CHAPTER SEVEN

GRACIE

Gracie donned her coat, wrapped one of her hand-knitted cowls around her shoulders, and headed out into the crisp October air. That was something she needed to adjust to. Winters in Philly were much colder than Richmond. Depending on how warm it was, it wasn’t unusual for her to head to Virginia Beach in October.

She walked to her car, letting the air cool her anxiety for the task ahead of her.

Clarence had asked her if there was anyone in the family she could ask about the house. She had said no, but in fact there was someone. It would take a bit of sneaking, but Ada might know something. She had spent as much time with Gran as Gracie had, especially since she only lived twenty minutes away from Gran. Ada was also three years older than Gracie. That meant she was sitting at the grown-up table at Thanksgiving long before Gracie was.

The problem was that Ada still lived at home with Uncle Rand.

She had texted Ada earlier to see if she was home … and to see if Uncle Rand wasn’t. He’d retired a few years ago and spent much more time at home. Ada had told her that he’d gone out to a doctor’s appointment, and Gracie had hurried to get to her car.

After pulling up in front of Uncle Rand’s, Gracie hopped out of the car and rushed to the door. She tried to regulate her breathing and still her thoughts, but each step sent her nerves jangling. Ada must have seen her hurrying up the walk, because she opened the door before Gracie reached it.

Once inside, Ada helped Gracie take off her coat. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. It’s just that … well, it’s better that we have this conversation in private.”

Ada nodded. “Let’s go up to my room.”

Ada’s room was as large as a master bedroom and was neatly decorated with a bed with a padded headboard and a comfy-looking armchair surrounded by books.

She steered Gracie toward the chair and sat on the end of the bed. “What’s up?”

Gracie took a deep breath. “I need to ask you some questions about Gran’s house.”

Ada tipped her head in surprise. “Me?”

“Yes, and I need you to keep this conversation to yourself,” Gracie said slowly.

“You don’t have to worry about me talking to my dad. I’m on his bad side right now. He’s not happy that my mother let me move back home.”

Gracie resisted the urge to reach over and grasp her hand. Ada’s relationship with her father ranged from cool to problematic. They went through seasons of not speaking to each other. “Aw, Ada.”

Ada gave her a weak smile. “You know how it is. Now tell me about Gran’s house.”

Gracie looked at the door. “I found something at the house.”

“Something like what?” Ada asked.

Gracie gripped the arms of the chair. “A secret room.”

Ada leaned forward. “What kind of secret room?”

“Well, I’ve been talking to someone from the Philadelphia Historical Commission, and he thinks it may have been a station house on the Underground Railroad.”

Ada eyes widened. “For real?”

Gracie nodded. “I found the room when the contractors came. There was a little door under the stairs next to the bathroom.”

“What?” She shook her head as if to clear her shock. “You know there’s a root cellar down there. Could it be that?”

“No,” Gracie said. “It’s hidden behind the root cellar.”

“That’s incredible.”

“Did Gran say anything to you about it? Did she … did she know it was there?”

“She never said anything to me about it. But Gran loved her history.”

“I know,” Gracie said. “It seems odd that she wouldn’t say anything about it. That’s a pretty big secret to keep.”

Ada stood and began to pace. “Why would she keep it a secret? To think that Gran and Paw-Paw lived in that house all those years—” Ada stopped pacing.

“What is it?” Gracie asked.

Her expression changed to wonder. “Oh. Do you remember the Christmas Paw-Paw disappeared? You were young, so you might not remember.”

Gracie frowned. She had spent a lot of Christmases at Gran’s house, especially when she was younger. Her father insisted that she stay connected to her mother’s side of the family. Gracie had always believed it was because he didn’t want the reminder that he was spending the holidays without his wife. “How old were you?”

“Twelve. So you would have been nine.” Ada was bouncing on her toes now. “Paw-Paw was trying to convince us that Santa had brought our gifts. Then he said he could prove that Santa could get in and out of the house without us seeing him.”

