The cottage 2

The fire crackled, casting dancing shadows on the walls. Lucia, wrapped in a blanket on the sofa, felt a sense of comfort she hadn't experienced in days. Her wet boots dried by the hearth, and the enticing aroma of cooking wafted from the kitchen.

She licked her lips, drawn to the delicious smells. Suddenly, a footstep broke the silence. Grandma Teresa entered, carrying a bottle of wine and two glasses.

"Do you drink?" she asked, pouring a glass.

Lucia shook her head. "I'm only ten."

Grandma Teresa raised an eyebrow. "Your father had his first drink at twelve. You don't look much like him. Are you sure you're my granddaughter?" she mused, walking towards the hearth.

Dinner was served shortly after, and a hungry Lucia eagerly dug in.

She looked like she had been starved for days," Grandma Teresa observed.

"I received word from your mother about a week before your arrival," Grandma Teresa continued, a scowl crossing her face. "Seeing you here was like seeing Catherine standing in this very room."

Lucia sensed her grandmother's dislike for her mother in her tone.

"It must have been tragic for a small girl like you to watch your mother die on her sick bed," Grandma Teresa said.

Lucia gulped down her food. "What?" she asked innocently.

"Your mother, didn't she die from her illness?" her grandmother inquired.

Lucia was stunned. How could she tell her grandmother about the villagers' accusations of witchcraft? What would she say?

She struggled to find the right words, the food suddenly feeling like air in her throat. She swallowed hard, meeting her grandmother's gaze.

"I-I-I wanted to..." she began.

"I knew about it," Grandma Teresa interrupted. "Catherine had informed me of her illness. I didn't know she would die before the next season. It's a shame. I wanted to see her face."

She sighed, tapping her fingers on the table. "I never wanted my son, your father, to marry your mother in the first place. She was trouble. After they left Portivan, I became a laughingstock in the village. They whispered about my son eloping with a bewitching woman."

Lucia flinched. So, her mother and grandmother had never had a good relationship.

"Grandma Teresa," Lucia asked, her voice trembling, "so you hate Mother and me?"

Grandma Teresa's eyes softened, and she offered a small smile. "Of course not. You have nothing to do with it. You're not Catherine. It's just... bad luck that you look so much like her. We should eat before the food gets cold."

She hurriedly dished more food onto Lucia's plate.

The rest of the meal was quiet, punctuated by occasional glances between Lucia and her grandmother.

...

Lucia followed close behind her grandmother. The house was much larger inside than it appeared from the outside. Lively drawings adorned the walls, and a sculpture graced the entrance hall. Mr. Purrfect, the friendly cat, rubbed against her legs, purring loudly for attention.

She sighed and scooped him up, petting his head.

Grandma Teresa turned to see the cat in Lucia's arms.

They stopped at a door. Grandma Teresa searched for the key among a bunch of others, then turned the knob and gestured for Lucia to enter.

Lucia stepped into the room, her eyes widening. The floors were spotless, and the air was filled with the welcoming scent of roses. She dropped her bag and surveyed the room. This was her father's room. She gazed at the bed, imagining her father sleeping there.

The room was impeccably clean, as if it were dusted daily. Even the window was spotless, the bed neatly made, and a rose in a vase adorned the bedside table.

She turned back to her grandmother, who was now holding the cat.

"I'm so grateful," she said, bowing her head. "This is too much."

"Nonsense," Grandma Teresa replied. "It was mine, your father's, and now it's yours. I'm sure you never slept in such a comfortable bed with your mother."

...

Lucia stepped into the bathroom and found a bathtub filled with clean water. Her eyebrows arched. Did her grandmother know she was coming and prepare all this, or was she imagining things?

She soaked in the warm water, the rose petals swirling around her.

Her hearty laughter filled the room.

From downstairs, Grandma Teresa sighed. It had been a long time since she'd heard a child's laughter.

...

Lucia stepped out of the bathroom, wrapped in a large towel. Her palms and heels were still damp.

Her eyes landed on a set of green nightgowns. They looked like the ones she had seen in a clothing store in town on her way here.

