CHAPTER ELEVEN

GRACIE

The calendar Gracie had hung on the wall in front of her desk caught her attention and taunted her. She glanced at it and grimaced. Two of her twelve weeks had passed. Now she had only ten weeks to get the shop ready for the grand opening. She should have been excited that she had accomplished so many things on her list. But those were the easy things. She still had the harder things to do.

Preston had called several times for an update. Grateful as she was that he was concerned, she dreaded the calls. His thoughtfulness reminded her that she was stuck. How was she supposed to move forward when the pegboards to display the yarn weren’t installed yet? She also hadn’t ordered the shop’s sign. No sense doing that if she wasn’t sure she could hang it outside. And it made no sense to hang a sign on a shop that wouldn’t be open for at least a month.

But she still had to pay her bills. In her office, she reviewed her plans again. All of her income was tied up in opening the shop. The zoning permit wouldn’t take long, but getting Preston to come back was going to take longer. She could find another contractor, but that would take time she didn’t have. She rubbed the bridge of her nose. What was she going to do?

She heard the front door open. In a moment, Ada rounded the staircase. “Oh, hey. Working?”

Gracie leaned back in her chair. “Something like that. Trying to make some decisions about the shop.”

“I thought you had put the online shop on hold while you prepared to open.” Ada unbuttoned her coat.

“I did.” She shook her head. This was not a conversation she wanted to have right now. “How was class?” she asked.

Ada ran through her day, letting her book bag slide off her shoulder. As she did, Gracie’s laptop let off a soft ping, and she looked at the screen. She’d received a message on the shop’s site.

Gracie squinted at the screen. “What is this?”

Ada looked over her shoulder. “I thought you said you put the shop on hold.”

“The retail part anyways.” She opened up the website’s inbox. There were thirty new messages there, all dated during the days she’d been trying to figure out the secret room.

Ada laughed. “When was the last time you checked your messages?”

“Only a week. But I normally don’t get this many.” Most of them expressed excitement that she was opening a brick-and-mortar store in Philly. A couple were from her old customers, one asking if she would still be taking online orders since Gracie was her favorite yarn store. Gracie groaned. Why didn’t she think of that? She could reopen the online shop. That would generate income.

“Oh, wow,” Ada said. “Looks like people are ready to shop. That’s good, right?”

“Yes, it is.” Shock jumbling her thoughts, Gracie read the rest of the messages.

They were class enrollments.

“Oh! Look at this.” Gracie pointed to the screen, her finger trembling. “I almost forgot I’d opened up those registrations.”

“The adult class is half-full, and the kids’ class is completely full,” Ada said, her grin growing wider.

Gracie covered her mouth with her hand. She didn’t know what to expect when it came to registration, but she didn’t expect this. She looked through the kids’ class registrations first. The listing had said that the class would be suitable for children ages ten to twelve. Most of the students were twelve. One of the registrations had a note saying that the student, Mia Barton, would be thirteen by the time the class started and asked if that was okay.

More importantly, all the registrations were ready to pay in full.

“That’s pretty cool. Too bad you have to wait until the shop opens,” Ada said.

Gracie gaped at her. Did she have to wait? “Once the registrations are paid, why can’t I have the class?”

Ada shrugged. “I thought you were waiting until you research the house’s history.”

“But I don’t have to. I can have the classes now, just like I did when I was living in Richmond,” Gracie said, still staring at the screen. “I used to host a knitting class at the local art center. All I need is a space to sit and supplies, and I have both. I don’t have to wait for the rezoning either, since I’m not opening the retail portion of the shop.”

Ada patted Gracie on the back. “Then it looks like you can do it.”

Gracie glanced at the space that would be the dining room. Amazingly, she had found an old worktable in the local school system’s excess sale. It was the perfect height for instruction. “I would need to finish setting up the classroom space.”

“I can help you. It shouldn’t take long,” Ada said.

“We need some chairs.”

“Other than that, I can’t think of any reason you can’t hold the classes even though the shop isn’t officially open.” Ada nodded. “I think you should do it.”

I need to do this. Gracie returned to the laptop, her mind racing. “First I have to find out if the parents would be willing to start the class early.”

“Let me put my stuff upstairs, and I’ll get the space set up and look for some chairs,” Ada said.

It took only ten minutes to email the parents. Then Gracie helped Ada move the table around and they searched for chairs together. All the while, Gracie had to fight off the feeling of surrealness. She was doing what she never dreamed she would do, and that lightened her heart. But fear tempered her excitement. What if this failed? What if this was just a waste of time?

Chairs ordered, for less than she anticipated, Gracie went back and checked her email. Three of the five parents had agreed to the date change.

“That was quick,” Ada said, looking over her shoulder.

Gracie nodded. “I guess I’m going to have to put together the kits for the class.”

Ada clapped. “Let’s do it.”

They went to the front of the store, and Gracie opened a box of yarn. “Each kit needs a pair of size seven knitting needles and a ball of cotton yarn.”

“What’s the pattern?” Ada asked.

