CHAPTER FIVE

GRACIE

Gracia started the day with her head buzzing with thoughts. Yesterday Preston had packed up shop and left as soon as they got back upstairs, leaving installation of the countertop and the pegboard for hanging yarn undone. He had told her that the site was probably historic and wouldn’t continue work until she got it verified.

Apparently there were big penalties in Philadelphia for renovating a property that was deemed historic. Gracie knew that the whole Bella Vista district was designated historical. Practically the whole city was historical, and contractors knew not to proceed if anything looked remotely unusual. And a room underneath a house across the street from William Still’s house was unusual.

Gran had never said anything about it. Maybe she didn’t know.

After dragging herself out of bed, Gracie got a cup of coffee and went to the living room. As she sipped the hot liquid, her eyes focused on her keepsake box from Gran. She set the cup down, went across the room, and picked it up. It was a sturdy box, heavy and coarse against her fingers. This house was full of secrets, including whatever was in this box. Gran had never told Gracie what was inside. They had talked so much in the year she was Gran’s caregiver, but Gran didn’t say much about it. Gracie knew that Gran was still adding to the box. She had come into Gran’s room one morning and seen Gran putting something into it.

When Gracie asked how soon she could see what was inside, Gran had said, “Soon enough.”

Secrets. Now any forward progress she’d made on the house was at a standstill because of a huge one downstairs. She could use the time to order yarn and other inventory, but that wouldn’t take more than a week. Her headache from yesterday hinted a return, a prick above her eyes.

She went downstairs and stood in front of the secret door. The gray day outside paled the natural light coming through the front windows. If there wasn’t so much animosity between her and her family, she would call them and ask them about it. Uncle Rand would not be happy about her removing the drywall and would accuse her of ruining the house.

But there was someone she could ask. She made a phone call.

“Hey, Gracie.” Ms. Lila’s voice instantly lifted Gracie’s mood.

“Good morning. Do you have time to talk?”

“Just a little bit. My grandson is picking me up for lunch.”

A pang of jealousy pricked her. “I don’t want to hold you, but I wanted to ask you about the house.”

“Of course, but I’m not sure how much I can tell you,” Ms. Lila said with hesitation.

“Did Gran ever tell you anything …” Gracie paused. “Anything secret about the house? About a secret door that leads down to a little room?”

The line went silent for a few seconds. “No. Nothing like that.”

“Preston was doing work yesterday. There’s brick and a door behind the drywall.”

“My word.”

“Then he told me that historians recently discovered that William Still lived across the street from this house.”

“They sure did,” Ms. Lila said. “My grandson, Clarence, was one of the ones who discovered it.” The pride in her voice was unmistakable.

An idea lit up her thoughts. “You said you’re having lunch with him today?”

“Yes, in a couple hours.”

“Any chance you both can come by?”

“Absolutely.” Ms. Lila’s voice was charged with excitement. “I wanna see this room. When they found the Still house, they found a room over there too. I wanted to go see, but the owners weren’t letting anyone but the researchers inside. And we thought Mother Bethel was our most significant historical location.” She laughed. “Listen to me going on like this. I sound like Clarence.”

“If you and he could stop by, I would really appreciate it.”

“We will.”

“Thank you,” Gracie said, and she ended the call, her shoulders relaxing.

The rest of the morning dragged by. She blew through the day’s tasks, but the clock didn’t seem to move. She stopped in front of the door more than once. Had Gran said anything about the house being a part of the Underground Railroad and she just didn’t remember? Not likely. Gran talked constantly about history. And not just local history. Gran had Gracie memorize the family tree four generations back. Gran was a huge history buff. That was one of the reasons she had loved living in Philly.

“Living around so much history makes you feel your importance and your insignificance,” Gran had said.

One day when they were walking past the Liberty Bell, Gran had squeezed her hand and said, “It’s hard to believe that we are also a part of this city. Part of all this history. Marian Leander and Gracie McNeil.”

Gracie had laughed. “You may be, Gran, but not me. I don’t even live here.”

Gran smiled. “You are still a part of this history, because I am.”

Sadness crashed over her with that memory. Gracie fought back tears. The sound of the doorbell prevented her from dissolving into a blubbering mess. She swung open the door. Ms. Lila and a very handsome man, presumably the grandson, Clarence, stood on the steps. “You’re here.”

“We cut our lunch short. Clarence was very excited about your room and wanted to see it sooner rather than later,” Ms. Lila said, motioning to him.

Clarence smiled. “I hope you don’t mind.” His hair was dark, cut in a fade with coarse curls on top. He had a thin mustache and beard on a face the same rich brown as Ms. Lila’s. He wore glasses that seemed to magnify the kindness twinkling in his eyes.