In a flash, the memory rose in Gracie’s mind in full color. Paw-Paw had made her and Ada cover their eyes and count to thirty and then he “disappeared.” They had searched the whole house. Gran, with a sneaky smile on her face, had even let them peer into the root cellar. Paw-Paw wasn’t in the house. They returned to the living room and covered their eyes again, and he reappeared.

“I do remember!” Gracie said with a laugh.

“We searched that house top to bottom and couldn’t find him. He was probably in the secret room.”

“I thought he had simply gone outside, but we didn’t hear a door open.” Gracie felt tears prickling in her eyes. “They knew.”

Ada sat down on the bed again. “But they never said anything. That makes the house even more special.”

“What makes the house more special?”

Both Gracie and Ada jumped at the sound of Uncle Rand’s voice. He stood in the doorway, arms across his chest. He was still wearing the black fedora he always wore when he went out. On his face was a scowl.

“Dad!” Ada gave him a stern look. “Why are you lurking?”

He looked from Ada to Gracie. “What are you doing here, and what are y’all talking about?”

Gracie opened her mouth to respond, but Ada beat her to it. “My cousin is visiting me, and what we are talking about is our business.”

“Do I have to remind you that you are living in my house?” he asked.

“You remind me every day. I will remind you that just because I’m living here doesn’t mean you can eavesdrop on my conversations.”

He faced Gracie. “Is this about the house? What have you done?”

Ada sprang from the bed. “Out, Dad.” She grasped the doorknob. “I don’t come into your room uninvited, and I don’t think you should do that to me.”

He looked past Ada at Gracie. “I will find out what’s going on.”

“Dad, please,” Ada said as she began closing the door.

“We’ll discuss this later.”

Ada closed the door and listened for a few seconds to make sure her father had walked away. Then she let out a loud sigh. “He can be so difficult sometimes. I wish I could afford to move out. I normally went to Gran’s to get away—” She wrung her hands. “Actually, I have something to talk to you about too.”

“Okay.”

“Can I move in with you”

Gracie froze. “Are you serious?”

“I can help with the bills.” She took a step forward. “I’m not asking to live there for free.”

Gracie looked down at her hands in her lap. When she had moved into the house, her expectation was that she would always live there alone, especially with Gran gone. But having Ada there … Hope flickered in her heart, but she tamped it down.

“Your dad is going to be furious.”

Ada rolled her eyes. “He already is.”

Gracie laughed. “You’re right about that.”

“I can move myself, and I’ll take the small bedroom on the second floor.”

“I’m already in that room.”

Ada frowned then brightened. “Then I’ll help you move to the big one on the third floor.”

Move into Gran’s room? She swallowed. The urge to say no was strong. She and Ada had been estranged from one another for a long time. And Gracie had wrongly assumed that Ada was just as angry at her as the rest of the family was.

“Unless you don’t want me to move in. I understand if you hate me for—”

Gracie’s head snapped up. “I don’t hate you.”

Ada flinched like she had been stung. “I—I thought you would with the way my father has been treating you. And I didn’t exactly stand up for you when all the drama was going down with Gran.”

“That was a whole mess.” Gracie shook her head. “Losing Gran hurt so bad, and then being accused of conning her out of the house by everyone. I didn’t know who to trust.”

Ada came across the room and knelt in front of her. “I’m sorry. I should have spoken up sooner and not left you to be eaten by the wolves.” She pulled Gracie out of the chair and hugged her.

A flood broke in Gracie. This was one of the few genuine hugs she’d received since Gran died. She cried big ugly sobs. Ada rubbed her back until the tears subsided.

When she pulled back from the embrace, she saw that Ada had tears in her eyes too. “All better, baby cousin?” Ada asked.

Gracie laughed at the nickname Ada had given her years ago. “Yes. And I think I would like for you to move in with me, on one condition. You cannot call me baby cousin.”

They laughed, and Gracie could just imagine what Gran would say if she saw them now.

“Family should stick together.” Gran had repeated that to both her and Ada. Yes. Gran would approve of this togetherness.

