《1979' Season of the Crone》 Chapter 1 Chapter 1 ¡°Good day and Good-morning all you beautiful people! Today''s weather calls for clear skies and a high of 64. It¡¯s starting to get cold out there Embury! We are gonna start this Monday Morning Jam-Sesh with a new song out by Electric Light Orchestra called Don''t Bring Me Down!¡± Music began to fill the car and before long Lorelai found herself turning up the music. All the windows of her 1969 Plymouth Roadrunner down caused her mess of red curls to go in every which direction. She had received the car as a sweet sixteen gift from her father nearly 10 years ago. Her mother thought it was an ¡°improper gift for a young girl¡± but she fell in love with it as soon as she was handed the keys. It was a bright orange color and Lorelai would speed wherever she needed to go in the contraption. Today her destination was leading her to the home of her Grandmother, Ingrid Gardner. Ingrid and Lorelai were as thick as thieves nearly their whole life only having distance as an enemy. Lorelai''s family lived out on the west coast, California, while her grandmother fought adamantly to stay on the east coast, even until the very end. Ingrid Gardner had passed away peacefully in her sleep in the middle of the night. When Lorelai got the call from her parents she was devastated, her grandmother wouldn¡¯t be there to see her graduate from college. That¡¯s how she now found herself in Elmbury, New England. At the reading of Ingrid''s will, it was stated that the home that had been in their family for generations was being left, not to Lorelai¡¯s mother but to her. Her Grandmother wanted her there, at her home, the place where they used to make homemade teas and bake cookies. So that is where she would be. The long drive gave her enough time to look back on the memories of her grandmother with a warm and full heart. She only cried 3 times. It had been nearly 5 years since she last visited her grandmother. Ingrid was a warm and rather round woman, known for her kindness around the town. She would often help out whenever she could, making tea for people who were sick, or even just a nice meal and someone to listen to their problems. Often she would beam with pride when they would ask her about her family if only so she had an excuse to ramble on about Lorelai. So it was no surprise to the 26-year-old that she was met with mournful looks as she drove on. Nearly the spitting image of the old woman in her youth it was easy to tell exactly who she was related to. Her round features were framed with warm garnet curls and her grandmother''s brown eyes. Lorelai''s Californa attitude seeped into her clothing choice and radiated off of her like a fire. She was not from Elmbury. Driving she took note of the fashions of the town, everyone in grays and blues, a deep contrast from the warm almost color she was draped in. The town itself was colored gray everything overcast because of the bay, the streets were lined with little storefronts and the only thing that stood out was the rather large corporate building in the distance. Autumn added some pops of color to the town giving it a warm feeling. Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit. Lorelai had slowed to take in the town she would begin to call home. Turning off of the main street she finally reached her grandmother''s road, Highland Street. Only four houses down and her 48-hour road trip would have come to an end. A small hazelwood house with red shutters sat on a patch of dying grass, dead bushes lined the cracked walkway. A screened-in front porch held a mass of hanging brown dehydrated plants of all kinds. It was clear that no one was looking after the house in the year it took her to finish college. With a little elbow grease, she could get it back to the warm house from her youth that she remembered. Standing on the grass smoking an officer stood on the lawn twirling a set of keys in his fingers. His cigarette mixed with the fog that lay heavy throughout the town. Pulling into the driveway and killing the engine Lorelai exited her baby. Slamming the door closed Lorelai raised an eyebrow at the stranger. ¡°I thought Sheriff Overtone was going to be meeting me. You are defiantly not him.¡± She flashed him a smile walking over to the middle-aged man. His glasses hung off his pointed nose as he nodded and remind unfazed. ¡°Mitch Overtone retired 3 years ago.¡± He flicked his cigarette on the grass. Not taking note of the harsher look growing on Lorelai''s face. ¡°I''m the new Sheriff Shepard Knox. I have Ingrid''s keys right here for you, wanted to extend a Welcome from the town to you.¡± ¡°Well I appreciate that, but I''ve visited here all my life I''m no stranger to the town. Now If you''ll excuse me, I would love to have the keys so I can get settled.¡± Ignoring her almost completely he tilted his head he looked between her car and then back at her. ¡°Is that your father''s car? I would love to have something like that to put my free time to.¡± Knox¡¯s stiff face stretched into something almost like a smile. ¡°Nope, she''s all mine and has been for ten years. I would really like my keys please, I¡¯ve had a long drive.¡± With a sigh and a simple nod, Knox tossed the keys ¡°Just trying to make small talk.¡± Beginning to walk away Lorelai held the keys in her hands running her fingers over the stained glass keychain. ¡°Oh and Sheriff?¡± Her voice carried down the street. Knox turned around to look back at Lorelai with a raised eyebrow. ¡°Don''t throw your smokes on my lawn.