Gracie blinked, sure she was gawking. “No, I don’t.”

He offered her a handshake. “It’s nice to finally meet you. My grandmother talks about you all the time.”

Gracie glanced at Ms. Lila, who had the nerve to be wearing an innocent expression, eyes on the room behind Gracie.

“Does she?” Gracie asked.

“She said that you might need a friend.”

“Thank you.” Can a girl have friends as handsome as you?

“Is that it?” Ms. Lila asked, bringing a welcome shift in the conversation.

Gracie led them to the door. “Yes. And I don’t know what to do.”

Clarence stopped in front of the exposed brick wall. He ran his hand over it but didn’t speak. After he was done examining the wall, Gracie picked up the flashlight she’d left nearby, flicked it on, and opened the door.

Clarence sucked in a breath behind her.

“Be careful, Ms. Lila,” Gracie said.

Ms. Lila waved her hand. “I ain’t that old. And I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

They traversed the stairs with Gracie leading the way. Clarence descended, stepping sideways, supporting Ms. Lila. His eyes grew wide as they reached the bottom of the stairs.

Gracie shone the light around the room. “This is it. It’s not a root cellar. That’s right behind that wood panel on the other side.” She and Preston had replaced the panel before exiting the secret room.

Clarence walked the area of the small space, still not speaking. He came to a stop in the middle of the room. When he turned, he wore the biggest grin. “I think you have found yourself a secret Underground Railroad room.”

Gracie gaped. “Really?”

“Really.” Clarence’s excitement practically had the air humming.

Back at the top of the stairs, Clarence watched Gracie close the door. “I can’t believe it.”

“But what are the chances that there would be two station houses this close together?” Gracie asked.

“It’s not unheard of.” Clarence led Ms. Lila to the sofa. “Documents show that the Underground Railroad was very active in Bella Vista. It was a vibrant free Black community in the 1800s. There was probably a network of houses in the area.”

Ms. Lila nodded. “That’s what the curator of the museum at Mother Bethel said. She said that there were a couple of row houses around here that were probably station houses, but the rooms were destroyed when they were renovated. That the homeowners didn’t have any idea what they were demolishing.”

“Good thing your contractor knew about William Still’s house.” Clarence shifted from side to side. “Ms. Gracie, if you don’t mind, I would like to do some research. With your permission.”

Gracie smiled at him. “Of course. And call me Gracie.”

“Okay … Gracie.” His eyes sparkled, and his energy made him even more handsome.

“I wish I could help you, but I don’t know much about the house,” Gracie said.

He glanced over her shoulder at the door again. “This could be huge.”

Ms. Lila rose. “Don’t worry, Gracie. If anyone can find information about your house, it’s Clarence.”

Clarence dropped his gaze, and it looked like the tips of his ears turned pink. “I will do my best. I’ll get in contact with you as soon as I know something.”

“You’ll need Gracie’s number.” Ms. Lila smiled the most suspicious grin Gracie had ever seen on the woman’s face. “I’ll give it to him.”

Clarence didn’t seem to notice. “Great. I’ll call you.”

“Thank you so much for this,” Gracie said.

He cleared his throat, adjusted his glasses, and rubbed his palms on his pants. “Let me do something before you thank me.”

“He’ll find something,” Ms. Lila said, smiling.

“Thanks again,” Gracie said.

She stood in the doorway, watching their progress up the street. Her heart thumped. Oh, Gran. Did you know what you were doing when you gave me this house?

Gracie put her hands on her hips and smiled. In front of her stood her third completed cube shelving unit. To keep herself from obsessing about the door and the secret room, she had thrown herself into the remaining items on her list. Removing the drywall was the messiest renovation. Preston had cleaned up almost all the white powder, and a good sweep and mop took care of the rest. That done, she could begin setting up the shop.

She had moved the two armchairs that had finally arrived, to flank the sofa. The racks for knitting needles were on the other side of the staircase near the kitchen. She could probably open the boxes of yarn next. After a long search, she purchased the perfect shades for the front windows. Her next purchase was a sign. Yesterday she had taken a stroll, studying the signage of other businesses on her block. It would be an unwelcome eyesore if her sign was too gaudy.

As she had walked, she couldn’t help wondering how many other houses on the street were hiding secrets.

With a little effort, she pushed the unit against the wall just as movement in the front window caught her eye. From where she stood, she could see Clarence standing on the front step, but he couldn’t see her. As she approached the door, she watched him do a quick check of his clothes and run his hand through his hair. She slowed. He couldn’t be primping for her.

“Hi, Clarence. Come in,” she said, swinging the door wide before he could ring the bell.

He stepped inside with a draft of cold wind. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”

“Nothing but shop prep.”

He looked around the room. “This is really coming together.”

