My wife and I just moved into my Grandad's old house

My wife Emily and I got married a couple of months ago. It was a quaint ceremony at my grandad's house. Emily loved the place from her first visit. It's down a gravel road with a few acres of trees and a white picket fence. Grandad built it with his own two hands.
The roses my mom drove out to prune every other weekend bloomed in profusion the day of the ceremony. Emily had to tuck some into her hair. Then we put the florist out by asking her to add the roses last minute to the centerpieces.
I've never seen Em look as beautiful as she did that day with my Grandma Muriel's roses in her hair. The wedding went smoothly and before long we were off on our honeymoon. Not going into detail here but we had a great time.
The biggest surprise of our new marriage actually came after we got home. My dad popped by our apartment on a random Tuesday.
"We forgot to give you one of your wedding gifts." he told Emily as he handed her an envelope. I leaned over her shoulder as she opened it. The creased paper inside was the deed to my grandparent's house.
"Dad wanted the two of you to have the place. It needs some work, but he knows he's not going to be coming out of the nursing home. And -" my father smiled at Emily. "How much you like the place."
Emily hugged the papers, hugged my dad, and finally hugged and kissed me. I thought she might dislocate her jaw her grin was so big. She danced around our little apartment for days afterwards and even started going with my mom to learn how to take care of the roses.
Dad was right, by the way, there was a lot that needed to be fixed or updated. It took all the money we had saved to buy our own place plus some and we're still working on it.
But we did finally get moved in. A few days ago I surprised Em by mowing the whole fenced portion of the yard and building one of those stand alone swinging benches so we could enjoy it. We were sitting outside eating pizza, drinking cheap wine, and enjoying each other's company when she brought up kids.
"Can't you just see a playground fort over between those trees, babe?" she gestured about half way down the yard between two old maple trees. The dim light from inside the house flashed on her wedding set. The flicker of light drew my attention to her fingers. Slim and graceful as the rest of her. I'm really a lucky guy.
I caught her hand and held it tightly, pulling her around to look at me. I was surprised she'd mentioned kids. We had agreed some time ago we weren't ready.
"There's so much room here." Emily went on, smiling at me in the dim light. I really didn't want to say yes, but I didn't want to start a fight either.
"How about a puppy to start?" I joked, trying to keep the silence from becoming even more awkward. Emily giggled, covering her mouth and nose when she snorted.
"You looked like a fish for a minute there." my loving wife wrinkled her nose, still grinning. "Alright a puppy might be ok. And a garden. I definitely want a garden."
"Grandma had one, I think it's a cool idea."
I settled into bed with Em afterwards, glad the issue of kids wasn't going to come up again soon.
That Saturday I drove into town to visit my Grandad in the nursing home. He hadn't been out to the house since the wedding. He and Emily had spun his wheelchair around and around on the dance floor. They'd laughed together so much. I hadn't even sat down before I regretted not bringing her.
Still it was good to sit and chat with him, about my job, my parents, and his ongoing fling with Gertrude down hall. It was always a surprise to hear about her but I was glad he had someone to flirt with over bingo and creamed corn.
Finally, the conversation turned to how Emily and I were doing, and of course, the house. I told him about the changes we'd made and the ones we hadn't.
"So you told her I made the cabinets and she wouldn't take them out?" his tall bent, body straightened out as he chuckled.
"Yep. We're sanding and restaining them tomorrow." something clicked in my mind.
"Oh right! Where was Grandma Muriel's garden? Emily wants to start one and I thought that would be the best spot."
I pulled up a picture of the yard on my phone. Grandad snorted at me .
"Go get me a pencil and paper, kiddo. I can't do anything with that."
I hunted around in his dusty desk, smiling at a framed black and white photo of Grandma and my dad as a kid. Like me he'd been an only child. It didn't take long to find a pad and pen sporting the nursing home logo.
He sketched out the yard with shaking fingers, tapping the pen on some rough ovals.
"The trees."
A square.
"That deck your father installed."
And a rough square in the back.
"That's where your Grandma liked to have her garden. Far enough away from the house to keep the little ones out of it."
"Perfect. I'll show her. Thanks, Grandad."
I didn't stay much longer. Gertrude showed up for pudding time and I made my excuses. There are just things about my Grandad I don't need to know.
A new pet store had opened along my route home. On impulse I swung in. Emily loved surprises. I figured a cute fluffball would make convincing her to plant her garden where my grandmother's had been easier.
And keep her mind off the idea of kids.
So I swung into the pet store and looked at the dogs. Rottweilers, Pit Bulls, Shiba Inus, Pomerians. I stared at them for a while and then looked up "dogs that don't dig" on my phone According to the internet dogs exist to dig.
That meant Dachshund was out and the bright eyed Husky too. But snoozing in an upper compartment was a double handful of fluff that Emily would love.
I hunted down a salesperson and twenty minutes later I tucked a cardboard carrier and a kitten-starter kit into the passenger's side of the car.
I spent most of my drive home scratching the kitten in her carrier and feeling like the best husband ever. My wife would be so delighted by her new little friend. I grinned right up until I pulled into the drive and saw Emily kneeling in a small staked out square by the deck. Her gardening tools were scattered around.
Em had laid her spade aside and was holding something in her hands. The bottom dropped out of my stomach.
I had to force myself to get casually out of the car, leaving the door open for the little cat in her carrier. I didn't want her to get too hot.
"Emily?"
She walked towards me with what looked like a bundle of rotting fabric. Her face was pale but my shoulders unknotted. I could see the hand tatted lace my grandmother loved to make through a rip in the sack.
"Oh. You found one of my aunts." I looked at the lace - the loose weave I remembered from childhood, instead of the artistry of Grandma's youth. "Or probably one of my sisters."
I smiled at her as the kitten started crying from the car.


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