CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

GRACIE

Gracie couldn’t wait any longer to ask Mia about the bag. It was clear that she and Ada had not misplaced it, and there were no other customers in and out of the store. That didn’t leave many other explanations. It was not something she wanted to do, but she had to find out. She knew that talking to Mia was going to take some delicacy. Gracie needed to ask about the bag but not accuse her of stealing it. Before the girls started to arrive, Ada helped her rehearse what she wanted to say.

Mia came in, actually smiling. “Hi, Ms. Gracie.” She swung the bag Gracie had given her on her wrist. “Wait till you see how far I got.”

“Hi, Mia.” Gracie nodded at her father. “Head on back.”

Mia grinned and bounded back, but when she reached the place where the bag had been, she slowed and stared.

A warning note sounded in Gracie’s heart. The other girls’ arrivals didn’t give her much time to process the feeling.

When Gracie rounded the corner to start class, which now was no more than instructions on fixing mistakes, Mia had already taken out her knitting. She wasn’t acting like she’d stolen the bag. It could be a performance, but how many thirteen-year-olds could act that well? She decided to talk to Mia’s father. If the girl hadn’t taken the bag, she would promptly go back into her shell if Gracie accused her.

Bella looked up at Gracie and let out a whine. “I messed up again. And mine doesn’t look like Mia’s.”

“I can help you,” Mia said.

“No.” Bella’s tone was sharp. But when she saw the stern look Gracie shot in her direction, she sputtered, “I think the teacher should teach.”

Mia shrugged. “Whatever.”

Gracie moved to Bella’s side and looked at the stitches. They were mounted on the needles backward. “Did your knitting come off the needles?”

Bella gave her a pleading look. “Yes, and I tried to put them back. I need a better bag. A bag like Mia’s.”

Trinity looked up from concentrating on her knitting. “You told me your cat pulled it off.”

“If that’s true,” Gracie said, studying the girl, “then a better bag wouldn’t help you.”

“Just ask your mother to buy you one,” Rylee said. “Didn’t she just buy you that—”

Bella spoke over her. “I did ask my mother.”

Rylee gave her a skeptical look. “Your mother told you no. That’s new, I guess.”

“Well, this is a perfect opportunity to teach you how to put your stitches back on your needles correctly.” Gracie moved to the head of the table to a sample she was using to demonstrate stitches. She picked it up, pulled the stitches off the needles, and undid a couple of stitches in the middle of the piece.

Dani let out a gasp.

Gracie laughed. “Rule number one to fixing your stitches: don’t be afraid of mistakes. Come around and see what I’m doing.”

All the girls gathered around her, Dani still looking slightly horrified, and listened to her explain how to fix the mistakes.

Mia huffed. “You make it look so easy.”

“With a little time and patience, any mistake can be fixed.” What a true statement. With all the mistakes she had made in her early life, time and patience had put her in a better place. Much better.

Mia looked down at the sample. “Not all of them.”

“Yeah, you can’t keep failing at math and bring your mistakes in for Ms. Gracie to fix.”

Mia jumped like she had been pinched. She scowled at Bella. “Mind your own business.”

“Girls,” Gracie said, “if you don’t follow the community kindness rules, I will have to ban you from the class.”

Mia sulked back to her seat. “Go ahead and ban her. She’s going to say something else anyway.”

Gracie schooled her face. Mia had all the sass Gracie had when she was her age. “Last warning.”

The rest of the class went well. Bella and Mia didn’t take any more swipes at each other. Dani practiced putting the stitches back on the needles of Gracie’s sample. When they started packing up to leave, Mia excused herself to use the bathroom.

As soon as she was out of sight, Bella eased up to Gracie’s chair. “I wanted to warn you, Ms. Gracie. Mia has been getting into a lot of trouble at school.”

Gracie looked at the girl. Did Bella really think she was going to fall for this? “I’m sure it isn’t your place to tell me that.”

“It is. Because what if she starts being bad here?”

