Mom used to sit by the lake reading, sometimes smiling, sometimes frowning, and she became the vibrant subject of Dad’s paintings.
Tanya had thrown away Mom’s belongings and photos, but she’d missed Dad’s sketchbooks.
Those drawings were tucked away in a dusty little attic.
When Mom discovered them, she proudly claimed they were proof of Dad’s undying love.
Ugh, posthumous affection is about as genuine as an unexpected stomach bug!
Dad gently patted my hand and sighed deeply.
“Maybe it’s time to go see them.”
He took the bait!
I couldn’t help but let a small smile creep across my lips.
Suddenly, Tanya’s syrupy voice wafted in from the doorway.
“Simon, I’m back!”
And right behind her was my fabulously wealthy grandmother.
I could see the satisfaction flicker in Grandma’s eyes as my smile froze.
That old bitch was always up to something.
As a kid, she’d tempt me to mess with the bed frame or touch live electrical outlets.
She’d even toss toys into the bathtub and dare me to fish them out.
My ghost mom would freak out, making the whole scene way more dramatic and entertaining.
I’d quickly steer clear of those dangers, which probably saved me from an accident.