I looked up at my father's blurry form through wet eyes. I scrubbed roughly at my face, then I looked into his eyes.
"Daddy, is it really you? How did you get here?"
He looked at me thoughtfully. "You know what, Chrissy, I really have no idea how I got out here. All I know is that I've been watching you ever since you arrived, and I have to say that you are much more suited for running this house then I am."
I looked at him, stunned. "Do you really believe that?"
Just then, Lettie came up to me looking incredibly flustered.
"Christine, you have to help me! Jamie's driving me insane."
I looked at her without sympathy. Jamie was her former husband whom she had murdered for his estate. She had also convinced him that he was a vampire. That's how he had died, and it apparently hadn't occurred to him that it wasn't true.
"Lettie, what do you want me to do? You hate it when I lecture you about this. You were the one that made him think he was a vampire, and you and Nick did a darn good job from the looks of things. The way the poor man just lies there in his coffin all day screaming for someone to let him out is enough to make anyone feel sympathy. You go and do it because I am done cleaning up your messes for you."
She sighed heavily, and her eyes wondered over to our father and immediately widened.
"What are you doing here, Daddy?"
Our father looked at her with something like distaste.
"Are you still here? I would have thought that your mother would have found someone else to toy around with and curse years ago and taken you with her."
Instead of looking offended, Lettie held her ground.
"No, father. Mother hasn't been anywhere since you left this earth. She sort of became attached to this spot."
Daddy looked at her.
"What do you mean?"
Lettie smiled mysteriously, her frustration over Jamie temporarily forgotten.
"Why don't you come see for yourself?"
We both followed her until we reached the conservatory where my sister's poor former husband made residence. Although I had told her that I wouldn't clean up her messes, his wails had once again filled me with sympathy, and I stayed there while Lettie and my father traveled on.
The conservatory was a vision of black, and although it was dark, it didn't take me long to find Jamie.
His coffin was perched on a table at the end of the room, and as I watched, his creaking and screaming began.
"Let me out! Let me out of here!" over and over again. But that wasn't the only sound. Perched on Jamie's coffin lid was my Auntie Elma's old raven. Aunt Vickie told me that after she'd died, Auntie Elma had possessed the raven so that she could be in the house forever. It was she who warned people in the house away from Jamie's coffin.
"You've disturbed a guest! Now you'll be sorry."
I sighed and shook my head, approaching the upset coffin. When Auntie Elma saw it was only me and not some stranger, she quit her squawking, and flew off somewhere else.
I placed my hands on Jamie's coffin lid and pulled. Old, rusty nails howled in protest as they were pulled away from the wood. When Jamie's coffin was finally open, the man sat up for the first time in awhile and looked around the room. Then, he saw me and his eyebrows knitted in confusion.
"Who are you? I don't think I've ever seen you around here before." His voice sounded wheezy and hoarse from all the shouting he'd been doing."
"I'm Christine. I own the house."
He nodded, pushing back snowy hair from tired blue eyes encased in thick-lensed glasses.
"Well, Christine, could you tell someone to fix the lock on the door? I've been locked in here for days. I have to get back to my plantation. It's almost sugarcane season."
I waited awhile before I spoke.
"I'm sorry Mr. Padgett, but you don't own your plantation anymore. You've been dead for almost a year."
He shook his head at me and laughed slightly.
"What an imagination you have, young lady. I can't be dead. I've never felt better in my life!"
I pointed at his coffin.
"Trust me, it's not my imagination. How do you explain this then?"
His face never changed expression.
"That's easy. I collect old coffins. This is the Wooden Rose model. I've always said I wanted to be buried in one. It's one of the best models there is."
I growled in frustration. Just as I was about to pull a Grandma Mary, Daniel came running in looking panicked.
"Miss Christine, come quick! Felicia's doing one of her spells again."
I sighed. "When will that woman learn that she is not a witch?"
Leaving Jamie, I followed Daniel through the house and to a remote corner of our family cemetery where an old woman with crazy hair stood over a cauldron muttering nonsense to herself. I tapped her on the shoulder and she stopped muttering and turned around so fast that Daniel and I both jumped.
