Chapter Text
“Good morning Danny! It's nice to see you outside for once.”
“Yeah, y'know, the doctor said something about my vitamin D levels. Told me I should try to get some sunshine, so here I am. Morning coffee by the porch.
You got something for me?”
“Just the usual. Bills and some letters. Anyways, see you tomorrow!”
“See ya Lee.”
—
Usually, a death in the family is not something to look forward to. Nobody wants to say they hope grandma dies soon, or that their doctors should give up on her. But after a year of palliative care and hundreds of health scares and medical bills and “this might be my last week on earth so please come visit me”, it's hard to not feel relieved when it actually happens.
Grandma passed away last week, and her funeral was not very crowded. Just you, a couple of aunties, some friends from her old knitting club, and you: her only grandkid. You had the privilege of organizing her funeral, and choosing a photo for the eulogy. You picked one of the two of you celebrating her birthday a few years back, when she could still leave her house and share a cup of tea with you. You only really started once Grandpa died, and you started to regret not spending more time with him when you could.
After your father died earlier this year, you became her next of kin, and so you inherited her assets. Or what's left of them. Most of her money went to her medical treatments, chemo and pain meds, and the rest to maintaining some property she got from her (other) deceased son. Your father’s only sibling passed away much earlier than either of them, from a brain tumor he refused to treat. You thought of asking if there was a genetic component (it would be nice to know if your life could be cut short at any point in time), but you couldn't bring yourself to imply that his death could be her fault.
Now you got a letter in the mail, reminding you to go check up on the building. A weird office in an abandoned part of town. When you asked grandma why she wouldn't sell it -or at least stop paying to keep the lights on on an empty property- she'd only say “it's not what Mike would have wanted”.
Well, neither of them are here now, so you might as well go check out what's left of “C&A”.