Ghosts we leave behind

chapter 1; house rules

People grieve in different ways but according to Kübler-Ross, the last stage of grief is acceptance. Eleanor Miller had over four months to reach this stage but she was nowhere close. In fact, she was still stubbornly in denial over her husband's death.

She lived in the same house she had shared with her husband for over forty years. Things had changed, of course. Her side of the bed became slightly more dipped than Henry's. Details that once contributed to its beauty now became ugly things. 

The garden wasn't tidy anymore; The flowers and herbs she planted once were now overgrown, tangling into unsightly crowding bushes. Towering over the garden, the trees no longer provided shade. Their thin and bony branches carried tall shadows. The weather was almost, always dreary in Dorset. Having the luxury to live near the beautiful deep waters of the English channel had to come at a price.

Approaching her grandmother's house, Nora couldn't help but grimace at the sight of dirt that had collected on the outdoor chairs. It was clear to her that they hadn't been used in a while.

She rang the door bell twice and waited for Eleanor. Her finger hovered over the button as she listened carefully for any noise from the other side of the door.

Black crows were perched on tree branches and one floated in half a circle before settling on the roof above Nora's head. She looked up as it squawked raucously. Nora waved at it but the bird's stoic gaze quickly turned into unfriendly. She turned her attention back to the door while the crow continued to study her closely.

Eleanor opened the door hurriedly, releasing a startling sound from the doorframe, partially becoming stuck. With a strong tug, the door opened wide. Her hair had changed drastically since the funeral, Nora thought. Her once perfectly dyed auburn hair was now completely white and grey, tied back into a loose bun. She wore a badly fitted blue sleeveless sweater over a knee length dress.

"Hi grandma," Nora smiled warmly, embracing her in a hug.

Eleanor hugged her back, slowly. Her arms were weak and Nora felt her heart sink as she realised just how frail she had become. Concerns of her eating habits rung in her head as she patted her back lightly.

"Nora," Eleanor greeted, touching her soft red hair longingly.

"How are you?" she asked, withdrawing from the hug.

"I'm okay," she mumbled, looking behind her at the two suitcases she'd brought with her. She then looked at Nora, questioningly.

"Ben's flight is at the end of the month, remember? He'll join us then."

Eleanor nodded and gave Nora space to bring her things inside. Closing the door behind her, she pulled her suitcases down the hall and left them by the stairs. She rolled her gloves off and watched Eleanor walk into the kitchen.

The house was compact with two bedrooms and a single bathroom upstairs. The living room downstairs was average looking, with a leather one seater that nobody sat on anymore. It had been her grandfather's favourite place to sit and after he left, it was too sacred for anyone else to use.  The spacious kitchen somehow always appeared small. Perhaps it was the crowded table at the back or the amount of clutter on the counter top.

Nora entered the kitchen to see that she had begun to prepare a tray of food for her.

"Oh Nan, you don't have to," she shook her head.

"Nonsense," she dismissed. "You must be starving. I- I didn't have time to make much but-"

"It's fine, nan," Nora said, taking her by the arm gently and leading her out of the kitchen.

"I'll get us something to eat, just sit down in the living room," she told her before returning to the kitchen.

She found some cucumber sandwiches stacked in the fridge and a scarce amount of orange juice left. This made her stop and compose herself. The fear of Eleanor not eating well seemed to become a fact.