Ancient Inheritance. Rita Vetere

      Catherine pushed the peas around on her plate during Sunday lunch. The baked ham Evangeline had prepared and that Catherine normally loved, remained untouched.

      “What’s wrong, sweetheart, not hungry?” Alan asked.

      She didn’t answer and didn’t look up. Then she heard Evangeline ask, “Is it because of what the priest spoke about in church this morning?”

      “Yes,” she said, her voice sounding very small.

      “What am I missing here?” asked Alan. “What did the priest talk about?”

      “It’s Mother’s Day today,” said Evangeline, when Catherine didn’t answer.

      Catherine looked up at him with a speculative look. “How come you never talk about when Mommy and Nanna died, Granddad? I mean, I know it was a car accident and all, but you hardly ever talk about them. Sometimes I feel like you don’t even care that they’re gone.”

      “Don’t say that, Cat. It isn’t true.” Catherine noticed how his face changed, the way it always did every time the subject came up.

      When he didn’t say anything more, she pushed on. “I look at the pictures upstairs all the time. I try to think of how it must have been before, but I can’t. I can’t even remember my own mom. Why did they have to die?” She slouched down in her seat, dejected, and continued to push the food around on her plate.

      “Cat. Look at me.”

      She couldn’t. She loved Granddad more than anyone, but every time she brought up the subject of her mom or Nanna, he would get all weird and stop talking. It was tough not having a mom. Didn’t he know that?

      “I loved your mother and Nanna, Cat. More than anyone in the world, except for you. But it’s hard for me to talk about it. It hurts too much when I remember.”

      When she said nothing more, Granddad left the table abruptly and went outside.

      “I knew he wouldn’t tell me,” she said to Evangeline.

      “Your grandfather loves you, petite l’une. Life has not always been kind to either of you, but you do have each other. And me as well.”

      “Do you know how the accident happened, Evangeline? Granddad told me I was in the car with them, but I don’t remember. How come I didn’t get hurt?”

      “I guess your guardian angel was looking out for you that day,” came a subdued voice from the doorway. Catherine had not heard Granddad come back in.

      “Your momma and grandmother loved you, Cat. I know it’s hard for you, not remembering them. But there’s no point in dwelling on how they died. I would do anything to have them back again, but wishing won’t make it so.”

      Cat could see how shiny Granddad’s eyes had become and felt badly for him. The last thing she wanted was to cause him pain. He’d been her everything for as far back as she could remember. Instead of pressing the issue, she got up from her chair and hugged him.

      “Can I go upstairs now, Granddad? I’m really not that hungry.”

      He nodded, kissing the top of her head.

      Upstairs in her bedroom, lace curtains fluttered in the breeze at the open windows and dust motes danced in the early afternoon sunlight. Cat crossed the wide-planked floor and reached up to take the framed photos from her bookshelf. After staring at them for a while, she carried them back to her large canopied bed. For the next few hours, she entered her imaginary world, a place where her family was together and happy.