Still the Favorite

“Hello,” Tim said into the phone. 

He heard a hoarse whisper say, “Timmy…Timmy...” and the phone went click.

A shiver ran up his spine and after a minute he slowly put the phone back on the wall. 

“Tim, who was it?” Lori asked, as she folded laundry.

“Uh…it was really weird. For a minute I thought…well, it sounded just like my grandmother,” he said, laughing, albeit nervously.

“What?” Lori said, incredulous. “Are you serious?”

“I know it wasn’t her. She’s been dead for months now,” he said, turning to look at his wife. “But…it sure did sound like her. Spooky.”

Lori’s eyes were as big as saucers. “Do you think… it was...you know, supernatural?” she asked. “You were her favorite. If she was going to communicate with anyone it would be you.”

“Lori, don’t be ridiculous,” Tim said, now thoroughly over his shock. “My grandma’s not a phantom who talks on the phone. That’s what we get for watching a “Twilight Zone” marathon. Grandma communicating from beyond... Gees.”

“It was just like that episode,” Lori said. “Remember the one where the phone wires fell on the grave and the man got a direct line to the afterlife and he talked to his…”

“Yeah, sure. Just like that,” he scoffed. “I’ll tell ya what it was. Must have been Miss Charlotte needing the grass cut and she got disconnected. Or…I know! It had to be Mrs. Danielson. She wanted me to come by and fix her garage door. Yeah, I’m sure that was it.” He laughed at himself. “Crazy to think of Grandma. I’ll go fix that garage door.”

He went out his backdoor and headed through the hedges into Mrs. Danielson’s yard. He knocked loudly on her back door and waited. She was very old, a little deaf and couldn’t get around very well anymore, so he knew it would take a while for her to answer. 

Several minutes later however, all was quiet. Could be she was napping. He shrugged and went to the garage. There he found a note addressed to him. He read it and smiled. 

“About time her daughter got around to remembering her mother. Away for the weekend…cool,” he said, then he frowned. So, she wasn’t the tantalizing mystery caller.

He put that thought aside and fixed the door—just needed the chain adjusted—and then he headed across the street.

He knocked on the partly opened door and shouted, “Miss Charlotte? It’s Tim.”

She popped her head around the door and smiled. “Hello, Tim. How are you today?”

“Just fine thanks,” he replied. “Would you like me to mow the lawn for ya?”

“Does it need it so soon? It’s not been raining much,” she said looking passed him to the front yard. "Looks okay to me."

He followed her gaze and had to agree. “No, guess it could wait a few days.”

“Well, I’m glad you stopped by anyway. Got something for you.” She bustled away to her kitchen and returned with a blueberry pie. “Now, it’s still hot, so be careful.”

He grinned. “Wow, so this is why you called. Thanks! I love blueberry.”

She looked bewildered. “Called? I didn’t call you, Dear.”

“Oh,” he said, another shiver running along his spine. “Well, thanks. Let me know when the grass is long enough to cut.”

She waved him off with a kind smile.

“I was just gonna get you. Your mom’s on the phone,” Lori said, handing him the phone. “You should tell her about your grandma calling you.”

He rolled his eyes and chatted with his mother for several minutes having no intention of telling her anything about the call.

“You know what day it is?” his mother said.

“Saturday,” he replied.

“Besides that. It’s the anniversary of grandma’s death. She died a year ago today. Can’t believe it’s been a year already. You were the last one to see her alive. You were her favorite, you know.”

Apparently, he still was.