Christmas Ghost Story by Nick DiMartino

Author:Nick DiMartino
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Epicenter Press Inc.
Published: 2023-02-15T00:00:00+00:00

37 | Guilty

Uncle Tony surprised her by giving her a tour just as grand. A tour of the past. With each room that she showed him, he supplied remembered stories and details to give her a glimpse into another room that was no longer there.

“This is Aaron’s study.”

“So, I see. This used to be Grandpa’s bedroom, when he was a kid. Then your Dad and I used to sleep here, whenever the two of us spent the night at Nana’s.”

She continued to the next doorway. “This is our bedroom.”

“It was Nana’s bedroom, too. Oh, my God. That picture.” A huge, framed wedding portrait of a handsome young Italian couple, Orsola and Niccolò Rossi, hung over the four-poster bed. “That incredible picture. Where’d you get it?”

“From Grandpa.”

“It’s so good to see it again.” He choked on his words. “Don’t mind me. Really. Stuff about Nana always makes me emotional. Her love was so strong, Gina. She loved me more than any human being alive ever has.”

“I only wish I could have known her better,” said Gina. She waited for him to swipe at his wet eyes with the back of his knuckles. She took her uncle’s hand and led him down the hall and around the corner.

Uncle Tony stopped abruptly.

“Wait, I remember now,” he said. “This door leads to the stairs that go up to the second floor.”

“You know this house better than I do.”

“Oh, I remember those stairs. We used to play up on the second floor with our cousins. Scary games in the dark. I didn’t like it upstairs. I used to get too scared. There are two halls, right? The east hall and the west hall. Three rooms on this side, three rooms on that side.”

“Same number I came up with, the last time I counted,” said Gina. “Want to take a peek?” She opened the door a little wider, and her uncle poked his head cautiously over her shoulder. “Go on. No one’s going to bite you.”

He laughed and backed nervously away. “No, thanks. I used to get too scared up there as a kid. Bad memories. Some other time.”

Not until Uncle Tony had a chance to wash his face and freshen up in the bathroom, not until they were both laughing and comfortable in the breakfast nook, poking at the crumbs of the remaining peach cobbler and sipping at steaming mugs of coffee, did Gina finally ask her uncle the question she hadn’t dared to ask.

“Why did you disappear, Uncle Tony?”

He paused, his mug midway to his lips. “You mean, you don’t know? My brother hasn’t told you?”

“Dad said you two had a disagreement. That’s all he’d ever say. You know Dad.”

“They never told you about me, huh? Not even your mother or Barbara?”

“Mom didn’t talk about the Rossi family,” said Gina. “And you know Barbara. She’s a Dad-supporter, one hundred percent. What didn’t they tell me, Uncle Tony?”

There had always been a mysterious strain and hesitation whenever her adult relatives talked about her uncle. Their

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