Imagining Frost

(10) A Chilling Discovery

Grandma had a ridiculously wide smile on her tanned, flushed face, whereas I almost had a major heart attack at her dramatic entrance. She had one of her favorite headbands pulling back her French braided graying hair and sported a ridiculously bold-colored outfit for her age.

"My beautiful Granddaughter is finally here!"

I narrowed my eyes at her for a fraction of a second, menacingly. Somehow, she had always successfully managed to scare me whenever we met. I broke into a smile. "Grammy!" We hugged for what seemed like hours with me trying to shake off the furry animal purring between my feet.

Grandma pulled away, her light grey eyes wide towards her driveway. "What the--bloody hell! What is that strange looking contraption trespassing in my driveway!"

I was still trying to get the cute cat off of me as I tried to look over my shoulder past her pointing finger. I frowned. "It's my car..."

Grandma put a hand to her chest over her brightly knit orange sweater. "Oh heavens, darling. I apologize thoroughly for your Father's poor taste in transportation."

I let out a giggle. My Grandmother loved to pick on my poor Father, who she never fully liked. I wasn't about to say anything about how it was my choice in getting the car in the first place, so I only shrugged.

Her bright grey eyes locked onto mine. They crinkled at the sides as they grazed over my face. "Well, Heather? Come on in! I'll make you some tea. We have much to talk about that I'm afraid we cannot speak of out here."

A sinking feeling began in my stomach. I forced myself away from my Grandma's eyes and looked down at my feet where the cat had locked my feet in their place with its body. "I can't move."

She bent down, shaking her head and patted the cat once on the head. "Mystic, get! Fetch me a fat mouse." As the cat instantly scattered away from my jeans, pouncing into the nearest pristinely cut rose bush.

I heard a change in the distant singing of birds above us. The branches made sounds as if they were fluttering away. My Grandma suddenly paused, lifting her head observantly to the trees.

"Is everything alright?" I questioned, as she tilted her head a little.

Her eyes were dripping with interest, even amusement as she looked to me. "Oh, nothing. I just thought I saw something watching us. Nothing out of the norm, here, darling."

I hesitantly walked inside after her after she said that shocking statement, eying the tall trees above.

* * * *

My Grandma's cabin was spectacularly clean and colorful. Two words she kept close to her heart. Light streamed in from all two stories of the massive cabin, dripping the room with brightness and comfort. Soft carpets lined every room and yellow tiles presented in every bathroom. She had three bedrooms, one a masters, two guest rooms with bright yellow walls that I used to sleep in back and forth over the weekend when I was younger.

She loved to paint, as did I, and so she dedicated an entire room to her art, with three canvases and window sills carrying hundreds of different colors my Grandma mixed herself from her garden and the woods. Her paintings lined the halls of her home. My favorite was of a large tree, that practically reached through the clouds of day. At it's base was a rotted out hole. The strangeness of the tree was that although it's center was hallow, it's canopy was flourishing with large emerald leaves. When I pointed up at the paining as a child, she let me hold it and said it was the tree that had lead her to the mysterious caves of the Gypsies.

Grandma had put on her baking apron and was taking a tray out of the oven. I sat quietly, staring down at the shiny mahogany table. I honestly was beginning to feel growingly awkward about what we would soon be talking about.