CHAPTER THIRTEEN

GRACIE

Something thumped in the room next to Gracie’s, and she came awake in alarm. Did Gran need her? She swung her legs out of bed and was almost to the door before reality caught up with her.

Gran didn’t need her any longer. She, however, needed Gran.

She shuffled back to her bed and flopped down, the beginnings of a headache building at the back of her neck. After her lunch with Ms. Lila, Gran had been stuffed into her thoughts like she’d filled the cubes with yarn. Memories stacked on top of each other, each one a different color and hue.

Gran telling her the family tree. Gran frying fish and hush puppies. Gran praising the few school accomplishments she’d had. Gran growing weaker and weaker. Gran taking her last breath. Gracie had been there for that. It had been a suspended moment of painlessness. A brief flash before the sharp anguish hit. A second of seeing Gran without pain and Gracie not feeling the pain yet.

She groaned. If her thoughts continued like this, she would spend the day crying.

She showered and then went into the small kitchen. The noise she’d heard was Ada getting breakfast.

Ada gave her a crooked smile. “Good morning?”

Gracie chuckled. “Do I look that bad?”

Ada looked her up and down. “Yes.”

Gracie, laughing, pushed Ada aside to get to the coffee. Gracie hadn’t expected it, but Ada brought with her a measure of comfort. Gracie had been on her own for so long that she forgot how nice it was to share a space with someone. She had lived with Gran until the end, but that was different. She was Gran’s caregiver. She was Ada’s cousin and, maybe, friend.

“You’re up early,” Gracie said, then second-guessed herself. Ada had slept until well after ten the previous week. “I mean, you aren’t normally up this early.”

“When I’m not in class, I sleep as late as I can. My first class is at nine,” she said, looking over at Gracie. “Did I wake you?”

Gracie took a deep breath. “I thought you were Gran.”

Ada set her cup on the table. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Gracie said with a wave of her hand. “It’s like she’s all around. I can’t help but think of her.”

“I know.”

Gracie gave Ada a watery smile and moved to toast a bagel. “It’s good that I’m up. I need to prepare the last of the materials for the kids’ knitting class.”

Ada popped the lid on her travel coffee cup. “I don’t have class tomorrow, so I can help you with whatever’s left.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I know. I want to. This is exciting.”

Gracie laughed. “I’m not going to refuse help. I also need to finish filling out the nomination application. And figure out how to pay the taxes.”

Ada turned. “I thought you said you could handle the taxes.”

“I can,” Gracie tried to say confidently, but her voice squeaked. “It’s just that I’ll have to use the money I had set aside to finish setting up the shop. I still have to pay the contractors.”

“You should talk to the family about using the estate money to pay off the taxes.”

Gracie was shaking her head before Ada finished speaking. “The house is my responsibility now.”

Ada moved closer. “Yes, now. But Gran was still alive when the first tax bill was issued. That makes it her estate bill.”

Gracie looked down at her coffee cup. That made sense. “I can see how that could be true.”

Ada put her hand on Gracie’s shoulder. “It is true. Talk to the family. You already have my vote, and I’m sure my brother and Natalia will agree. I’ll talk to Bernard for you.”

Gracie didn’t point out that Ada had omitted her father. “I guess I could call Natalia and Uncle Rand …”

The words hung in the air, and Gracie appreciated that Ada didn’t try and sugarcoat Uncle Rand’s reaction. She only patted her on the shoulder and said another one of Gran’s favorite sayings. “Go with God.”

Gracie exhaled. God was going to have to help her.

She waited until Ada left and called Natalia. As expected, Natalia agreed with Ada and gave her consent for the taxes to be paid from the estate account. Then Gracie immediately called Uncle Rand. No sense wasting the boost of courage Natalia’s approval had given her. She pushed her shoulders back and listened to the phone ring.

On the third ring, Uncle Rand answered. “Hello, Gracie.”

“Hi, Uncle Rand,” she said in an airy tone that belied the tension between them. “How are you?”

“I’m fine,” he said, his tone sharp, like he was offended that she asked. “Have you called to tell me what you told Ada about the house?”

Gracie grimaced. “Not exactly, but I do need to ask you something.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yes, I—”

“I’ll be home all day.”

Gracie opened her mouth to speak, but all she managed was “Uh …”

“What time will you be here? Later is better.”

She gritted her teeth. This didn’t warrant her driving all the way to Uncle Rand’s house. Why did he have to needle her like this? But he probably knew she needed him. “How about two o’clock?”

“Okay,” he said and ended the call.

While completing a few tasks, she tried not to dwell on her annoyance, but she wasn’t able to rid herself of her irritation before she arrived at Uncle Rand’s house. Just as she climbed out of the car, she got a text from Ada saying Bernard was okay with paying the taxes from the estate funds. She stretched out the walk to the front door in slow steps. She rang the bell and waited.