"What business have you to disturb my magical doings?" she asked in a mystical, eerie whisper.
I scoffed.
"What magical doings? You were a bad witch when you were alive and you're an even worse one now."
She looked livid.
"Take that back, dearie, or I am afraid I will have to put the Old Witches' Curse on you!'
I yawned.
"Been there, done that. Now, for the last time, you can't do that spell here, or else the whole house will blow up!"
She smiled and shook her head.
"Not a chance dear. I'm the best there is."
I snorted. "Yeah, the best at getting blown up! You died doing witchcraft if I have to remind you."
She shrugged.
"That was a one time thing."
Since she really wasn't getting the message, I grabbed her book and began to tear the pages out. She screamed curses at me, and after I was finished, threw the remains of the book into her cauldron, satisfied she wouldn't be doing danger to herself and others anymore. Then, Daniel and I went back into the house.
Daddy had returned to the Foyer, and looked as though he had had the wind knocked out of him. I watched him for a few minutes and then, I went into the portrait gallery where Michael had relocated. I walked up beside him and took his hand.
"I just saw Daddy," I told him. "He doesn't look well at all."
Michael nodded. "He looks awful. But I think I know who will make him feel better."
"Who?"
Michael grinned at me. "Your mama."
I gasped. "But Michael, I don't know how I brought Daddy back, let alone how to get Mama back too!"
Michael gazed into my eyes. "What did you tell Leota before your father came back?"
I looked back, uncertain. "I told her that I loved him."
Michael grinned. "Exactly!"
I could only guess what he was getting at.
"But Michael, Mama knows I love her."
Michael was still grinning.
"You don't have to tell her anything. Like you said, she knows you love her, but there's someone else in this house who owes her a little reconfirmation and an apology."
I could feel myself grinning as his words sunk in.
"So I have to get Daddy to apologize to Mama for what he did and have him tell her that he loves her? But where is she?"
"The same place your father was and Grandma is: her picture."
I turned around to look at my mama's picture. I tried to look and see if I could see my Mama's eyes in the painted woman. I looked for a long time, until finally, I saw her eyes. I saw her looking at me, and I knew that what I had once thought was just a picture was much more then that. It was my mama, heart and soul.
I sighed.
"I better go get Daddy. And how is it that you know all this?"
Michael grinned. "Your grandmother told me. You know, you are so lucky to be related to someone like her."
"It seems like you two have become good friends."
He nodded.
"We have. Do you want me to come with you?"
I nodded, taking his hand.
"Yes, I think that would be nice. Oh, and I don't think Melanie's going to have any trouble bringing Jack back. I'm definitely in love with you."
And he said "That's wonderful Peach. You have no idea how long I've been waiting for you to say that."
As we left, I could swear I heard Grandma Mary say "You better be in love with him. I would be if I was forty years younger."
When we got back, my father was looking more despondent then before if that's even possible. I walked to him and looked him right in the eye.
"Daddy, do you miss Mama?"
He was having trouble meeting my eyes.
"Yes I miss your mother. I miss her a lot."
"If you could see her again, what would you say to her?"
Now, he was looking at me.
"I'd tell her that I was sorry for all the pain I caused her, and that I love her as much and more as I did twenty years ago."
I waited a few minutes, and then Daddy suddenly looked up at the sound of a light step in the doorway. When he saw her, he was surprised. He couldn't speak. And even though I thought I would be ready, I wasn't. When I finally looked up, I was crying too. And then she spoke in the sweet, lilting drawl I'd inherited.
"George? Chrissy-Lily? I'm here!"
A/n- there are more chapters to go then expected. Yay!
Aquarian Wolf- Thanks bunches! You know I didn't plan for Mary to be so awesome. I originally wanted her to be more meddlesome and evil, but I guess Madame Leota didn't want to share the spotlight!
Melanie Gracey- Thanks! Here's the next chapter like requested, and I hope you like it. It's much longer then normal, but I really wanted Lillian to show up.
