Family Inheritance by Deborah Leblanc

Author:Deborah Leblanc
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: romance, urban fantasy, thriller, horror, suspense, spirits, paranormal, bayou, supernatural, ebook, dark, nightmares, ghost, louisiana, magical, schizophrenia, hospital, swamps, bayous
Publisher: Deborah LeBlanc

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Eula Mae knew something was different the moment she woke from her nap. Her eyes moved slowly around her bedroom, her heart beating and tripping in anticipation. Everything looked the same. It just didn’t feel the same.

She sat up and listened intently, but all she heard was an occasional bark from a neighbor’s dog.

“Lawd,” she said with a sigh and reached for her glasses and teeth on the TV tray next to the bed.

The rocker across the room began to creak softly. Eula Mae pressed the black horn-rims firmly against the bridge of her nose and watched the wooden chair tip back and forth on its own volition. Looks like company’s comin’, she thought. Better go see who tis.

Groaning, she pulled herself out of bed and headed for the kitchen. She barely gave the rocker a second glance as she passed it, and it creaked louder as though to protest being ostracized.

“Hush up, now,” she said, making a special effort not to look back at the chair. “I heards ya already, and I get to it when I get to it.” She decided to make her point by detouring to the bathroom first.

After freshening up, she went into the kitchen and turned on a small box fan that rested on an egg crate near the stove. She thought about opening the kitchen door so the air could circulate through the house, then remembered there was a sizeable hole in the screen door behind it and changed her mind. It was still early in the day for mosquitoes, but she didn’t want to take any chances.

She walked over to the sink, opened the cupboard above it, and pulled out a teacup and a coffee can with an aluminum foil lid. After placing both items on the counter, she reached over and turned on the water faucet. She waited a few seconds, then flicked her fingertips through the water.

“Needin’ a bit hotter,” she murmured, wiping her fingers across the front of her duster. She pulled the coffee can closer to her and carefully removed the foil. Reaching inside, she gathered a large pinch of coffee grounds with her thumb and middle finger. Her arthritis didn’t care for the maneuver and pinched back. She grimaced but held her fingers tightly together until they were above the cup, then sprinkled the grounds over the porcelain bottom.

The steam rising from the water spigot fogged Eula Mae’s glasses. She turned her head away from the vapors and rubbed the fingers of her right hand, attempting to stretch the ache out of them. Once her glasses cleared, she picked up the cup and placed the lip of it just inside the water stream until she approximated an inch depth. Then she turned off the water.

“Show to Eula Mae what you gots to show,” she said, slowly pulling the cup to her.

As the swirling brew darkened and settled, she swiped the front of her teeth with her tongue. “Lawdy,” she said in disgust. They tasted like they were coated with stale animal crackers.

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