Good Ol' days.

My

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Mr. Ernest sat in his worn-out, wooden rocking chair, gently swaying back and forth as he gazed out at the vast land in front of him. It was near sunset, and it was a daily routine for him to watch the day turn to dusk from his sitting room window. As he looked through the tall frame, his eyes, clouded with the mist of age, seemed to be staring into the very soul of the past. The warm sunlight beaming through the window panes cast a golden glow on his wrinkled face, illuminating the deep lines engraved by time and experience.

"Ah, the good old days," Ernest sighed, his voice barely above a whisper. "When life was simple, and love was true."

Nathan, his 13 years grandson, sat beside him, listening with rapt attention as Ernest began to spin his tale of yesteryear.

"You know, Nathan, I grew up in a small town, surrounded by gentle slopes and green pastures. It was a small town where everyone knew everyone, and we all looked out for each other."

As Ernest spoke, his eyes sparkled with a distant look, and his voice took on a wistful tone.

"I remember walking to school with my friends, laughing and cracking jokes, without a care in the world. We'd play in the woods, climb trees, and chase after birds. We'd even dance in the rain, despite our parents' warnings that it would make us sick."

Ernest sighed as he muttered, "Life was so innocent, so pure and peaceful."

By now, Nathan's imagination was running wild with the vivid image his grandfather painted. His eyes were wide with wonder, and he wanted his ears to be filled with more stories from the past. Ernest's stories fascinated him a lot, and that was the number one reason he always looked forward to holidays, since his parents were both career driven and barely ever around to share bonding moments with him.

"What about your childhood home, Grandpa?" Nathan questioned, his curiosity piqued.

Ernest's face softened. It was a delight that the boy wanted to hear some more, much to Ernest's delight. With a gentle smile spreading across his lips, he continued his narration.

"Ah, our old homestead. It was a beautiful place, surrounded by a white picket fence and a garden full of lilies. My mother would spend hours tending to those flowers, making sure they were the most beautiful and attractive in the neighborhood."

As he spoke, his voice cracked with emotion, and gradually, his eyes welled up with tears.

"I remember the smell of freshly cut grass, the taste of my mother's cooking, and the sound of my father's laughter. It was a magical place, Nathan, one filled with joy, love, and warmth."

Suddenly, Ernest's gaze drifted back to the present, his eyes now fixated on Nathan's concerned face as he wiped off his tears.

"Apologies, Nathan. I get lost in the past sometimes. It's just that nostalgia has a way of creeping up on you when you least expect it."

Nathan took his grandfather's hand, his touch tender and comforting.

"It's okay, Grandpa. I love hearing your stories. They make me feel like I'm a part of something bigger than myself."

The old man's face lit up again with a warm smile, this time, his eyes shining with gratitude.

"Thank you, Nathan. That means more to me than you'll ever know."

As the sun began to set, casting a golden glow over the room, Ernest's eyelids grew weighty, his breathing slowing. Nathan sat beside him, holding his hand, as the past and present combined into a gentle slumber. And as he dreamt, sitting still in his rocking chair, Nathan excused himself to the kitchen to see what was for dinner.

---

Entering the kitchen, Nathan was greeted by the warm smile on his grandmother's face, Julie. She was busy preparing dinner, her hands moving deftly as she chopped vegetables and stirred the pot, sniffing for aroma.

"Hey, sweetie, how's Grandpa doing?" she asked, her eyes sparkling with concern.

Nathan took a seat at the kitchen stool, watching as his grandmother worked her culinary magic. "He's doing okay, Grandma. He was just narrating to me stories about his childhood."

Julie chuckled, her eyes sparked with excitement. "Ah, yes. He loves telling those stories, doesn't he?" She chuckled some more while adding the chopped vegetables to the boiling pot.

Nathan nodded, smiling from ear to ear. "Yeah, Grandma. He's got so many great stories. I could listen to him all day with getting bored."

"I know exactly what you mean, sweetie. Your grandfather has always had a way of spinning a tale that transports you to another time and place."

As she spoke, Julie's gaze drifted over to a small, framed photograph on the kitchen counter. It was an old black-and-white picture of Ernest a on their wedding day, beaming with happiness as they gazed into each other's eyes.

Nathan followed her gaze, a curious expression on his face. "Grandma, what's that?"

