Daddy's Secret Christmas Wish

After a refreshingly warm shower, I crawled into Grandma’s fluffy goose-down bed. The musty smell of her old hand-made quilt made me feel right at home. Daddy’s old t-shirt hung to my knees like a dress as I pulled the blankets tightly to my chest. Grandma, in her long flannel nightgown, lay next to me. “You want to hear a ghost story?” she playfully whispered in a haunting voice.

            Now that was a silly question. “Yeah!” I answered enthusiastically. Grandma’s famous for her ghost stories. Well, at least to me she was. Simply the sound of her voice during a particularly creepy story made my skin crawl.

            “This one is true,” she proclaimed. “And it’s about this house. You sure you want to hear it?” I pulled the cover up over my face. My eyes, wide as saucers, peered over the top.

            “Really?” I whispered excitedly, knowing full well that this was going to be the story to top all stories. “Yeah, let’s hear it!”

            Grandma nodded. “Okay.”

            She pulled the quilt up over her legs, propped her elbow up on the pillow, and rested her head in her hand. She brushed her fingers across the hair on my forehead and began her story. “About a week ago,” she began, “I stepped outside to hang some wash on the line just like I always do. It was about 6:00 in the evening. The dogs were out there with me, and it was quiet. The breeze was blowing through the trees as if it were preparing for a big storm.

            All of a sudden, one of the dogs began to whine. He slowly crept over and nestled down next to me. I glanced down at the poor dear and I asked him, what’s wrong, baby?  He paid no attention to me. He simply sat there whimpering and staring over at the house. He then lay down next to me and covered his eyes with his paws. I continued hanging the clothes as if nothing had happened. Then suddenly, out of the corner of my eye, I saw it.”

            “Saw what, Grandma?” I asked expectantly as my eyes were ready to pop from their sockets.

            “I looked up at the second floor window, my bedroom window, and the curtain closed quickly. At first, I thought it was just the wind, till I realized that the windows were closed, and the curtains were drawn.

            I thought maybe I was imagining things, so I turned to finish hanging the clothes. A few minutes later, I grabbed the empty basket and turned slowly toward the house. I peered up at the window once more and guess what I saw?”

            My eyes closed tightly. “What was it, Grandma?” I asked with fear and anticipation. “What was it?”

            She smiled that familiar toothless grin of hers. “I saw your Grandpa plain as day staring down at me from my bedroom window.”

            I quickly jerked the blanket up over my head. “No way!  Did you really?” I asked.

            “Yep,” she answered. “He was staring down at me just like he did when he was alive.”

            I gently and slowly pulled the blanket down below my eyes. “Then what did you do, Grandma?” 

            “I dropped the basket, spilling the clothes all over the ground, then looked away and put my hands over my eyes. Then I slowly turned back around and glanced up at the window again, and guess what?”

            My eyes were still as wide as saucers. “What?” I asked.

            “Just like that,” she shrugged and raised her arms in mystification. “He was gone.”

            Again, I pulled the blankets up over my head. Grandma reached up, gently grabbed the blanket, and pulled it down, exposing my eyes. “I went into the house and up to the bedroom, and you know what was really weird?”

            My eyes just barely peeking from beneath the blanket, I asked, “No, what?”

            “I could smell your Grandpa’s cigarette smoke. It’s as if he had never left. But I know there’s no way he could have been there. And no one has smoked in this house since your Grandpa passed away. I won’t even let your Daddy smoke his smelly old pipe in here. I make him go outside.”

            I uncovered my head from the blankets. “Weren’t you scared, Grandma?” I asked.

            “No, not scared,” she answered. “It just startled me for a bit. You see, your Grandpa always watched out for me when he was alive. He took care of me then, and I know he’s still watching out for me now.”

            I turned over onto my back. “That’s scary, Grandma.