Vivien K. Wilk

"Stubborn to the end, but you have to admire her for that."

Brigitte threw her husband a warning look, but he skilfully overlooked it. In respond she rolled her eyes in frustration and left the dining room to take away the dishes. Grace suspected that she thought she might feel uncomfortable talking about her great-aunt like that. But it was the opposite. From the first second, Brennen's open and rather direct manner had made Grace feel as if she would undoubtedly belong to them. She felt part of the family, even though they had never met before. In general, Brennan seemed like a sociable counterpart. He wore his short gray hair with a certain pride. The contrast was his dark red beard, which was only streaked with a few silver hairs. Next to his tall wife, he looked rather short and a little plump.

"You don't mind that I say that, do you?"

"No, no, it's okay."

Grace laughed in embarrassment, whereupon Brennen leaned back and smiled.

"Brigitte is a little too protective sometimes."

"I can still hear you!"

His wife's voice came from the kitchen next door, and Brennen winked at Grace with a grin.

"Are you sure I shouldn't help?" Grace asked in the direction of the kitchen, also to distract a little from the previous topic.

"You are our guest. If anyone should move his butt, it is my dear husband."

Brigitte came back with a piece of apple cake for everyone.

"Bear with me. I was dragged from one repair to the next all day today."

"Don't be fooled Grace, he's doing it all voluntarily. God is my witness that he's less at home than he was before he retired."

"Now I have time for my projects!"

Brigitte grumbled something to herself before taking a deep breath. For a moment there was silence as everyone tasted their first slice of the cake. After the cheesecake and dinner, Grace was no longer surprised that the apple cake was fantastic too. Every bite made her feel cozy.

"How is it in the old house?" Asked Brennen, "It's pretty big to be alone there."

"Unfamiliar. Yesterday night I had the feeling I heard something from downstairs, but when I checked there was nothing. Probably it is only the wood working."

"Or there are ghosts and goblins."

Brigitte gave her husband an annoyed look.

"Now don't scare our guest. It's enough that she is alone in the house."

"I can't say I believe in such things," Grace replied, shrugging.

"This shows that you are not Irish. But Evellyn has always taken good care of her garden and the needs of the fairy people. I am sure they will leave you alone."

Grace looked at Brigitte in surprise.

"Did Evellyn believe in something like that."

"Most of us here do. I also have a place for them in my garden."

"And even if they don't exist, it doesn't hurt to play it safe," said Brennen with a smile.

"Sorry if I sounded disrespectful."

"Not at all. It's hard to understand for outsiders. Everyone works a little differently here. And Evellyn lived here for so long that she understood why most people believe in it. But it wasn't easy for her at the beginning either. Our mother was very much superstitious and her new daughter-in-law had to learn everything from her that was possible. "

Brigitte laughed heartily.

"You could really feel sorry for her," agreed Brennen, "but she endured it with patience. No wonder everyone liked her."

Grace and Brigitte nodded reverently at the same time. These words seemed to trigger something in Grace, because she suddenly saw how she had come into the house after an argument with Melody. Evellyn had called her into the kitchen and asked her what had happened. She couldn't remember all the details, but there was a feeling of security and warmth. And Evellyn's calm face as she patiently listened to her ranting to the end. It hadn't taken long after that and she had made up with Melody again. And somehow she couldn't shake the feeling that Evellyn had something to do with it.

"I'm sorry. It's hard not to put the mood down."

Brigitte's words made her look up in surprise. There was clearly concern on the face of the elderly.

"No, not really. I was just remembering something," Grace assured hastily, "Since I've been here, memories have come back that I had obviously completely forgotten. It's a strange feeling."

"Because on some visits you were very young. No wonder you don't remember everything. But you see, you don't have to worry about the young lady all the time. I think she's tougher than you think."

Burning gave his wife a meaningful look.

"Well, I'll leave it alone. But Grace, if anything is bothering you, you can always come to us."

 

Grace was on her bed, facing the sloping ceiling. She had snuggled under the covers a while ago. Brigitte had insisted on giving her freshly laundered bedding. If she was being honest, she only been half reluctant. In fact, it felt a lot cozier now than just the blankets. While she listened to the wind outside as it rustled the trees around the house, she had lain there without thoughts for a while. She had actually hoped to fall asleep quickly. The warmth of the blanket and the darkness of the room had enveloped her at the beginning and her eyes were slowly closing. But suddenly she was wide awake again. Was it a thought? Or a sound?

Grace took a deep breath. The evening had been nice. It had been difficult for her to break away from there and return to the empty house. Even if her thoughts had been to Evellyn again and again, she had felt good about it. Here it seemed as if she was falling into a hole again. All the memories swirled through her head. And then there was that feeling when she came up the stairs. As if Evellyn was about to come out of the kitchen. It was like a punch in the stomach. She had wished it was true. That she would have visited her great-aunt again. Why hadn't she done so? Had her studies been so important that she didn't even have time during the semester break?

A sharp pain went through her chest. Her body felt shaky. Her hand clutched her pillow.

It was probably not important enough to you! But you were important enough to Evellyn to write to you and to leave you her whole fucking bookstore. What was she thinking? She must have been so disappointed in me.

Grace jerked herself upright. Her throat tightened more and more. She gasped for air. Her heart raced in her chest as chills ran down her spine. She swung her legs quickly over the edge of the bed. Her attempts to breathe calmly were made difficult by the tremor in her body. Only slowly did she regain control. She focused all of her concentration on her breathing. She had to force herself to breathe in and out deeply. As the tremors slowly subsided, everything spun in her head. Grace put her hand on her heart. She could feel the pounding against her chest. Whatever that was, she didn't want to think about it. She didn't need to lose her nerve now. On the spur of the moment she switched the light back on. Her whole body was still electrified. She would never fall asleep like this. Her head was empty and although she was completely cranked up, she also felt exhausted at the same time. Without further ado, she grabbed her pillow and blanket and got up. If she couldn't sleep, it was better if she kept busy. Her legs almost felt a little numb as she slowly descended the stairs. She didn't trust her body and grabbed the banister all the more tightly. In the end, however, she arrived in the living room. Easier she made herself comfortable on the couch and grabbed the remote control. No matter what, hopefully it would distract her.