Julie's eyes misted over as she picked up the photograph, her fingers tracing the edges of the frame. "This is a picture of your grandfather and me on our wedding day. It was taken over 50 years ago."

Nathan's eyes widened in amazement. "Wow, Grandma you both look so lovely and happy too if I might add."

Julie smiled, her eye with tears. "We were, sweetie. We were so in love, and we knew that we were meant to spend the rest of our lives together."

As she spoke, Ernest's voice sounded from the living room, his words slurred with sleep. "Julie.. Julie is that you?" Julie's face lit up with a warm smile as she quickly wiped away her tears. "Yes, dear, it's me. I'm right here in the kitchen with Nathan." She responded

Nathan stood up, a gentle smile on his face. "I'll go check on Grandpa, Grandma."

Julie nodded, her eyes grateful. "Thank you, sweetie. I'll finish up dinner."

As Nathan walked back into the living room, he found Ernest sitting up in his rocking chair, his eyes cloudy with sleep. Nathan took his grandfather's hand, his touch gentle and reassuring.

"It's okay, Grandpa. I'm here. Grandma's making dinner."

Ernest's face softened, a warm smile spreading across his lips. "Thank you, Nathan. I'm glad you're here."

As they sat down to eat, Ernest began to tell another story, this one about his courtship with Julie. Nathan listened, entranced, as Ernest spoke of their first meeting, their first date, and their wedding day.

But just as Ernest was getting to the good part, a sudden look of confusion crossed his face. He stared at Julie, his eyes narrowing as if trying to remember something.

Julie, what's going on?" he asked, his voice low and suspicious.

Julie's smile faltered, and she exchanged a nervous glance with Nathan. "What do you mean, dear?"

Ernest's eyes locked onto Julie's, a hint of accusation in his tone. "I mean, who are you? You're not my wife."

The room fell silent, with Nathan's eyes wide with shock. Julie's face paled, and she laid back on her seat, her hands trembling.

"Ernest, of course, I'm your wife," she stammered. "We've been married for over 50 years."

But Ernest shook his head, his eyes clouded with confusion. "No, I don't remember you having a tribal mark. I don't remember anything."

Placing her hands on her cheek where the mark was on, she quickly remembered how it got visible. During her cooking, she had some particles of the bubbling sauce splash around her eye area, prompting her to wash it off which took away the makeup she had used to conceal her mark.

As the truth dawned on Nathan, he felt like he had been punched in the gut. Julie, the woman he had known as his grandmother, was not who she claimed to be. But who was she, and why had she been pretending to be Ernest's wife?

As the scene unfolded, Nathan's mind was racing with questions. What had happened to Ernest's real wife? Why was this lady pretending to be her?

The imposter, sensing Nathan's confusion and seeing that her cover has been blown, took a deep breath and began to explain. "Nathan, Ernest.... I...I can explain. But it will change everything."

Ernest, still looking confused, shook his head. "What's going on? Who are you?" He questioned again, this time at the top of his voice.

Her eyes filled with tears as she turned to Ernest. "I'm so sorry, Ernest. I never meant to hurt you or even lead you on for that matter. My name is Jane, a lost twin of your wife. We met on one of her medical visits. I had just lost my husband that day at the hospital when we met for the first time. My twin, Julie, passed away 10 years ago in my home. She died of cancer and didn't want you to find out so you won't be devastated. She came to me during her last days and asked that I pretend to be her just sooo...."

"Liar! You lie!". Ernest cuts in yelling aggressively at the top of his voice not wanting to listen or believe whatever Jane has to say. Jane was overwhelmed.

Nathan's eyes widened in shock. "What? Why didn't you tell us?" He questioned disappointingly

Ernest's face contorted in pain as he processed the information. "Why...why did you lie to me?"

Jane fell to her knees, tears streaming down her face. "I'm so sorry, Ernest. I never meant to hurt you. I just wanted to help you heal, your family has come to be the only thing that I have left keeping me in this world. Please don't chase me away".

The room fell silent, with Nathan trying to process the shocking revelation. He looked at Jane, seeing her in a new light. She had pretended to be his grandmother, but why?

As the truth sank in, Nathan felt a mix of emotions: shock, anger, and sadness. He didn't know what to make of Jane's confession, but he knew that nothing would ever be the same again.