak through and spill into my world. What creatures would drape itself in the garden, what force would be so bright, that I’d shield my eyes, leave them be to enjoy the hard labors of my grandfather.
Other times I listen at night and I’m more than grateful for the rickety gate shielding me and the cabin. I don’t like the silence at night.
Because when I was younger I could never get the noise to quiet, no fan, no song could cover the sound of life just outside of my window.
Now, I realize with a chill in my spine, smoothing out the duvet on my mattress, it’s quiet. Actually quiet.
I’d peek out of the window to see what’s going on but the thought of someone watching me made me turn around, trip over a variety of clutter on the floor, and draw the curtains blind.
Crawling into my bed, now assured that should anything peek into my window, they’d find nothing but navy fabric blocking their vision, I settle into the sheets with a soft sigh. My eyes close as I reach for the remote I left on the bed, pressing the top, embedded button that turns the lights off, leaving me in the darkness.
Shifting in the sheets, I lay on my side, curling up and pressing my face into the pillow, slipping into unconsciousness. Though, if I had fallen asleep a little later, I would’ve heard the sound of a gate opening.
*
The next morning is filled with exciting activities, such as breakfast of two eggs that makes me rush to the bathroom barely an hour later, tending to the online college class I was almost finished with, and sitting in the backyard, brushing my bare foot against the soft grass while I read in the hammock.
Just as it was before, nothing has changed much. Except Gramps wasn’t home because he had to run to the store really quick, nor was he bringing over my younger cousins who resolutely had nothing to do with me. He was in a different country, living life to the fullest, and I’m here.
The reality doesn’t sit in until dinner comes around, where I make a sad little sandwich, too much peanut butter and not nearly enough strawberry jam. Juice does little for me, the pulp too much for me to enjoy the beverage.
Yet, sitting outside while the sun had lazily kissed me goodnight and waved the trees bye, disappearing over the horizon and the cool breeze of the night settling in… it was a sight to see.
I’m looking around as I clear my mess on the picnic table, shooing away the ants there, catching the sight of an open gate. It swings in the sway of the wind, sometimes catching on the grass but it’s- it’s open. Unlocked. My face scrunches up in thought, setting the platter and cup on the table before heading over to the gate. The wood doesn’t feel any different, the lock clicks shut, but I haven’t even touched the fence, much less open the gate. And you’d need the key that sits in the prettiest bowl by the front door. Walking back to the picnic table, I listen to the chitter of the trees, no doubt talking about how dumb I must look.
Maybe I did unlock it and forgot to close it, I think more to myself as I take the dishes inside, double checking the door is locked behind me. Because what are the other options? A racoon sneaking inside of the house, taking that specific key, unlocking the gate and exiting through there, because if I am correct… I check the bowl by the door and yeah, the key is still there. It’s still there and the racoon put it back the way it was before leaving.
But forgot to close it… right.
I sigh to myself, dragging a hand down my face as I look around the place. I’d worry more about it but it’d always been like this at Gramps’ place. Strange things happening with no reason as to why. Things you couldn’t just explain away.
And when my mom had asked why he didn’t just move if he didn’t like it, once when we were visiting and I was eavesdropping, he didn’t really give an answer. Had its charm, he said. Liked the weird, strange happenings.
I liked it too, and liked to pretend I could cause some of it. He always humored me, which is something I always appreciated.
Mom hadn’t.
It’s whatever, I wave the thoughts away, tucking a towel into my arm with a change of clothes, looking around for last minute items before heading into the bathroom.
One of the best things, I found out growing up here, that the movies had reason to place the reading in the tub. Best things I could do right now, losing myself in the floating feeling of the water and in a story somebody had so kindly woven together for me to enjoy.
Ten minutes pass by and there’s a knock at the back door. The book comes away from my face, as I listen again. Could be my overactive imagination, couldn’t it? Couldn’t be anything else. Maybe it’s the racoon?