“A knitted dishcloth.” It was the perfect first project. It wasn’t as long as a scarf, and a new student could finish it without losing enthusiasm. It was the first thing she’d knitted all those years ago when she’d fallen in love with the rhythm of the stitches.

“Ah, the old dishcloth-as-a-first-project trick,” Ada said, selecting five sets of bamboo needles.

Gracie stared at her. “How do you know that? And that I needed bamboo needles?”

Ada stepped away from the box of needles. “You taught me, remember?”

Once when Gracie had come to visit, Gran had asked her to teach Ada how to knit as a way to help her lower her stress about school. “I totally forgot.”

“I still knit occasionally, but when school is in, I don’t do much.”

They were halfway through packaging the kits when the doorbell sounded. Ada went to the door and peeked out the window. She looked over her shoulder with a grin on her face. “It’s Clarence.”

Gracie straightened. She hurriedly smoothed her clothes. Did she forget that he was coming over?

“You look great,” Ada said with a laugh, and she opened the door.

Gracie didn’t have time to respond before Clarence stepped in, a small bag in his hand. “Hi.” He looked around. “I probably should have called first.”

Ada waved a hand. “It’s okay.”

Gracie pressed a hand to her stomach. “What brings you by?”

He held up the bag. It was Ms. Lila’s knitting project bag. “I told Grandma Lila I was going to be at a meeting nearby, and she asked me to bring her scarf for you to fix.”

Gracie laughed. “Let me see.” She took the bag from Clarence, walked to the sofa, and sat. Studying the knitting, she smiled. Ms. Lila knitted beautifully, but she would often get distracted while talking and forget what she was doing. “Oh, this is an easy fix. Shouldn’t take more than ten minutes. Would you like to sit? Unless you have to go.” Her tone came out more disappointed than she meant.

“No. I already went to the meeting.” He sat next to her on the sofa.

The knitting slipped out of her hand and she fumbled as she picked it back up. “I just need to fix one row.”

“Grandma tried to explain to me what to tell you was wrong with it.” Clarence looked sheepish. “Honestly, it was like she was speaking another language. Finally, I just asked her if you would know what to do.”

Gracie laughed. “Knitters have their own secret language. Crocheters too.”

“Like a secret club.” Clarence leaned over, watching her work.

“Yes, but it’s easy to get in the club. All you have to do is learn how to knit.” She tinked back the whole row and smiled at the thought of teaching her children’s class that the word tink was just knit backward. Tinking was undoing the stitches.

“I’ve always found it fascinating.” His voice was very close to her ear.

“I can teach you.” Gracie lifted her head to look at him, but he was still leaning over. Their noses were inches from each other. Her face flamed, and she turned her attention back to the knitting.

“I think I might like that.”

Gracie had lived in the house for one month. Hard to believe. Especially since living here nearly drowned her daily. The grief was heavy. However, she somehow kept the sadness at bay. She couldn’t be sad. She had a promise to fulfill, and that promise had kept her moving.

The fact that the house didn’t look like it did when Gran lived there helped too. Then there was the brick wall and the door. Although it had been there for decades, discovering it brought a newness to living in the space. More than once, like she was doing now, Gracie caught herself staring at the wall in wonder. If the house was used for a station on the Underground Railroad, was the brick exposed at the time? Did people come to this house and wonder what was behind the door?

Most of all, how did the owners of the house keep their work hidden? That would have been a deadly secret to keep.

She looked away from the wall and continued to put yarn in the cube shelving. The shop wasn’t complete, but she did want it to resemble a shop when the kids’ knitting class began.

As she organized the cubes by colorway, the doorbell rang. With a skein of yarn still in her hand, she went to the door. Ms. Lila. Gracie peered behind her, looking for Clarence, and sighed with disappointment when she didn’t see him. Cut it out, she chided herself. Clarence didn’t have to accompany Ms. Lila every time.

She opened the door, her smile bright. “Hi, Ms. Lila.”

“Look at that.” Ms. Lila looked past her. “It looks like you’re almost ready to open.” She took slow steps to the middle of room, eyeing the yarn in Gracie’s hand. “These are some great colorways. I may need to knit Clarence another hat.”

Gracie fought the urge to snap to attention at Clarence’s name. Instead, she closed the door and calmly said, “Oh, does he like hats?”

“He likes to stay warm. You know he spent all them years in Atlanta. Ain’t used to the cold anymore.” She sat on the sofa. “He would appreciate anything handmade and warm.”

Noted. “To what do I owe this visit?”

Ms. Lila sat up taller. “I—I thought I would stop by.”

Then Gracie remembered. Mother Bethel’s prayer shawl ministry met every first Friday of the month. Gran and Ms. Lila often spent the majority of the day together, starting with lunch and ending with a trip to the church. Gracie’s heart ached. Gran was loved by so many people, and so many people bore the pain of grief from losing her. “It’s the perfect time. How about some lunch?”

Ms. Lila gave her a wistful smile. “I would like that.”

“I don’t have much food, but we can order something to be delivered.”