“Then, as the adult, I will handle it.” Gracie smiled brightly. “Why don’t you tell me how you’re doing in school?”

“Huh?”

“How are your grades?”

“She’s failing math too,” Destiny cried out, and she and Rylee laughed.

Like Mia said. Mean girls.

Bella huffed and returned to her seat, obviously done with the conversation.

To Gracie’s relief, all the parents showed up at once. She ushered the other four girls and their mothers out the door but stopped Stanley. “Can I speak to you for a moment?”

“Sure.” His expression grew wary.

“After the last class, did Mia come home with something—” She didn’t want to put the idea in his head if Mia hadn’t taken the bag. “With something she didn’t have before?”

He looked perplexed. “The red bag? I thought you gave it to her.”

“I did. But did she have anything else?”

She could see the moment Stanley realized what she was asking him. His face went from confused to angry. “Mia, did you steal something?” he yelled across the room.

Mia whipped around. “Steal—no, no I didn’t.”

“No, no. Stanley, I’m not saying she stole something.” She’d deviated from what she and Ada had practiced but not by much. She should have factored in the family difficulties Stanley and Mia were having. She knew about them, and she knew her own life. How her family’s dysfunction had crept into her behavior.

“Yes, you are. Mia?”

“I didn’t steal anything, Daddy.”

He turned to Gracie and pulled out his wallet. “Whatever she stole, I’ll replace it.”

Not a two-hundred-dollar leather bag. “Wait one second. I’m not saying she stole it. I’m asking—”

Mia’s eyes grew wide. “The red bag.”

Stanley huffed. “You do know about it?”

“I asked for it because it was nice.” The poor girl looked like she was ready to cry. “But I didn’t take it.”

“Then why does Ms. Gracie think you did?”

This was not going how she planned. Gracie held up her hand. “Stop. I just need to figure out what happened to it. Mia might have thought it was okay to take it because I’d given her the other one.”

Mia folded her arms. “Why would it be okay to take a two-hundred-dollar bag? Which I didn’t take, by the way.”

Stanley paled. “Two hundred dollars?”

“Daddy, I didn’t take the bag.” Mia rushed across the room “Ms. Gracie, I didn’t take it. I wouldn’t do that. I like it a lot, but I didn’t take it. I love the bag you gave me.”

“She does love it. Showed it to anyone who would look at it,” Stanley muttered.

Gracie looked down at the girl. She was probably getting duped, but she didn’t believe Mia had taken the bag. “All right. I believe you.”

Mia let out a sigh, her shoulders sinking. “I promise I didn’t take it.”

Stanley harrumphed. “Let’s go, Mia.”

Mia let her arms drop beside her and shuffled out the door.

“I am so sorry,” Stanley said as they reached the door. “I’ll check her room. I’ll find the bag.”

“Please don’t. I believe her.”

“You don’t understand. Mia has been trouble since …” He looked out the door at Mia, who was leaning to look at something down the street.

“I was trouble all through school.” She touched his arm. “And I still may be trouble. I’m not bothered, and I do believe her.”

He gave a sad smile. “I guess I should have hope since you turned out well.”

“Not quite. I’m still a work in progress. But I do believe Mia. Please don’t be too hard on her. She’s dealing with a lot, just like you are.”

Stanley looked over at Mia. “Work in progress.”

Gracie nodded. “Absolutely.”

She watched them go, praying she hadn’t just made Mia’s life worse.

Clarence arrived at the house as scheduled on Tuesday morning. Seeing him boosted her mood a little. The fact that she had handled the Mia situation so badly had saddened her. She greeted Clarence at the door with a tight hug.

He held her close, like he knew she needed it. When they separated, he looked down at her. “Are you all right?”

“I had a tough situation to deal with this weekend.”

“Is it resolved?”

She shook her head, remembering the hurt on Mia’s face. “Not yet. But I hope it will be soon.”

“If you need help, I’m here.”

She hugged him again to hide her face. She knew he would help her if he could. Having more than Gran to help was a new feeling. Now she had Ada, Clarence, and Ms. Lila. “I know.”