Several knocks sound out and I force myself to get out, wrapping the towel around me. The book tossed aside as I exit the room, little steam billows out above me as I walk down the hallway. There’s nobody in their right mind who would knock at this time of night, at the back door, much less the only way you could get in is if you were nine feet tall to climb the fence or if you were a particularly handy racoon who could fiddle with my locks.
Rounding the corner, peeking just barely over the wall, I could see the door aaaaaaand… nothing. Though I wasn’t aware that my shoulders had scrunched up, they relaxed from the tension as I walked to the door. I could see my reflection, hair slightly damp and body absolutely dripping. I couldn’t see anybody else. The lanterns were on again, and the backyard, though notably dim in lighting, I’d still be able to see the perpetrator knocking on my door.
I stretch my neck to look around the hammock trees to see if-
Yeah.
Fuck .
I exhale, breath coming out shakier than a few minutes before. I turn around, throwing looks over my shoulders as I head to my room, bathroom be damned.
Shutting the door closed and locking it, I look around and immediately my sights are locked on the dresser. And yes, while I’m still naked, wrapped in nothing except a pathetic excuse of a towel, I shove the dresser to sit in front of my door. Turning to the window, I know there’s not much I can do there. It doesn’t open and the only way somebody is getting in is if they’re breaking the glass. The thought doesn’t leave much comfort, drawing the curtains to see if it does anything. It brings, again, little comfort.
I’m thoroughly shaking as I pull an old tee over my torso, slipping somebody else’s boxers over my ass. Tucking myself into the bed, I leave the light on.
It doesn’t help.
*
Fourteen hours later and I’m standing in the middle of the cereal aisle, staring down a box of sugary circles, daring me to get anything else, when somebody prods my shoulder with little kindness. I flinch, rubbing my shoulder as I turn to give this prick a piece of my mind when I realize who it is.
A kid I used to babysit while growing up here. She says my name with a wide smile, as if she couldn’t believe her eyes. Though it’s been ten years since I’d seen her, I couldn’t forget the adventures she and I went on, and I’m…
Yes, I’m shocked. I have the right to be. I’m just getting groceries!
“It’s- wow, you’ve grown up so much Eileen,” I say, with a dropped jaw, bringing her in for a hug, never mind the box of Apple Jacks in my hand.
“More than you know,” she muses, the grin on her face tells more than her words. And a call of her name from a different aisle tugs at both of our attention, and she’s throwing a call of her own back. “What are you doing back, though, I thought your old man left town, said something about joining the circus?” I smile through a laugh.
“Wouldn’t be surprised if he did, but uh, no, last I checked, he wasn’t in one, just- following the wind wherever it takes him, you know?” And then as she’s about to ask another question, somebody tall with a squealing toddler in their arms turns around the corner of the aisle and Eileen’s attention turns away from me completely.
Speaking with honey lacing her voice, it was clear the squealing baby had found who she was looking for. “ Hi baby girl, there you are, didn’t Daddy tell you I was gonna be right back?” She gives him a look.
He kissed her on the forehead, “and she told me that it couldn’t wait.”
Turning back to me, she tucks herself into the side of this man, this Daddy who sends me a curious look. “Baby, this is who I was telling you about the other day, my dad’s old friend, this is his grandkid, used to babysit me and everything.” And when she peels herself away, she drapes an arm across my shoulder, squeezing as she laughs and giggles with her baby.
“A mom?” I can’t help the shock on my face. The last time I’d seen her she was digging her nails into a mud pie, squirming and whining about the wiggling worms underneath her fingers. She was covered in dirt like I was as we ran through the forest behind Gramps’ cabin. She used to kiss frogs!
“Yeah, surprised me too!” She elbows me with a belly laugh. And when her baby reached out, Momma introduced me. “Say hi, baby,” she gives a little tickle and the darling thing tucks her head into her momma’s neck. Eileen sends me a sweet smile, “she’s a little shy with new people.”
I shrug it off, unable to keep the smile off my face, “I would be too, what’s her name, by the way?”