Ms. Lila waved her hand. “As long as you do it. I can’t figure out these food delivery services for nothing.”

Laughing, Gracie picked up her phone and ordered two chicken and quinoa bowls from a local eatery and sat down next to Ms. Lila.

“While we’re talking ‘bout food, I want to invite you and Ada to Thanksgiving dinner.”

Gracie sucked in a breath. Thanksgiving was two weeks away. “I totally forgot. Gran normally …” The rest of the sentence withered on her lips.

“I know. That’s why I’m asking. I’m pretty certain your uncle isn’t going to invite you to his house.”

Gracie chuckled. “Probably not.”

“It would be my pleasure to have you.” Ms. Lila squeezed her hand. “I told Clarence, and he thought it would be nice for you to come too.”

Gracie looked down to hide her blush. “Well, if it’s no trouble, I’ll talk to Ada. Do you need us to bring anything?”

“Just yourselves.”

Determined not to cry, Gracie smiled. “Thank you.”

“Now tell me how this shop is going.” Ms. Lila opened the bag she carried with her and pulled out a hat knit almost to the crown.

Gracie stared at it. “What happened to the scarf you were knitting? The one Clarence brought over for me to fix?”

Ms. Lila waved her hand like she was clearing the air. “I made a mistake I couldn’t figure out and put it in time-out.”

“You know I could have helped you.” Gracie laughed. That was one thing she loved about Ms. Lila. She lived life on her own terms, like Gran. It was clear why they were such great friends. Would she be as fearless when she reached their season of life?

“Yes, but you’re doing the house thing and getting the shop ready to open. How is that going, by the way?”

She told Ms. Lila about her trip to Clarence’s office and about the taxes.

“Do you need help with that?” Ms. Lila asked while knitting round and round.

Gracie gaped. “No. It’s my responsibility. I can handle it.” Just barely.

Ms. Lila looked at her over her glasses. “Don’t let me find out that you lost the house because you couldn’t pay the taxes.”

“I—I can handle it, Ms. Lila. I can.” Even if she couldn’t, she would find another way than to ask Ms. Lila. How would Clarence feel about her taking money from his grandmother? If something was starting between them, it would be over.

Stop it. There is nothing starting between you and him.

Ms. Lila shook her head and let out a huff. “You are as stubborn as your grandmother.”

Gracie shifted in her seat. “Gran was stubborn.”

“So are you.” She leaned over and touched Gracie’s hand. “And I know you will fight for this house as hard as Marian did.”

Gracie frowned. “I thought Gran already owned the house from her mother? Why would she have to fight?”

Ms. Lila leaned back and laughed. “Let me tell you about your Gran. Years back, this man came round, wanting to buy all the properties on this block, including the school.”

Gracie leaned forward. “Even this house?”

Ms. Lila nodded. “He wanted to turn everything into high-rise condos. He put a lot of pressure on some of the older residents on the street. Threw a lot of money at them. But your Gran wouldn’t budge.”

“What happened?”

“The developer bought some of the properties on the block but a few others wouldn’t sell either. The property company owns half the block, and they never built the condos. Your Gran stood toe to toe with them. Even threatened to sue them if they didn’t leave her alone.”

Gracie went to the counter where she had left the socks she was knitting. Knitting them two at a time, a technique where both socks were on the same needles, allowed her to finish them quickly. She would have to cast on something else soon. “That sounds like Gran.”

The food arrived, and they had a pleasant lunch together. She peppered Ms. Lila with as many questions as she could about Gran.

“I’ve been wanting to say this for a while,” Ms. Lila said, picking up her knitting again. “Marian would have been very proud of you. So would your mother.”

Would they? She was past knowing with both of them, especially her mother. Rochelle McNeil was only a memory. And from what Gracie knew about her, her mother was a fighter like Gran. Gran had told her how she had argued with the doctors who didn’t believe how much pain she was in after she gave birth to Gracie. The pain would kill her. Rather, the blood clots that had formed in her legs and lungs would. No matter how hard she argued, no one believed her, and thrombosis had ended Rochelle McNeil’s life.

Gracie opened her mouth to reply, but nothing came out. Gran wouldn’t be proud of this mess. Couldn’t be. Gran managed her affairs with clarity and speed. Not forgetting to pick up the mail for months and paying the taxes late. Gran’s gift should have given her a new life. Instead, her life looked very much like her old one.

“I don’t think she would be proud.” Gracie took a shaky breath, tears brimming in her eyes.

“Oh, sweet girl, why wouldn’t she?” Ms. Lila put her knitting aside.

“Because—”was all Gracie could say before the tears started falling.

“Because you’re facing some challenges? That’s why she would be proud.”

Gracie tried to accept Ms. Lila’s words, to make them true and apply them to herself. But she failed. Like everything else. And now Gran wasn’t there to save her. Regardless of whatever life she had—dead-end jobs, no relationships to speak of, moving from one cheap apartment to the next and nearly being homeless—her life was better with Gran in it. Now Gran, like her mother, had gone to the sweet by-and-by and left Gracie in the grim here and now.