She giggled and walked to the mirror, swirling around in the nightgown. This would be her first decent nightgown.

She smiled, admiring the soft fabric, then quickly slipped into the gown and slippers to head downstairs.

Grandma Teresa sat in the rocking chair knitting intently. She raised her head as she heard Lucia's footsteps on the stairs.

Her brow furrowed. Why wasn't the child sleeping already?

Lucia stood at the bottom of the stairs, offering a smile to her grandmother. Grandma Teresa scoffed, disliking the way the little girl reminded her so much of her mother.

"Shouldn't you be in bed, little girl?" Grandma Teresa asked, setting down her knitting.

"I wanted to say goodnight before going to bed," Lucia replied, sensing her grandmother's displeasure.

Grandma Teresa waved her hand dismissively. "Go to bed. There's no need to say goodnights. Or do you want me to read you a bedtime story?"

Lucia shook her head and turned back to the stairs, her slippers softly pattering against the floor as she hurried up.

Her grandmother sighed, muttering something to herself, and returned to her knitting.

The door clicked shut behind Lucia as she entered her room. Her eyes scanned the room, still unable to believe she finally had a room of her own, and someone to call family.

As long as she didn't talk about the past, everything might be alright.

She lay down in the bed, snuggling under the duvet. Her blue eyes searched the ceiling, pondering many questions. Would she be able to live a comfortable life, maybe go to school like other children, make friends, and visit town? Things she had never been allowed to do with her mother.

Her mother had always given her so many reasons why they couldn't do what the other villagers did.

And making friends had never been an option. They lived far from town, and her mother had kept many strange secrets.

Her eyes drifted to the bag on the table. She now had the opportunity to read the things her mother had written in her diary.

As her eyelids grew heavy, she could feel the calmness of the cottage. The hooting owls, chirping crickets, and rustling trees created a soothing lullaby.

Whistling with the early birds, she washed the dishes carefully.

------------

Two weeks had passed since her arrival, and the winter cold was slowly giving way to warmer weather.

Even after two weeks, Lucia could tell that her grandmother was still uncomfortable around her. Grandma Teresa had accepted her into her home, but there was always a stiffness in her demeanor, and a mischievous glint in her eyes that made Lucia uneasy.

"Lucia!" she heard her grandmother call from outside. She placed the plate in the rack and hurried out, her apron trailing behind her.

"Lucia, darling, can you help me with something?" Grandma Teresa asked, clasping her hands together with a smile.

Lucia's face brightened. Finally, something she could do to help her grandmother.

"Yes, of course, Grandma Teresa," she smiled.

Grandma Teresa dropped a plate of biscuits and reached for Lucia's hands. "Look over there," she said, pointing to the tree next to the fence.

Lucia shielded her eyes and strained to see. Her eyes widened as she saw Mr. Purrfect, the cat, perched precariously on a breaking branch.

She looked back at her grandmother, her heart pounding. How was she supposed to reach him?

"You will help Grandma, right, Lucia?" Grandma Teresa asked with a smirk. Lucia's heart sank. She hadn't seen a tree taller than a dwarf tree in her life. How was she supposed to climb this one?

But she had promised to help. And the sinister glint in her grandmother's eyes told her that this was no ordinary request.

She approached the tree, her stomach churning.

Slowly, painfully, she began to climb the rough bark.

Lucia hesitated, her gaze fixed on the cat clinging to the end of the breaking branch.

She looked down, her throat tightening. A fall from this height could mean months in bed, or worse.

But how did the cat even get up there?

"Bring the cat down already!" Grandma Teresa yelled, her face contorted into a wicked grin. She threatened, "No dinner for you tonight!"

She held up the plate of biscuits, swaying them in the air to lure the cat closer.

Lucia sighed. It was going to be a long night.

"Here kitty, kitty, kitty, come to Grandma," Grandma Teresa called.

Lucia's brows furrowed. She sat up on the branch, ready to swing for the cat as soon as it was distracted.

As she got close to the breaking branch, she reached out her hand, about to grab the cat. But it turned and screeched.

"Lucia!" Grandma Teresa screamed as Lucia slipped from the branch and plummeted to the ground.