Chapter 3

Grandpa turned and went back inside.

I gently rested against his back, just as I had when I was little. I breathed in the familiar scent of soap that clung to him, not wanting to let go.

I wished the moment could last a little longer.

Grandpa put on his reading glasses and pulled an old box out from under the bed. He opened it carefully.

Inside were three bundles wrapped in scraps of floral fabric.

He unwrapped the first one and took out a savings account passbook.

He smiled faintly.

"This is everything I've saved over the years. Fifty thousand dollars. It's all for Logan. Someday, when he gets married, it'll help him and his wife get started. A young couple needs something to fall back on. This should make life a little easier for them."

He was terminally ill and refused to spend money on his own treatment, yet he planned to leave every cent of his savings to me.

Tears immediately filled my eyes.

So ghosts could cry after all.

He opened the second bundle. Inside was a gleaming gold watch. I had never seen him wear it, but he had polished it until it shone.

Grandpa's eyes grew distant.

"My father gave me this on my wedding day.

"It's the most valuable thing I own. I've always been afraid I might damage it, so I never wore it.

"I just wish I could make it another couple of years. I'd like to put it on Logan's wrist myself when he gets married."

I broke down sobbing. "I'm sorry, Grandpa. I'll never get that chance now."

Finally, he opened the third bundle. Inside was a sheet of paper folded into a neat square.

When he unfolded it, I saw the deed to the old house.

Guilt crept into Grandpa's voice.

"Mitchell is only five, and your parents have already bought him a place in the city.

"I can't afford to do the same for you, but this old house will always be yours. No matter what happens out there, you'll always have somewhere to come home to.

"And when you miss me, come visit my grave on the east side of town and talk to me. I'll be listening."

I couldn't hold back any longer. I rushed toward him, crying out for him to understand.

I was already dead. He needed to spend that money on treatment instead of saving it for me. He needed to stop worrying about me, forget about me, and do everything he could to stay alive.

And yet, my voice never reached him.

I could only stand there and watch as he carefully slid the wooden box back under the bed, still clinging to the hope that one day, he would give it all to me.

That evening, Mom made a large dinner. Grandpa sat at the table but barely ate.

Every few minutes, he glanced toward the door, hope and worry written all over his face.

After watching him for a while, Mom hesitated. "Maybe we should call Logan."

Dad dropped his fork onto the table, his expression darkening.

"Why should we?

"You're all coddling him. I'm his father. I have every right to discipline my own son.

"No one is calling him tonight! He needs to take a hard look at his behavior. We can't keep enabling him."

Grandpa was already in poor health, and Dad's outburst sent him into a violent coughing fit.

Mom quickly rubbed his back until he caught his breath.

Dad turned to Grandpa, his voice stiff.

"Dad, I know you don't want to hear this, but it needs to be said. Logan has no discipline because you've always been too soft on him.

"I put these allowance and check-in rules in place for his own good. He needs to learn how the real world works before he's out there on his own.

"If he wants something, he has to earn it. No one is going to hand him everything he wants.

"You're his grandfather, but constantly giving in to him isn't love. You're only making things harder for him in the long run.

"If he doesn't learn now, the real world will teach him the hard way."

Grandpa was a quiet, decent man from a small farming town. He never raised his voice at anyone, much less argued with his own son.

His lips parted as though he wanted to defend me.

Unfortunately, he had never been good with words. Even after a long silence, nothing came out.

His eyes reddened, and for a moment, he looked as helpless as a child.