CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

GRACIE

With joy bubbling in her heart, Gracie typed in an official grand opening date of her brick-and-mortar yarn store, Stitch Wishes. With the cloud of doubt lifted, she could get the shop ready for business.

She sat back in her office chair and grinned at the screen. This was really happening.

She could now turn her attention to planning the grand opening event. Ada was more than ready and had been throwing ideas around for days. Gracie didn’t know who was more excited. They both had let out a loud whoop when Preston finished installing the pegboard. They started putting the pegs and yarn up before he was done putting away his drill. They had also watched as a tech installed smart technology security cameras and a smart doorbell.

As Gracie watched the tech install the camera system control panel, she thought of all her family members who had lived in their house. Wondered what their lives were like. Wondered how they felt about how they lived. It was a nice daydream to wrap herself in.

When she and Clarence had talked over dinner, he told her he had only managed to trace the house deeds back to the 1920s. He was confident that he could keep going and find more. They had leaned over their notes in the restaurant, heads almost together. It wasn’t until later that she realized how right it felt. To be close to him, watching his eyes sparkle with excitement when he talked about the history of her family. How he would hold her hand or wrap his arm around her shoulders when they were walking together.

As if he knew she was thinking of him, he texted, GOOD MORNING.

Clarence was something she hadn’t expected in all the activity surrounding the house. She hadn’t anticipated how helpful he would be with her research. She also hadn’t anticipated how much she would love to be near him. That she would love him and he would love her.

GOOD MORNING, she texted back. HOW IS YOUR DAY GOING?

She turned on her computer and waited for his reply. Her heart beat faster when she read, SPENT THE MORNING THINKING OF YOU.

She grinned and was glad Ada wasn’t here to give her that knowing look she gave when Gracie talked about Clarence. BEEN THINKING ABOUT YOU TOO.

I’D BE INTERESTED TO HEAR WHAT YOU WERE THINKING. Then a pause. MR. MOORE CALLED ME. HE FOUND SOMETHING.

Gracie stared at the message. Unable to contain her excitement, she punched the call icon. “What did he find?” she asked as soon as he answered.

He chuckled, and she realized that was another thing she loved about him. “I knew you were going to call. He didn’t say, but he wanted to know when we would be at the library again.”

She stared at the list of things to do for the shop. It wasn’t that long. “Can we go this morning?”

He laughed again. “No, but I can go this afternoon. I’ve got to go and replace some high light bulbs in my grandmother’s house.”

“Oh, I can wait.” She tried not to sound disappointed.

“You know that you don’t have to wait for me.”

“I know.”

“All right. I’ll see you this afternoon. Love you.”

She paused.

He cleared his throat, and she could imagine his ears turning red. “Gracie?”

“Yes. I’m still here. Just not used to you telling me that you love me.”

“Oh, good. I thought maybe it was too much.”

“Uh, no. Just need to adjust to hearing it.”

“Okay. See you later. Love you. Might as well practice hearing it.”

She laughed. “Love you too.”

When it was close to his arrival time, she stood outside in front of the house. She was so ready to know what Mr. Moore had found that she didn’t want to wait for Clarence to park. As she stood there, she glanced over at William Still’s house. Would she ever stop being amazed at knowing such an incredible person had lived there? Amazed at all that had happened in that house?

She let out a small laugh. If Clarence’s suspicions were right, someday someone would stand looking at her house and think the same.

Clarence arrived, putting on his hazard lights long enough for her to climb in.

“Hey,” she said.

“Sorry to keep you waiting. It took a lot to convince my grandmother not to come along with us.”

“She could have come.”

“She may one day.”

The conversation died out, and Clarence drummed his fingers on his knee as he drove. It was as if they couldn’t talk about anything, the suspense taking their words. Clarence parked as close to the library as he could, and they walked at a quick pace to the door.

They arrived at the government records office desk, and Mr. Moore beamed when he saw them. “There you are. I’ve got something exciting to tell you.”

Instead of leading them to their normal spot at the tables, he picked up a folder and took them to a smaller room with just tables and closed the door behind them. “I did a little more digging on your family.”

Gracie sat. “You did?”

“There is so much information stored in this building that I can’t research it all, but when someone comes looking for family, it gives a focus to some research.”

“You didn’t have to do this for me,” Gracie said.

“I know, but Mr. Evans is a great asset to the historical community, and it was slow one day last week.” He sat next to her with a laugh.

Clarence sat on the other side of Gracie, scooting forward to see. He was close enough that she could lean back against his chest. “What did you find?”

He pulled out a piece of paper with a photo on it. In the photo were two rows of Black people, men and women. They wore stoic and serious expressions. “Last time Ms. McNeil was here, she wrote down her family’s names on a piece of paper. She left it on the desk, and I decided to search their names.”

The caption on the bottom of the photo read The Society for the Betterment of Orphans. “I think I found your great-great-great-grandmother.”

Gracie gasped. “You did?”

Mr. Moore nodded. “She served as a member on the society’s board.” He gave Gracie a look and pointed to the list of names under the picture. The third person in the top row was her great-great-great-grandmother, Elizabeth McDonald.

“But there is someone else of importance here.” He pointed to another woman in the picture. “Caroline Still.”

Gracie sucked in a breath. “Like William Still?”

Mr. Moore nodded. “His youngest daughter.”

Gracie lifted the paper, hand trembling. “This is amazing. I wish my gran—” A lump formed in her throat, and she bit back tears.

“That’s amazing. I never heard of this organization before,” Clarence said.

Mr. Moore grinned. “Me either. Back in the early 1800s, a lot of organizations popped up run by newly freed Blacks. This was one of them. They set out to battle the issue of orphans. Slavery had left many children without parents or unable to find theirs. The Civil War orphaned even more. It was a significant problem at the time.”

Clarence leaned over. “How long was this society in operation?”

“Ten years before it disbanded,” Mr. Moore said.

She pressed her hand to her heart. “I can’t believe it.”

“I wonder how she got involved in the group,” Clarence said.

“Me too,” Gracie said, searching her great-great-great-grandmother’s face for any hints of familiarity.

“There are not many records on the society, since it was one of the smaller ones, but there may be more. I’ll see what I can find,” Mr. Moore said.

After he left, Clarence whispered, “I think he’s on to us and why we’re looking for records. He’s a very observant man.”

“Will he tell anyone about this?”

“No. We can trust him. But I think he’s just as excited as we are.”

Gracie returned to the microfiche and continued her search. It took a little time to trace all the names she had recorded. She would have to compare the names to the names on any deeds Clarence found.

But after an hour of searching, she found herself at a dead end again. She’d nearly cheered when she found two records for her great-great-great-grandparents. One was for Cornelia Murray. Cornelia’s mother was listed as Beulah Murray, but that was where the records ended. No matter how she searched, she couldn’t find any information on her.

Mr. Moore returned, and Gracie told him what she had found. “But I can’t seem to find any records for Beulah Murray.”

Mr. Moore looked thoughtful. “There may be more information for you to find here, but I think with the proximity of your house to the Still house and this connection between your great-great-great-grandmother and Caroline Still, it’s time to introduce you to one of my friends—Ms. Darlis Quinn, the curator of the Still collection at Temple University.”

Clarence shook his head and smiled. “I suspected you were on to us.”

Mr. Moore gave him a sly look. “I figured it out the minute you told me the address.”

“Do you really think there could be more information?” Gracie asked.

“If there is anything anyone needs to know about William Still, it is that he kept meticulous records. So there is a good chance that there is more.” Mr. Moore jotted down Ms. Quinn’s number and handed it to Gracie. “Now, go and see what else we can find out.”