After a minute, he opened the door, not smiling. “I can’t talk to you long. I have a meeting.”

Then why did you agree to this time? Gracie tramped down a groan. “I’ll be quick.”

“Hopefully quicker than it took you to walk from your car,” he said, closing the door.

She rolled her eyes while his back was turned and bypassed the closet. She didn’t want to stay any longer than Uncle Rand wanted her to.

As she walked to the sofa, Gracie noted how quiet the house was. It had always been that way, even when she was a kid. Her aunt and uncle never explicitly said that she couldn’t be loud, but the command hung in the air, wordless, sucking the sound out of the house.

“What do you need to talk to me about?” Uncle Rand sat in the armchair, and Gracie sat on the sofa.

She fiddled with the buttons on her coat but got straight to the point. “I need to ask you if you would be okay with using Gran’s estate money to pay the taxes on the house.”

“Taxes?” he repeated. The word cut through the air, and she resisted the urge to flinch.

“Yes.”

Uncle Rand leaned back. His expression changed from a hard stare to amusement. “You didn’t pay the taxes?”

“They were due last December.” She let out a shaky breath. “I will take care of the current taxes, but I think last year’s taxes should be paid by the estate.”

His expression changed in a blink from amusement to anger. “I told you the house is your responsibility. That hasn’t changed. I know my mother left you money. Use that to pay the taxes.”

Gracie moved to shift on the sofa but realized she was perched on the edge with nowhere to go. “All the other heirs of the estate have agreed to pay the taxes from the estate money.”

“You went behind my back to manipulate everyone else like you did my mother?” He was near yelling now, his voice booming in the small room.

“I haven’t manipulated anyone!” Anger forced the words out of her mouth louder than she wanted.

Uncle Rand studied her for a second, shock in his features.

She broke eye contact and stared at her fisted hands in her lap. “I would have liked to get your agreement on this, but you are in the minority. I don’t actually need your approval now.”

“My mother used to tell us how special that house was. That it had been owned outright by the family for several generations. That it was special and always needed to stay in the family. And now we’re in danger of losing it because of your carelessness.”

She flinched but then pushed the sting of his words from her mind. She remembered Ms. Lila saying that her mother and Gran were fighters. She could pretend to be like them. “Uncle Rand, I’m going to pay the taxes this week. We are not losing the house.”

“The current taxes are your problem. You will have to pay them yourself. I don’t have any more money to throw away on you.”

I’m not asking for help on the current taxes. One would think she hadn’t repaid the loan he’d given her all those years ago. “I know, Uncle Rand.”

She let herself out the front door, her emotions raw.

The tax statements were still spread on Gracie’s wobbly coffee table. Right where she had left them. She had meant to take care of them yesterday, but after her meeting with Uncle Rand, she had gone straight to her room and closed the door.

She sighed and rubbed her eyes, grumbling at the morning sunlight that brightened the room. Her mind kept replaying her conversation with Uncle Rand. Particularly the part about her carelessness. She was careless not to think of the mail and the taxes. Something so basic. Something that could cause her to lose the house.

Gran had kept meticulous records and handled her business with decisiveness and urgency. Over the months since she died, it was clear that Gran had done all she could to make Gracie’s possession of the house go smoothly, including putting the house in a living trust. That made sure the rest of the family couldn’t contest it going to Gracie. It also meant Gracie could move in before Gran’s estate was settled.

Gracie shuffled over to the sofa and sat in front of the table. She set the tax notices aside and grabbed the folder with all of the other paperwork from Gran’s estate. She lifted the top sheet. It was a receipt and warranty for a refrigerator. Not only had Gran written down the date that she purchased the refrigerator but she wrote down the date and time it was delivered and the first names of the delivery people.

Gracie couldn’t help but chuckle. Gran’s notes. She had kept them for everything. When Gracie was younger, Gran had sent detailed notes to Gracie’s father after Gracie stayed over for the weekend. Whenever Gracie went shopping for Gran, she would leave the house with a very detailed grocery list. One of the phrases Gracie heard often from Gran was, “Let me jot that down.” When Gracie would go to Gran’s doctor’s appointment, all the doctor’s comments went into a little journal that Gran kept. Gracie had had to learn Gran’s note-taking system once Gran got too sick to take the notes herself.

When she paid the taxes, she would do what Gran did. Add notes.

Gracie wrote two checks, one from the estate account to cover the previous year’s taxes, the other from her personal account. Not wanting to leave anything to chance, Gracie decided she would drive the checks for the taxes down to the Office of Property Assessment.

Ada came to the door with her phone pressed to her ear and a frown on her face. She looked in at Gracie and mouthed, My father. Gracie slumped back on the couch. Uncle Rand’s timing was synonymous with a headache.

“Okay, I’m coming,” Ada said, her voice tight. She ended the call.

“My father is outside, and he wants to talk to me.”

