“I asked him not to tell you yet.”
“And you really thought I wouldn’t?”
Grandpa outlined a tired smile.
“No. I guess not.”
I stood behindbedroom door.
Instead, he let it go.
Then he opened the door of a small room in the back of the house that had been locked since I can remember.
I stopped.
Inside there were two separate narrow beds.
One
Large telescope was next to the window.
On a wooden table were dozens of old photographs, letters, a video camera and a thick photo album.
There was also a small suitcase.
I looked at Grandpa.
“What is all this?”
He sat slowly.
Dad stayed near the door.
Neither of us seemed willing to speak first.
Finally, Grandpa pointed to the album.
“Open it.”
The first photograph showed a young woman of my age approximately.
For a second, I thought it was me.
The same dark hair.there.”
My exact age.
I turned the page.
There were photographs of Grandma and Grandpa sitting on a porch.
Another one of them next to an old car.
Another image showed the grandmother asleep in one
