No thank you

With the passing of her parents, and the residual hangover, Emma feared that "crying into her drink" would be a bit more literal in her case. She shook her head no, and said "I'm thinking I'm going to pass, Uncle Ed."

The older man nodded, and raised his glass to her. "More for me, but the offer stands. Perhaps later tonight?"

Emma pretended to not pick up the subtle hint her uncle was dropping. She gave a noncommittal shrug and said, "Maybe. See you later uncle." As she turned to go, she caught a glimpse of an old oil painting hanging on the wall of the study. It was a picture of the lake house, looking as old as it was now. Outside of the house, there was a small figure standing in the window of what would be Jake's room. The face in the window was small, it's facial features only pin-pricks, but Emma got the uneasy feeling that the person was staring right at her.

The painting had given her enough pause to gain Uncle Ed's attention. He set his glass down and said, "Didn't know she could paint, did you?"

The sentence broke her concentration and Emma looked to her uncle. "What was that?"

"I said I bet that you didn't know that she could paint." Uncle Ed said, then sipped his drink. After a hard swallow, he added, "Maude has a fair bit of talent, no? She made that, way back. Maybe when her father had been ill."

Emma looked back at the painting, admiring it in a new light now that she knew her aunt had been the artist. She took in the subtle detail of each brush stroke and marveled at how good the painting was, especially for being done when Maude was so young. As she appreciated the portrait, she noticed that the small figure in the window seemed to have switched his expression. Emma swore the little person was frowning now.

Her puzzle look got her uncle's attention again. "Don't look too long at it, it'll play tricks with your mind."

Emma stared at the person in the window, feeling uneasy. "Who is that?" She asked, pointing at the picture.

"I suppose that would be your grandfather, Earl. Maude couldn't bare the thought of losing him, so she tried to keep him, in one way, or another. That there is just a small way your aunt tries to keep her father close."

The picture was giving her the creeps now. Emma had enough talk about dead relatives. She mumbled something about how talented Maude was, then slipped away with another quiet goodbye.

Emma mindlessly made her way back towards her temporary room. On the stairs, she noticed they were creaking again, almost louder now. A chill followed her all the way to Jake's room. Behind the closed door, Emma felt a little more relaxed. That picture unnerved her in ways she couldn't explain.

Pushing away thoughts of relatives and spooky paintings, Emma sat on the edge of her cousin's bed and listened to the storm. The raging weather outside had a strange calming effect, and she accepted it eagerly.