Gracie woke and sat up in bed. The morning sun brightened her room, saturating the colors of her things. Her thoughts seemed lighter since she had talked with Ada, even though some of their conversation had been hard, especially when Ada asked how she was coping with Gran’s death. How to answer that question? Tell Ada that everything reminded her that Gran wasn’t there anymore? Tell her about the cold of loneliness she fought off the longer she stayed in the house? How it felt to realize that the two women who loved her the most had left her in a soup of emotions? Ada wouldn’t understand that.

She’d told Ada that it was hard but she was handling it. Still, it cheered Gracie to be able to talk to someone who loved Gran as much as she did. And now she was on her way to the Philadelphia Historical Commission to look for proof that this house that Gran loved played a role in history.

Cool air prickled her face as she walked to her car. The last day of fall was fast approaching, but the chill felt closer to Christmas. She picked up her pace, focusing on walking and not thinking about spending the holidays alone. Not completely alone. Ada would be at the house by then.

Enough of that. She climbed into her car and started her drive. If she didn’t stop thinking about it, she would be in tears when she reached Clarence. She sighed as she took Penn Square around City Hall. Her grip on the steering wheel increased with every inch closer she drew to the commission’s headquarters.

She parked in a lot that put her a block away from her destination. She strolled, looking up at the buildings. As she passed Love Park, she stopped, staring. How many times had she, Ada, and Gran come here for the Christmas market? Or for an outdoor concert? Grief blurred the memories and sharpened the pain.

She plunged ahead and spotted a man standing in front of the building. As she got closer, she recognized Clarence—standing outside in the cold waiting for her. That revelation warmed her more than her coat had done since she left the house.

He glanced up from his phone, met her gaze, and smiled. Very warm.

“Hi, Gracie,” he said.

She adjusted her bag on her shoulder. “You didn’t have to stand outside to wait for me.”

He turned and opened the door of the building behind him. “It’s okay. I needed the air.”

Clarence led her to an elevator bank. “You’ve created quite a buzz in the office.”

She turned to look at him—rather, up at him. Way up. Every other time she’d talked to him they had been farther away from each other. Or sitting. She hadn’t noticed his height compared to hers—or how good his cologne smelled. “I have?” she asked with a squeak.

The elevator door opened, and he motioned for her to enter first. “Yes. My colleagues are excited there may be another site so close to William Still’s house. It would be a huge find and give us more insight into how the station houses might have worked.”

“Don’t you have records?”

Clarence shrugged. “Some. William Still had the most extensive collection of notes, but that was because he went to great lengths to hide them. He didn’t keep them in his house but in a crypt in a cemetery. The other conductors and stationmasters would have been taking a dangerous risk to keep records.”

She looked at the LED lights displaying the floors as they rose. “I hope your colleagues aren’t too disappointed if my room is just extra storage.” Might as well manage expectations early on. Given her track record in life, the room wasn’t something special. Simply a cleverly hidden cellar.

The elevator door opened, and Clarence led her down the hall to a wooden door that held a placard with PHILADELPHIA HISTORICAL COMMISSION on it. He opened the door and led her into a small reception area. The man at the desk looked up and smiled. “Is this her?”

Clarence leaned close to her and whispered, “Told you.” Then he turned to the man at the desk. “Yes, this is Gracie McNeil. Gracie, this is my boss, Arthur Winston.”

Arthur moved around the desk to shake her hand. “You have no idea how excited we were when Clarence told us about your house. I’m assuming you’re here to nominate it?”

“Yes, I am,” Gracie said, accepting the handshake, her scalp tingling with nervousness.

“But you didn’t have to come in to do that. You could have filled the forms out online. Clarence, why didn’t you have her do that?”

To Gracie’s surprised, Clarence flushed. “Well, uh, we were going to look at some records while she’s here, and I wanted to—uh—show her around.”

Arthur seemed not to notice Clarence’s reddened ears and beamed at Gracie. “In that case, welcome.”