She smiled at him, although her expression was probably closer to amazement. “Thank you.”

He unbuttoned his coat and unwound the scarf from his neck. “I probably should have called, but I was at my grandma’s house and she said it was okay if I just stopped by.”

“It’s fine. What can I do for you?”

“I talked to my colleagues at the Philadelphia Historical Commission, and they asked me to come by and talk to you about the house.” He grinned. “And I wanted to see the room again. I couldn’t stop thinking about it. It seems so unbelievable.”

She couldn’t help but return his smile. “I can’t believe it myself.”

“And if it’s not too much trouble, can I see the rest of the house? I need to see if there are any other features that might give us clues about its age.”

“Of course. Especially if it will help move this process forward.”

For the next thirty minutes, she gave Clarence a tour of the house. They started from the secret room and the root cellar and went all the way to the attic. Clarence was quiet the same way he was when she first took him into the room, studying door hardware and windows. The only time he spoke was when he saw the little wooden box Gran had given her.

He stepped to where she had set it on the TV stand. “That’s very nice.”

“My gran gave it to me. She had a box for each of her children and grandchildren.”

“That’s really thoughtful. Must be some amazing memories inside,” he said, stooping down to study the box more closely.

Gracie sighed. “I wouldn’t know. I don’t have to the key to open it. And I’m too afraid of damaging the lock to try and pick it.”

“Smart idea.”

As they made their way through the rest of the rooms, she couldn’t help but notice the sparkle in his eyes.

They returned to the sitting room. “Can we talk?” he asked.

She nodded, motioned him to a chair, and took the seat across from him.

“First, I wanted to ask a difficult question.” He leaned forward in his seat. “About your grandmother.”

Although he spoke softly, his words knocked the wind out of her. She stiffened. “Yes?”

He moved his hand like he wanted to grasp hers but then rested it on his knee. “Did she say anything about the history of this house?”

Gracie shook her head. “Not to me.”

“Is there anyone in the family you can ask?”

The family meeting flashed through her mind. She scowled and then tried to quickly smooth out her expression.

Clarence let out a soft chuckle. “I’ll take that as a no.”

A big no. If Uncle Rand knew … Her stomach soured. “I’d rather use other means than family.”

“I understand,” he said. “Now for another question. Would you like to nominate this house to be classified as a historic site?”

Gracie raised her eyebrows. “Should I?”

“Based on what I’ve seen, I think you should. This house is too close to William Still’s house for your room to have been used for storage.”

She looked down at her hands in her lap. “How long would the process take?”

“Months. But sometimes years.”

Her gaze snapped up to him. “Years? I can’t wait years before I open my shop.”

Clarence held up his hands. “It’s okay. I think you can still open your shop while you wait for the process to finish. The biggest thing would be that you couldn’t do any renovations until the process was finished.”

She turned and motioned to the wall behind her. “I’ve already started.”

“No, no. Not things like removing drywall. I mean structural changes. Like knocking out a wall or extending the back of the house.”

“Oh,” Gracie’s mind whirred. It could be a real boon to have the shop in a historic location. Then she thought of Gran. It would be an honor to have this house designated as an Underground Railroad Station. Bittersweet. “I guess. Yes.”

Clarence grinned. “Great. Don’t worry. I’ll walk you through the whole process. And I can direct you to some people who can help.”

His excitement lifted her spirits a little. “Okay. What do we do first?”

“Research. We need to learn as much as we can about the history of the house. We live in the most historic city in the country, so it shouldn’t be hard to find information.”

Gracie laughed. “Gran used to say something similar.”

“Are you free tomorrow? I would like to have you come down to the Historical Commission headquarters. There are a lot of records there.” He suddenly became interested in lint on his coat. “Maybe we could have lunch.”

“Lunch?” she squeaked.

“A working lunch. We can start filling out the paperwork.” He clasped his hands together.

Gracie fought the urge to squirm. People had lunch while working together all the time. That was what this was. Just lunch. “Okay.”

“Great,” he said. He popped up from the chair and pulled a business card from the holder he took from his pocket. “You can look at the forms on the website.”

“I’ll do that tonight.”

He buttoned his coat. “All right. Good. Uh—I should go then. Thank you for letting me look at the house again.”

“You’re welcome.”

They walked to the door together. “See you tomorrow,” Gracie said, opening the door.

He stepped out then stopped. “One more thing. Tell as few people about the house as you can. The situation could grow volatile if people suspected this site has a secret Underground Railroad room. I could tell you some horror stories. And I would hate for you to be put in danger.”

She held his gaze for a second, and warmth started at the tips of her ears and flushed her whole face. “I’ll keep it to myself.”

He nodded. “See you tomorrow.”

She closed the door and leaned against it. This house was turning out to be quite an adventure.