And, boy, did he have a lot of demands!
Fast-forward a couple years, and now he’s my partner in the P.I. business. Thanks in large part to his former owner, his name is Octavius Maxwell Ricardo Edmund Frederick Fulton Russo, Esq, P.I. Since that’s way longer than any honest name should be, I’ve taken to calling him Octo-Cat.
Together, we live in a beautiful manor home not too far from Blueberry Bay in Maine. Nan lives with us, too, as does her syrupy sweet rescue Chihuahua, Paisley. Our backyard neighbor is a sticky-fingered raccoon named Pringle; he helps us occasionally and bribes us regularly.
Never a dull moment with this colorful cast of sidekicks.
Of course, I’d be remiss if I failed to mention Charles Longfellow, III. He’s the senior partner at a local law firm, the same one I used to work at back in the day. He’s my boyfri—I mean,fianc?!
He’s my fianc?!
Wow, I still haven’t gotten used to saying that.
He proposed to me on a surprise weekend getaway that came with a rented RV and a crazy murder mystery. It was supposed to help me relax, but I’m honestly more wound up than ever.
Not just because of the proposal, but also because of what happened after we returned home.
A few months ago I made a deal to help some seagulls with an inter-flock dispute. In exchange, they promised to find my long-lost grandmother, whom I only knew about thanks to a hidden letter Pringle filched from the attic.
Nan—my best friend and the woman who raised me while my parents were busy focusing on their careers and each other—well, it turns out she’s not actually blood related.
I’m still getting over the shock from that particular revelation!
Needless to say, Nan has had a rough time accepting that I want to connect to the grandmother I never knew. I’ve taken every opportunity I can to reassure her, but it’s still hard. She didn’t choose for her best friend—my blood grandfather—to hand her his baby and ask her to run. Nan never asked why, and he died before I could suss out any answers. That leaves my long-lost grandmother as the only one who can explain why things happened the way they did.
I’ve got to find her and learn more about my family’s secret past. Yes, I’ve considered that she might be dangerous, especially considering the great lengths old grandpa went to get my mother away from her.
But I’m pretty sure I can handle a confrontation with an octogenarian, no matter how intimidating she may be.
Anyway, I tell you all this now because the seagulls have finally located my secret grandmother just outside of Katahdin.
And I’m preparing to go meet her for the first time ever. I’m so excited, I can hardly—
Deep breaths.
Okay, I’m scared out of my mind, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to pass up this opportunity. I mean, it’s like pulling off a bandage, right? I just have to do it if I ever expect the wound beneath to heal.
I stumbled into the kitchen, practically tripping over my oversized slippers as I moved from the hardwood of the dining room to the tile in the kitchen.
“Good morning,” Nan sang, floating over and pushing a banana-nut muffin into my hand. “I’ll put the coffee on now.”
“Thanks,” I murmured, shoving the muffin in the general direction of my mouth, and hoping it would end up in the right place. I’d never been a morning person. Even less so since developing my fear of electric coffee makers.
Don’t judge. I’m sure if you ever got electrocuted, you’d fear the appliance that attacked you, too.
I’d tried a million different caffeine solutions from canned coffee to instant powder, and most recently a French press. Nothing beat the freshly brewed stuff, though. It was the whole experience, really. The smell, the sound, all of it.
Thankfully, Nan was only too happy to aid in my addiction.
And so I munched on my baked good while she tidied up the kitchen and the coffee brewed. When it finished, Nan poured me a cup and mixed a bit of pumpkin spice flavored creamer in. It was one of her greatest joys to discover PSL off season, which meant it was always in season for me.
She allowed me to take a few life-giving sips before attempting a conversation. Smart woman.
“What have you got planned for today, dear?” she asked, pouring a cup for herself, and then drifting toward the living room.
I dutifully followed, shuffling my feet so that the little kitty heads on my slippers shook with each motion. Nan had purchased them for me as a Valentine’s gift, remarking how much the plush felines looked like Octo-Cat. I now wore them most days, partially because it made Nan happy and partially because it bugged my cat to no end.
“I should get slippers with little human heads attached. See how you like it,” the tabby muttered from atop the sofa, his tail flicking in tell-tale irritation.
I took a seat in my favorite armchair while Nan settled herself on the couch. Paisley hopped up beside her and shoved her wet little puppy nose into Octo-Cat’s rear end.
“Ick!” he shouted as the hair on his back went up. “Why must you always sniff me there? Surely, the scent hasn’t changed from yesterday!”
“Good morning, big brother!” the little dog squealed. She wagged her tail so hard, her whole body shook from the effort.
Octo-Cat growled and ran away to hide.
And so went our morning routine.
“Dear?” Nan prompted, casting a quizzical glance my way. “Your plans for today?”
Oh! Oh, right.
“Sorry. The pets were distracting me,” I mumbled to buy myself some time. Now that I had enough caffeine in my system to form a few coherent thoughts, I realized what I needed to do, and it was the very thing I’d been dreading all night. No wonder I was so tired this morning.
“Nan?” I asked, fixing my eyes on the mug in my hands as I continued. “Bravo visited last night. He’s found my bio grandmother.”
“Oh,” she said simply.
When I glanced up again, she had her gaze fixed on an indeterminable point in the distance and sat stroking Paisley without really seeing her—or me.
“Nan?” I prompted again. I hated that she felt this way, but I also couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t at least try to meet the woman who had birthed my mother. Whether she’d been part of our lives or not, she was still an important part of who my mother and I had become.
Nan sighed gently.“I suppose you’ll want to go meet her, then.”
“Yes,” I answered firmly. That was not up for debate, no matter how much Nan disliked the idea. But I had a plan to soften the blow…
I waited for her eyes to meet mine, and then I flashed her a reassuring smile.“I want you to come with me.”
2
Nan traced her finger along the rim of her mug, then winced.“Oh, shoot. I can’t. I already have something planned for that day.”
I cleared my throat.“Um, I haven’t said what day I’m planning to go yet.”
She hit herself in the forehead with her palm, and a few drops of coffee sloshed out onto her neon pink yoga pants.“Silly me!” she cried. “I better go treat this stain before it sets.” She rushed into the kitchen far faster than she normally moved around the house.
When I joined her there, she was manically dabbing at her lap with a wet paper towel.
“Nan, we need to talk about this,” I said gently.
“It’s not coming out. I’m going to throw these in the wash,” she muttered, then rushed past me, heading straight for the stairs.
I sighed and trudged up the stairs after her.“Come with me to meet her,” I called through her closed bedroom door. “Please. I want you there.”
She didn’t say anything for several moments. Just as I decided she wasn’t going to answer me at all, the door creaked open, and Nan’s fingers wrapped around the edge.
One wide eye looked out at me through the tiny opening.“You don’t understand, dear. That other woman—your true grandmother—she must hate me for what I did.”
“You didn’t do anything,” I insisted, trying and failing to pull the door open wider. “My grandfather was the one who took Mom away. He forced your hand.”