ghost in the bungalow: final chapter

By now, I had gotten pretty used to having a few extra "people" in my house. I heard new noises and didn't think twice. I passed the guy on the attic steps and was no longer afraid that he was going to grab me by the ankles as I gingerly stepped past him. We were all working things out...

Then, one dark evening in November, I was out running errands with baby Via. I returned home to our tiny bungalow with my arms full of baby and groceries and bags of various size and weight. As I struggle with my key in the door, I knew - they were here.

When I walked into my dark home that night, it was like walking into a crowded party. I flicked the lights on. No one was there. No bride. No father-in-law. No man from the steps. But still, that feeling of crowding would not leave. I set down my bags and plucked Via from her baby seat. I stood in the middle of my living room floor with all of the lights blazing, and I said, out loud,

OK. If you've got something that you want me to know, tell me now. Please, don't scare me. If you are just here for a visit, well, some of you are going to have to go. It's just too crowded in this tiny house for all of us.

Then, every light in my house flickered on and off one time and the house was peaceful again.

I never saw the bride or the man on the stairs again. We moved to our new home shortly after this event.

The ghosts didn't follow us to our new house, but I still smell Joe's cigarette smoke occasionally. And I know when my grandparents have come for a visit because there is always a distinctive smell - baked chicken and cookies or grapefruit and aftershave.

To be honest, I kind of miss the excitement, but I'm glad to have my house to myself.
And I'm happy to know that I am still be watched over by my family.