Odds and ends

I went to the mail this morning and found a couple of surprises. The first was a check for three hundred sixty simoleans, paid to me by Mr. Tripp for my painting. Not bad for my first commission, if I might say so myself. The second was an application to join SiMensa, the Sims' high-IQ society, the geniuses club of which both my parents and Aunt Margaret are/were all members. I think my grandma was a member, too, not sure, and Cylene and Clarice are, too. I set the application aside and decided I'd get to it some other time.

Suddenly, I had a hankering to see Mortimer. I'm still not sure why I did, but I got dressed, tried to do something with my stick-straight hair (thanks for nothing, dad!) and drove my car over to the Goth manor.

I'd never been there, and I'd heard it was this scary, spooky place, but it wasn't that way at all. It was just another mansion.

Mortimer came to the door. "Savannah, what a surprise."

By the time I looked at my watch, though, it was time to go to work. Thankfully, the cemetery was right by the Goth manor, so it was a quick drive.

I felt brave after going to work, plus I'd been promoted to "overseer of the dead," so I decided to go into the catacombs again. The first time I went alone, I was really little, younger than most when they tackle this the first time.
I came out with a few precious uncut sapphires and bruises all over my body. No big deal, really.

I was leaving the cemetery when I saw ... dad.

I couldn't let him see me like this, but despite my ducking and dodging he managed to chase me down. For an old guy, he sure is speedy.

"Vanna -- what happened to you?"

"I -- I took a nasty fall," I told him. I wasn't completely lying, but I wasn't telling the whole truth, either.

"Care to clue me in on what's been going on with you?"

I shook my head. "What do you mean, dad?"

"Vanna, I know you've been up to something, I just can't put my finger on what."

I took a deep breath. I ended up telling him everything.

"You know, Savannah, I've always told my children to do what makes them happy, not to do things because I did them. Your mother may not like that you've chosen to have this kind of vagabond existence, but if leading this life of adventure makes you happy, who am I to stop you?"