¡± The smile had left her face completely. With an embarrassed nod, he walked off to his cruiser. As he got into the car Lorelai laughed to herself as he sped off. ¡°I liked Overtone better. At least he would have watered the plants.¡± Marching over to the car she started to unload all the bags that were haphazardly thrown into the back seat. There were only four bags of medium size that held the contents of Lorelai''s life. Taking what she could carry and bracing herself for the memories that would come flooding in with the simple opening of a door. It wasn''t a flood it was a tsunami from the moment she opened the door, the smell of sage and other herbs wafted out the door. Swinging it fully open it was exactly as she remembered, except covered in a thick layer of dust. Everything made her remember Ingrid, and she couldn''t help but smile knowing she was finally where she was supposed to be. Chapter 2 Many things are needed to make up a home. They differ greatly from the things that make up a house. With a simple house, all you need is a touch of style and the ability to settle. In a home however you need something more than style, you need ghosts. Memories that fill the walls and seep out from beyond the wallpaper. The whispers that crypt up through the linoleum could drastically change the feeling of any place a person decided to stay. Lorelai could feel everything that had ever haunted the home and she was ecstatic. Under all of the dead foliage and dust was truly the home she longed for more time in. The living room was warm and inviting a rust couch sat up against a wood-paneled wall. The mahogany leather was placed in the corner of the room lovingly. The sand-colored shag carpet reached everywhere but the kitchen which was complete with bright yellow cabinets and a lime green fridge. God was it good to be home. Once Lorelai could put her bags down her mission to clean would begin, she knew if her grandmother were alive to see the house in such a state there would be absolute hell to pay. Now while it was a smaller than average home it still had layers. The cellar held all the dried herbs and flowers Ingrid would use for her teas and soups. The main floor held the living room and kitchen. Then upstairs was the bedroom and bathroom, a simple layout. Lorelai let out a groan when she realized she would also have to clean the cellar, never being allowed to step a single pinky toe through the doorway the small girl developed a phobia of the room. Gathering the strength for at least a solid week of cleaning Lorelai walked over to the yellow plastic phone hanging on the wall. It was time to be responsible. Dialing the most recent number she had committed to her memory Lorelai twirled the wire around her polished red fingernail. ¡°Sempre Enterprise, home of Oil of Sempre, how may I direct your call?¡± the lady on the phone seemed almost happy to be at work, which Lorelai took as a good sign considering she had already agreed to take the executive assistant positions she was offered. ¡°Hello yes, this is Lorelai Gardner calling for a Miss Banks?¡± ¡°Please hold.¡± A firm click gave way to some soft jazz as Lorelai tapped her feet. Then before long, a satin-like voice spoke. ¡°Miss Banks speaking, is this Lorelai Gardner?¡± Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. ¡°Yes this is she, I just wanted to inform you I have relocated to the area and will be ready to start at my position within a week.¡± ¡°That is wonderful to hear, and I hope your relocation is going splendidly. Now I expect you to start next Tuesday morning, I¡¯ll need your help with the preparations for the quarterly sales meeting.¡± ¡°That sounds more than appropriate Miss Banks, I have already faxed those spreadsheets to the office before the move, and I will get the binders together first thing Tuesday morning.¡± ¡°Please call me Cecilia, so formal. Think of yourself as a paid friend.¡± A deeply feminine laugh filled the phone. Lorelai swore if she inhaled any harder she could smell the cigarettes and coffee that radiated off the woman. ¡°I lo-...¡± Cecilia Banks had hung up the line determining the end of the conversation, just as Lorelai was going to thank her for the job. Hanging the phone up with a heavy hand it was time to turn to the task at hand, pumping some life back into this tiled kitchen floor. She could always count on her gran to have a closet full of cleaning supplies, so when she opened the kitchen closet the feeling of relief was more than welcome. It was nearly fully stocked with a few brooms and an unopened mop. Touching the mop Lorelai¡¯s confusion grew. With closer inspection of the colorful bottles, none of the seals were broken. Everything appeared full and unused. Who left all the new bottles and supplies if no one maintained the house? Ripping the plastic off the mop and throwing the bucket in the sink Lorelai rolled up her sleeves. Near boiling, water and soap began to fill the container, and a thick white foam began to form a mass in the sink as she turned up the tunes on the radio above the sink. If only she hadn''t been mindlessly scrubbing the tiles. Maybe then she would have been paying attention to the window which had filled with steam. While the mess of red curls twirled to the rhythm of Brandy by Looking Glass she was mindless to the slow writing forming on the wall. One drippy letter after another, first an S then a T, the invisible finger trailed on against the glass, A followed after and droplets of water from steak mimicked tears. I, then R followed by one final S. The message seemed to be forced out with great discomfort. STAIRS. Lorelai walked out of the kitchen to let the floor dry and the message fade.