“Thank you,” Gracie said, her own face heating.

Clarence smoothed the front of his jacket. “Shall we go to my office?”

He led her down a short hallway. Gracie covered her smile with her hand as she entered the room. If she hadn’t met him, his office would have given her a clear glimpse into his personality. An armchair was perfectly positioned in the small space. A small bookshelf sat behind his desk, the books on it shelved by height. A slightly disorganized pile of papers in an open folder and an empty paper cup on his desk were the only evidence that someone worked here.

He moved to his desk and tossed the cup into the trash. “Are you ready?”

“Yes.” Gracie sat in the chair and took out the sock she had been knitting. “What are we looking for?”

When he looked up, his expression was mildly confused. “I thought we would start with finding out how old your house is.” He stared at the sock and then back up at her. “Uh, you can’t sit there.”

She popped out of the seat. “I’m sorry.”

“No, I mean, you can’t sit there if you want to see. Sit here.” He motioned to his desk chair.

“Oh,” was all she could manage. She kept a tight grip on her knitting as she moved around the desk and sat.

He leaned over and slid the keyboard closer. He typed her address into a search bar. “Let’s look the house up on the Office of Property Assessment website. It’s easier to start with public records.”

“Okay,” she said, sliding the stitches on her needles back and forth.

The screen changed to show the details of her house. Clarence leaned closer, eyes narrowing. “This says your house was built in 1930.”

Gracie exhaled, her shoulders slumping. So her room was just a cellar. “Oh well,” she said quietly.

“That doesn’t seem right.” Clarence tapped the desk with his finger. “The rest of the properties in this area were built much earlier. Let me check our records of nominations.”

He clicked into a different window on his computer and typed her address again. He hit Search, and the screen changed almost immediately: NO RESULTS FOUND.

Gracie let out a sigh.

Clarence looked down at her. “Don’t give up just yet. William Still’s house was listed as built in 1930 and wasn’t nominated right away either.”

“What’s next?”

Clarence moved around his desk and sat in the armchair Gracie had vacated. “You need to submit an application to the commission. That includes an essay and photos of the house. Most of all, you need to prove why the house is historic.”

Gracie lifted her knitting again, her fingers threatening to cramp by how tightly her hands had been clasped in her lap. “But we can’t prove that yet.”

Clarence smiled. “Not yet. But we will. Once we do, you can submit the application.”

“You are so confident,” she said softly.

He leaned forward. “After what I saw at your house, I am.”

Gracie stared at him for a moment. If anyone could determine the chances of her house being an Underground Railroad station, Clarence seemed to be the one. “How exactly do we do research on the house?”

Clarence’s smile was so wide his glasses seemed to go up with it. “That’s where I come in. It will involve a lot of reading and a lot of dust inhalation.”

She laughed. “That makes sense.”

“And we can start right away, if you like.”

Before she could respond, there was a knock at the door and Arthur popped his head through the doorway. “Hate to interrupt, but, Clarence, can I speak to you?”

Clarence stood and, before he stepped into the hallway, gave her a nod.

Gracie sat in the chair, her thoughts a tangled ball of yarn. As much as she wanted to nominate her house, what if this was a big waste of time? She already had enough to do. Close Gran’s estate. Get all the zoning permits and licenses to open a business. She let out a weary sigh. Maybe she should wait until she had the other things done. The room wasn’t going anywhere.

But Gran would have been so excited about this. She would have plunged right into the research or whatever else she needed to do. Gracie would have to do what Gran couldn’t.

Clearance returned, wearing a slight frown. “I know I said we could start right away, but something has come up that I have to deal with.”

Gracie rose, putting her sock back into her project bag. “That’s okay. You’ve done a lot already.”

He escorted her back down the hall. “I can’t work on it today, but that doesn’t mean forever.” He looked down at her. “I’ll call you to reschedule.”

“Great. I’ll talk to you then.”

Walking back to her car, Gracie wondered more than once if this meant he was also rescheduling the lunch date.