Gran never left the house. Which is why Jacqueline climbed the rickety front porch and batted cobwebs as she made her way towards the front door. While most of the neighborhood was attempting to make cotton look like a realistic web, her grandmother had the real thing. Wind gusted momentarily, and a low branch whined as it swayed. A spider scuttled across a grimy window, and shuddering, Jacqueline used her shoulder to heave the door open. It sprang to life, and she flew over the threshold. Of course, today the door didn’t stick. She sighed and scrambled up off the floor, brushing wildly at her clothes like she was covered in the falling leaves she’d traversed to reach the porch.

“Where are you, Gran?” she asked, inhaling the air that was perfumed with cinnamon and vanilla. 

You’d never know from the outside that inside, the house was in perfect order. With meticulous care, Gran still dusted and mopped weekly. In the kitchen, Jacqueline spotted a tray of snickerdoodles on the gold countertop. Papers lay scattered across the Formica, and curiosity lured her towards them. She tried to put them in order, eyes zooming in on phrases like: not afraid anymore. Engrossed in the task, she jumped when someone cleared their throat.

“Geez, Gran.” Jacqueline offered a quick hug. “What’s this about?”

“It’s time to evict the memories that hold me hostage in this house. I want to attend your wedding.”

“Need a stamp?”

“This was only for my benefit, darling.”