When they broke the embrace, he grinned at her. “Are you ready for this adventure?”

“Yes,” she said, letting herself smile. She was allowed some joy in all this.

He laughed. “You’re a little too happy for someone about to strain her eyes looking at maps and barely legible records.”

“But I’m about to find out about this house. That’s exciting.”

Once in his car, she asked where they were going. “First stop, the library,” he said.

She looked at him quizzically. “Really?”

“Yes. I hope you have a library card.” He navigated his car out of the parking space in front of her house and turned left, slowing as they passed William Still’s house.

Gracie stared at it with a mix of emotions. Even if her house turned out to be just a house with an extra-large root cellar, it was amazing to think that she was living this close to a real historical location. “I don’t. I haven’t had the chance to get a library card.”

He reached over and squeezed her hand. “Easily fixed. You can get one while you’re there.”

As they drove, Gracie fell silent, remembering the field trips she and Gran went on around the city. She smiled as they passed Love Park and City Hall.

“I don’t know any city in the country that has better architecture than Philadelphia.” Clarence stole glances at City Hall with its dome and columns as they passed.

“I always loved the way there was a little bit of everything here. From City Hall to the modern condos to Freedom Park.” A shadow of sadness clouded Gracie’s heart. She missed Gran and her love for this city. Most of the things Gracie knew about Philadelphia history she knew because Gran had told her.

They arrived at the Parkway Central Branch and parked nearby. As they walked over the large circular area in front of the building, Clarence held her hand, and she grinned at the way his shoulder kept brushing hers.

“Why are we coming here first?”

“Because this branch has been in the Federal Depository Library Program since 1897. Older city records are held here. Ones older than the property taxation site can provide.”

They walked into the grand marble foyer, and although people were milling around, the area was hushed. It felt sacred.

“First things first.” He led her over to the information desk and informed them that Gracie had just moved to town and needed a library card.

The woman at the desk beamed. “Absolutely.” She handed Gracie a form. Gracie filled it out, handed the woman her ID and form back, and within a few minutes she had a library card.

She beamed at Clarence, who gave her a knowing look. “Pretty fantastic.”

From there he led her to the government record department. A tall, lean man with skin the color of her gran’s heavy brown family Bible looked up and smiled at Clarence. “Mr. Evans. Good to see you again.”

Clarence shook his hand. “Same here. Mr. Moore, this is Ms. Gracie McNeil.”

Mr. Moore gave her the same warm handshake. “Nice to meet you.” He looked at Clarence. “What are we looking for today? You give me the best challenges.”

“Actually, Gracie has a challenge for you.”

Mr. Moore beamed at her. “She looks like she has a good one.”

Gracie laughed. “I don’t know. I would think it was hard.”

“Those are the good ones,” Mr. Moore said with a chuckle.

“All right then. I want to trace the ownership of my grandmother’s house.” Mr. Moore’s enthusiasm made her feel more hopeful.

“Hmm. Sounds promising.” Mr. Moore leaned toward her, peering over his glasses. “How far back?”

“Mid-1800s?” Gracie’s words came out more as a question than a statement.

Mr. Moore’s smile returned. “Yes, she’s got a good one.” He motioned for them to follow him.

He led them to a large, glass-enclosed room with long study tables. It reminded Gracie of Clarence’s archives. “The first thing we need to start with is the address.”

When Gracie told him, his eyebrows rose. “That’s up the street from William Still’s house.”

“Yes,” she said cautiously.

“That makes it a little easier. I’ve pulled the Still records for Mr. Evans so many times that I almost have them memorized. How far back do you have information about the house’s ownership?”

“When my great-grandparents owned it in the 1930s.”

“Then we’ll start with property deeds and ward maps.”

Clarence nodded. “Good idea.” He turned to Gracie as Mr. Moore walked back to the stacks. “Before 1854 the city was divided into townships and boroughs. They consolidated them into ward maps. That information isn’t necessarily listed on the deed, unless you happen to have a copy of your great-great-grandparents’ deed.”