“Did he say what about?”

Ada huffed and started down the stairs. “I don’t know. But he’s mad about something.”

Gracie stayed where she was for another minute, not knowing whether to pray, scream, or hide. She decided on praying for Ada.

She put the checks into a plain envelope. The Office of Property Assessment had a way to pay the bill online, but she thought it was best to create a paper trail. Maybe for the next person who would own the house. It would be a part of the house’s history. Who knew how much more stressed she would be if she didn’t have Gran’s paperwork.

Raised voices caught her attention. Ada and Uncle Rand.

Gracie rose and went to the top of the stairs. She couldn’t completely make out what they were arguing about, but she did hear her name a couple of times. It was probably wiser to stay out of this and let Ada handle her father. But Ada had to be really upset to raise her voice. She might need the support.

When Gracie reached the bottom of the stairs, she heard Ada say, “Dad—” But that was all she could manage before he hurtled inside.

He spotted Gracie and crossed the space between them with more speed than she thought he could. “I don’t know what you’re doing to my daughter, but I won’t allow it,” he nearly snarled.

Ada let out an exasperated huff. “My father thinks you’re brainwashing me.”

“For the last time, I’m not brainwashing anyone. Not Ada and not Gran.” Gracie kept her voice as calm as she could.

His hot glare bore down on her. “You convinced her to let you use the estate money for the taxes you should pay. What else are you saying to her?”

“Really, Dad. I’m a grown woman,” Ada said.

Uncle Rand whipped around to face Ada. “Did she ask you for money? If she did, don’t give it to her.” His fists were clenched at his side. He turned back to Gracie. “Then again, if you don’t give her money, she’ll probably sell the house and waste the proceeds from the sale.”

Ada sighed. “Look around, Dad. Does it look like she’s selling the house?”

He did look around, starting with all the yarn and ending with the wall that held the secret door, still without drywall or a countertop.

“What on earth?” He took tentative steps toward the wall. “What did you do?”

Gracie tried to feel brave, but her words came out with a warble. “I removed the drywall.”

She waited for his angry retort, but he didn’t say a word. He only walked to the door and touched it. In a voice that Gracie had to strain to hear, he said, “I never knew this was here.”

Gracie glanced at Ada, who was wearing a look of real sympathy. The same feeling settled in Gracie’s chest. She remembered Ada telling her that Uncle Rand was grieving Gracie’s mother. Now he was grieving his own. “I didn’t either. I just found out when I tried to secure the countertop to the wall.”

Uncle Rand looked at her, then to the kitchen. “Two doors to the root cellar. That doesn’t make sense.”

Is this the right thing to do? “It doesn’t go to the root cellar,” Gracie said. Ada gawked at her.

His gaze snapped to her. “Where else could it go?”

Gracie picked up the flashlight that had come to live right by the wall, and she opened the door. She flicked the flashlight on. “Let me show you.”

She went down the stairs first. Uncle Rand and Ada followed. At the bottom of the steps, Gracie shone the beam so that the majority of the little room could be seen.

“I—” Uncle Rand looked back up the stairs. “What is this?”

Gracie peered at him through the dim light. Maybe this was a chance to repair their relationship. Something that could bring them closer. “Maybe a room used on the Underground Railroad.”

Uncle Rand gasped as if she had struck him. “What?”

Gracie explained about William Still’s house being across the street and how she was working with someone at the Philadelphia Historical Commission to find out if Gran’s house had also been used for the same purpose. Then she waited in silence.

She could hear Uncle Rand’s breathing, almost panting. Looking around the room, she tried to imagine what it must have been like for runaways if they stayed here. Only a few at a time could have fit in the room. It seemed crowded with just her, Ada, and Uncle Rand in it. But the relief they must have felt. To have traveled hundreds if not thousands of miles to get here. To know that after this, freedom would begin. Their difficult path wouldn’t have been over yet. They would have to avoid getting caught or continue to move north. But this room could have been the first step in the journey.

How precious that must have been.

Still imagining, she didn’t notice that Uncle Rand had wheeled around to her. When she did, his anger snapped her back to the present. “And my mother left this house to you?”

“She—”

“You don’t deserve this.” His voice was a tight string. Controlled but seething.

“Dad,” Ada said. Her tone had a note of warning.

He turned to Ada. “She doesn’t. She has never done anything to deserve this. She wasted the life her mother died to give her.”

His words seared and sliced through what little peace Gracie had. She staggered back a step. She opened her mouth to say something, anything, but only a sob came out. What was she supposed to do? Say it isn’t true. But it was. She didn’t deserve this. She didn’t deserve to own Gran’s house, and she certainly didn’t deserve to own a station house of the Underground Railroad.

She rushed past him and Ada, handing Ada the flashlight as she went.

“Gracie!” Ada called out from behind her.

Gracie bolted up the stairs to her room, where she fell on her bed and sobbed.