Eileen’s smile only grows, “Name’s Honey, too sweet to be anything else, huh?” And looking at the little girl, it’s clear it fits her well.
“Sure does,” I say and then turn to the man standing in front of me, who’d been patiently watching the interaction with adoring eyes. “And you must be?” I ask, sticking my hand out.
“Garth, nice to meet you,” he smiles warmly, pulling my hand into a firm hug, and I have to laugh it out, patting his back as he does mine. Pulling away, Eileen is quick to take the spot between us both, Honey staring at me with wide eyes from her momma’s neck.
“Pleasure,” and as I’m about to say anything else, Garth’s phone rings, and he pulls it out, checking the name on the phone and gives me a polite nod, he turns away, answering it.
I turn to Eileen, waiting till she looks at me for a second before I ask, “so, married yet?” Eileen’s smile isn’t big but it’s excited, aiming it downwards to her kid.
“Wanted to wait until Honey was either bigger or, I don’t know, the right time for the ceremony. I mean, the certificate was already signed before she was even thought of- but, we both wanted to wait till she could remember it, you know?” Eileen’s too sweet, I tell her so. I tell her her family is going to give me cavities and Honey starts to clap when her momma laughs.
“Hey, Mom’s starting to wonder where we’re at,” Garth says coming back after the call, and Eileen nods and turns back to me.
“We’re having a little barbeque, you’re welcome to join if you want.” And it’s… You want to think about it, want to come off as casual. But the thought of going back to the cabin and getting freaked out again… you’re less than casual.
“As long as you don’t mind!” I say, nodding so fast my vision blurs for a second, and though Honey seems to be the only to notice the raise in volume, she doesn’t make a mention of it. Eileen shushes me, tells me it’s no bother, that I’m always welcome.
“Did you drive here?” She asks and the thought of walking to the grocery store, the three miles of a dirt road, the edge of a forest, and myself? No way I would’ve lasted long before rushing back to my beat up Sedan. “Here, Garth, give her the address,” and he does, even sends it through a text to my phone, giving me both of theirs.
“You can change if you want, but I think you look great so head over whenever you’re ready!” Eileen says, kissing my cheek goodbye and squeezing my shoulders again, Garth giving another hug and Honey waving shyly goodbye. I’m left in the cereal aisle with Apple Jacks in my hand.
I bite my lip bringing up the hand holding my phone and press the bone of my wrist into my mouth, thinking long and hard if I want to go change. There was still the thought of needing to clean the bathroom. No doubt the tub needed to be drained but…
Gramps, forgive me, I’ve never been scared to be in that house but right now it’s a little… A little too much.
I check out with cereal, a few bags of chips and bottled teas, fully prepared to leave it all in the back. And when I get back to my car, I check the trunk and I’m just slightly grateful for leaving my overnight bag in there. The flannel and jeans beat the dark sweats and baggy tee, I change inside the store, ignoring the pointed look I got from someone who looked three steps out of the first boutique known to mankind.
I ended up with the flannel going over my tee but still, I’m a little more presentable after I changed and splashed water in my face.
I was not ignoring my problems. I was not running away from my grandfather’s house that he left me. A house I don’t have to worry about losing. I was not at all worried about what’s going to happen after the barbeque is over and I have to go home. I am not worried about tonight at all.
I breathe in and out as I pull out of the parking spot, beginning the drive to Eileen’s. I am completely fine.
Opening my eyes after a slow blink, I have to slam the breaks before I hit this strange person in the middle of the street. He doesn’t say anything, just turns the slightest in my direction and says something, and with my windows up, that I cannot hear. It’s when he’s out of the way that I start moving, pulling to the edge of the store’s parking lot when I glance behind me.
He’s nowhere to be found in the somewhat empty lot. Not nearly close enough to be walking inside of the store already.
I let out the shakiest laugh I’ve to offer, mumbling a bunch of curses as I try to shove that into the back of my head. “Completely fine, yeah, yeah, nothing to worry about. Totally fine.”
Utterly fine.