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Part I
1
Savannah
Present
The long life of Meredith Christianson was over.
I just called her Gran.
And she was still gone.
No more phone calls. No more visits. No more Gran. She wouldn’t make fun of my driving or roll her eyes when I back-talked or be my forever cheerleader on my way to success. She wouldn’t be anything because she’d died.
I was still in black from the funeral. A knee-length lace dress that my best friend, Lila, had pulled out of her closet for me. She’d known before I did that I’d need the help today. She’d practically been raised by Gran too.
“Mars,” my twin, Maddox, said with a wash of sadness as we stood before Gran’s empty house.
I closed my eyes to fight back the tears. “I’m not ready.”
“I can wait.”
Maddox knew as well as anyone how hard this was. We’d been dropped off on this stoop at the age of two and never left. I didn’t remember anything before the old Victorian home with light-blue siding and a wraparound porch with peeling white paint. The Spanish moss–covered oak in the front that we’d climbed on as children. The smell of Gran’s cooking in the kitchen—her famous biscuits and gravy, fried chicken, and cornbread. I’d do anything for her biscuits right about now. To see her wrinkled face pinch with consternation at my insufferable mouth.
“You don’t have to,” I told him.
Maddox had been inside the house since Gran had passed. He still lived in Savannah. He’d been the first one to get the call from the caretaker we’d hired so that Gran didn’t have to leave the house she loved. The house she’d lived and died in. The house that now belonged to us, clean and clear. It was worth a fortune at this point since Gran and Gramps had owned it for generations. Not that we ever had any intention of getting rid of it. Other than my memories, the house was all I had left of Gran.
I squeezed my eyes against the pain. Gran was gone. She was gone. Okay. That was how it was. She’d been going for years anyway. But now that it was here, it felt more surreal than I’d ever imagined. Final.
Maddox wrapped an arm around my shoulders. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. We had that twin thing where we knew what the other was thinking. It had always been like that.
He pressed a kiss to my temple. “Take your time. You can come inside whenever you’re ready. We don’t have to make any decisions today.”
I nodded and watched him head up the front stone path to the house. He was gone inside a minute later. I swallowed back tears. I’d cried enough of them to last a lifetime. My eyes were still red and puffy from the funeral.
It hadn’t helped that my mom and aunt had shown up. I’d expected Aunt Ruth, who lived in Savannah even if I hadn’t seen her in at least a decade. But my mom…
My teeth ground together. She shouldn’t have been there at all. She didn’t deserve to mourn the woman she’d all but sent to her grave. The last argument they’d had, the one I’d been there for, I’d wanted to strangle her. It wasn’t enough that she’d been a shit mom, abandoning me and Maddox at the age of two to be taken care of by Gran, but she had to continually make everyone’s life worse by her sheer existence.
I didn’t want to think about her. I never did. How Gran had afforded her sympathy and compassion year after year, day after day, was beyond my comprehension. At least I’d gotten the last laugh when I found out Gran had given us the house and not her own children.
My hand hovered on the gate. It was just a house. It wasn’t haunted or anything. Despite everything else in Savannah seemingly being haunted. Gran had lived a long, long life. She’d passed with peace in her heart, knowing she’d done the best she could with her circumstances. But it didn’t make it any easier to step over the threshold. I’d been avoiding it all weekend after driving in from Atlanta with Lila, where I worked as a professor at Emory. She’d graciously let me stay with her mom down the street. Deb always had warm hugs and an open heart. I was grateful for her this weekend, but now, I finally had to face the empty house.
With a deep breath, I stepped into the yard. I kept my focus forward as I mounted the small stoop, reaching the iconic bright yellow door. I twisted the worn silver knob in my hand. The hinges gave with a slight creak as I crossed over onto the original hardwood floor. Everything was precisely where it had always been. The floral couch against the far wall. A color-coordinated pink and brown set of chairs on either side of it. Gramps’ brown leather recliner tucked in the corner. The rug was a threadbare multicolored thing that Gran had always taken special care of since it had belonged to her mom. The TV was way past outdated and veering toward an antique. She’d never cared for new, fandangle things. Though she secretly watched soaps on the nicer TV in her bedroom. I’d crawl into bed with her to find out what Stefano was doing to Marlena.
