Short Story Collection

Grandma’s Lake House

…one of life’s greatest blessings is a grandmother….

Andi woke with a start, heart pounding.

Disoriented, she lay there a moment trying to calm her breathing. The dream was already receding and trying to grasp at its wisps and edges left her waking unsettled and a little fearful.

She had just been fired two days ago, and after throwing a few clothes in a duffle bag, left to find a quiet place to lick her wounds and regroup. Her grandmother’s lake house was still empty and was just the peace and quiet she needed. Grandma Dee had passed away a few years ago and had left the house to Andi, but she hadn’t been back since the funeral.

“Hello! Is anyone home?” the pounding on the door brought her upright on the couch. The dream and the knocking blended into a single event now and Andi threw back her grandmother’s faded afghan to struggle to the door.

Shielding her eyes against the bright morning sun, Andi blinked and saw the FedEx truck already speeding away at the end of the lane. Her pulse slowing finally, she turned back to go inside, and then saw the package on the edge of the porch swing.

“That’s odd,” she mumbled to herself, reaching for the box. No one had been living in the house for the past five years and she’d only arrived two days ago herself. “It must be a mistake. The FedEx has delivered to the wrong address.” She spoke to the box as if it could hear her. No reply.

“Stranger and stranger,” she continued with her one-sided conversation as she remarked that the brown standard shipping box was, in fact, addressed to her. Andi Rowland, 2642 N. Mill Lake Drive. No return address. Nothing moved in the box as she jiggled it up and down. It felt empty.

“Let’s go over the facts,” she ticked them off on her fingers as she opened the package. A. she hadn’t ordered anything. Second, no one knew that she’d come here. And C, the house didn’t even look like anyone was living in it. She’d made sure of that when she parked her truck round back.

Inside the box was a white envelope taped to the bottom. For Andi, said the instruction in spidery handwriting. Tearing open the envelope, a business card dropped out. Ignoring it, she stared at the check made out to her, in the amount of $100,000, from the Law Firm of Brown & McAlester. Realizing there was another sheet of paper, Andi opened it to find a letter dated ten years before.

Dear Andi, it said in the ancient handwriting she recognized as belonging to her grandmother, I so hoped that you’d return one day. You and I had so many happy memories here. I know you’re out making a life for yourself, but one day, I hope you’ll find this place as comforting and soul-filling as I always have. It gives me joy to hope that one day you’ll live in this home once again and make more happy memories of your own. If you can’t live here right now, then please use this money to take care of the place. If you decide to stay, please talk to the attorneys about the rest of my will. They were instructed to only give the information to you once they knew you were in the area. They’re expecting you.

Andi blinked back the tears. Grandma Dee had always known when she was feeling sad, or needed a hug. And even though she was gone, her thoughtfulness in planning how best to take care of her only granddaughter was as comforting as if she were standing here, placing her afghan over Andi’s shoulders and assuring her that here at the lake house everything was going to be just fine. With a sigh and a sad smile, Andi reached for the phone.