She shook her head. “If Gran had that paperwork, she didn’t give it to me.”

Mr. Moore returned, giving her a reassuring smile. “That’s okay. You have one of the best researchers in the city right beside you. If information is recorded, he will find it. I’ll check in on you in a bit.”

Clarence proved every bit as helpful as Mr. Moore thought he would be. He understood the ward maps’ numbering system. Since her house was so close to William Still’s house, he already knew what ward it was in.

Mr. Moore returned after twenty minutes. “Ms. McNeil, I thought you might leave the heavy research to Clarence and do something a little closer to your heart.”

She looked up at him. “What’s that?”

“Why don’t we find the rest of your family in the birth records?”

To her surprise, tears sprang to her eyes. The offer to search for her family made her feel connected despite all that the past year had brought. She sniffled, and Clarence gave her hand a squeeze. “I would like that.”

Mr. Moore took her to a bank of desks with a microfiche machine, computers, squares of scrap paper, and pencils on them. “I think the best place to start is with ancestry records.” He motioned for her to sit at one of the computers. “We have access to some of the top online ancestry sites, but many of them are user managed and only go so far. Once we go as far as we can, we’ll switch to microfiche.”

He logged her on to one of the sites. “You will have to trace your family members backward to get the names you don’t have.”

Gracie looked up. “I actually already have a couple of generations.” She lifted one of the slips of scrap paper and listed the names Gran had drilled into her.

Mr. Moore’s eyebrows rose with surprise. “This goes significantly faster when you have names. Good luck.”

When he was gone, Gracie clicked on the first ancestry site listed and typed in her own name to test how much information she would be getting. She held her breath as the returns flashed onto the screen. There was her name and the long list of residencies she’d held in Richmond. Next, she typed in Uncle Rand’s name. It returned with more info than the search on her name did. Aunt Elle, Bernard, and Ada were listed along with Uncle Rand’s military service.

Uncle Rand was a mystery to her. Whenever she saw him on his visits to Gran’s house, he didn’t talk to her more than necessary to be polite. But she had watched him with his children and Gran. He was very different with them. Laughing, talking. Someone Gracie didn’t know, with a personality that dried up whenever he addressed her. After Gran died, Gracie had prayed that their shared grief would bring them closer, but it didn’t. Uncle Rand only became more distant.

She closed that search with a sigh and typed in her mother’s name. The sting of seeing that the first listing was her obituary nearly took her breath away. She swiped tears from her cheeks and read it once again.

Her mother gone. Gran gone. The longer she stared at the screen, the more the pain of loss increased. If only she could have them both back. Have them back and not have their deaths searing her heart.

She noticed movement from the corner of her eye. She looked up and saw Clarence standing a few steps away. When she made eye contact, he came to the desk. “I didn’t want to interrupt.”

“I don’t think I can do this.”

He leaned over and looked at the screen. “Oh.”

She stood. “No, I can’t do this.”

He took her hand. “Then let’s look at some ward maps.”

She followed Clarence back to the table with the maps, but now that the tears had started, she couldn’t get them to stop. By the time they reached the table, she was sobbing. Clarence navigated them into an empty row, put his arms around her, and held her close enough that she could feel his heart beating. Shame crept up her neck. Why did I think I could do this?

Clarence nuzzled his face into her hair. “Do you want to go?”

She sagged, more tears. She should be strong. She should stay. “Yes.”

“Okay,” he whispered.

He left her standing in the row while he went and spoke to Mr. Moore. As he talked, Mr. Moore looked up at her with pity, at least that’s what it looked like, on his face.

Clarence returned. “You ready?”

She nodded and took his hand, humiliation tingeing every step. Clarence didn’t release her hand until they got to the car. Gracie turned her head to the window and didn’t speak the whole ride back to the house. Clarence didn’t try to talk to her. He just walked her to her door, gave her a kiss on the cheek, and left.

Before she went inside, she looked up at the house. And just like the day she moved in, she didn’t want to go inside and face the memories.