“Also, you can do this,” Octo-Cat added with a supportive purr.
Pringle still hadn’t returned from his investigation of the attic, but I had all the support I needed to take this next step. The only thing holding me back was my own fear.
And I’d faced down murderers before and lived to tell the tale. How could this be anywhere near that bad?
Just one little phone call…
I finished entering the number and put my cell phone on speaker.
“First Baptist of Larkhaven,” a woman with a perky drawl answered. She seemed nice, like she’d want to help.
“Hello?” she repeated when I didn’t immediately jump to explain myself.
“Oh, hi. My name’s Angie, and I’m doing some research on my family. I was wondering if you might be able to help me?” I bit my lip and waited.
“I’m here for another few hours today. Would you like to stop in for a chat?” the woman said.
Charles squeezed my knee and mouthed, “You’ve got this.”
I kept my eyes on him as I spoke to the lady on the other end of the line. “Actually, I live out of state and—well, it’s kind of a complicated situation, but I was wondering if maybe you knew a man named William McAllister? He attended your church in the late sixties, and I think he’s my long-lost grandpa.”
“Oh, dear.” She took a deep breath, and my heart sped to a nervous gallop. “That was before my time. Sad to say I never knew a William.”
Another dead end. Shoot.
“Okay, thank you for your ti—”
Apparently, she wasn’t done speaking yet, though.
“But the McAllisters still attend services every Sunday,” the woman continued. “Would you like a phone number for them?”
Charles gave me a thumbs up and bobbed his head enthusiastically. He smiled wide, and I couldn’t help but smile, too.
“Y-y-yes.” I stumbled over the short word, one that should have been easy but was impossibly difficult. “Please.”
“You’ve got it, sugar. Just a second.” The friendly secretary returned a couple minutes later and rattled off a number.
Charles typed it into a note on his phone while she read.
“That’s for a Miss Linda McAllister,” the church receptionist continued. “She’s the oldest of the bunch so the one who’s most likely to remember your grandfather. Good luck!”
“Thank you. You’ve been incredibly helpful,” I said as new tears began to form in the corners of my eyes.
We said our goodbyes, and I sat silently holding my phone and crying huge, relieved tears while Charles placed a supportive arm around my shoulders.
“Are you going to call her?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” I mumbled, biting my lip again. “I’d rather Nan tell me than me having to find out from somebody else.”
“Maybe. But she’s not making a peep,” Pringle said, returning with an overloaded armful of booty from Charles’s attic. “And don’t you think you deserve to know the truth about your own life?”
“What’s he saying?” Charles asked, eyeing the raccoon with trepidation.
“That we should call,” I said simply. Leave it to Pringle to want to learn whatever secrets he could, even if it stirred up drama.
Charles nodded and looked back toward me. “And what does Octo-Cat think?”
My cat stretched in the sun, blinking slowly. “Octo-Cat thinks Angela is smart enough to make her own decisions.” It was one of the nicest things he’d ever said to me.
“He says it’s my decision,” I translated with a smile.
“And so it is. What about Jacques and Jillianne? What do they say?” Charles asked next. I knew exactly what he was doing, and I loved him for it. He was giving me the time to make the decision for myself, proving that there was no wrong call here.
The two Sphynx cats, however, had been strangely quiet this whole time. Even now Octo-Cat spoke for them.
“This whole thing is already a riddle, so they don’t have anything to add. They’re kind of nice when they shut up, aren’t they? Good nap buddies.” He yawned and rolled onto his back.
I laughed. “They have no opinion, “I told Charles.
He laughed, too, and squeezed my hand. “And here I always assumed they were these great intellectuals.”
“What do you think?” I asked, turning into him.
“This time I agree with the cat. Your cat. Only you know the right course of action.” He pressed a kiss to my lips, and for a little while, I found myself lost in loving surrender.
“I can’t believe he’s copying my line, using my words to do… well, that,” Octo-Cat said with a shudder. “Well, J and J. It’s been swell,” he said to the two hairless cats on his way out of the living room. “But that’s my cue to go.”
“Let me guess,” Charles said with a laugh. “He thinks we’re disgusting and doesn’t want to be around us anymore.”
“Yup, but at least he didn’t call you UpChuck this time. That’s real progress.” I sighed happily. No matter what happened next, I’d still have Charles, Octo-Cat, my mom, dad, and even Nan. Nothing had to change. I could choose what to do with the information once I had it. This was still my life, and I could live it how I wanted.
Charles kissed the part in my hair, then rested his cheek on my head. His voice rumbled through me as he said, “Well, what will it be, Angie?”
I took a deep breath, sat up straight, and placed the one call I knew I needed to make to get my life back on track.
This was my decision, and I was ready to deal with whatever consequences came with it.
Here goes nothing.
Chapter Nineteen
Several hours later, I sat on my front porch with a fresh mug of tea warming my hands against the chilly night air. I leaned back against the side railing with both legs stretched out before me. Paisley sat snuggled in my lap while Octo-Cat lay snoozing at my side. Pringle had already absconded into his private apartment with the new treasures Charles had allowed him to steal from his attic, and my boyfriend had gone home so that I could have this moment to myself.
“Thanks for agreeing to talk with me,” I said to the elderly woman who sat on the nearby rocking chair, holding a full cup of tea in her hands as well.
“Of course, dear,” she answered with a far-off smile that seemed to take almost all the energy she had. “I should have spoken with you about this much earlier.”
I turned the mug in my hands, searching for the right words to move this conversation forward. It seemed an apology was the best place to start. “I shouldn’t have given you an ultimatum, but—”
“Say no more.” Her voice was soft and reassuring. “I shouldn’t have pushed you to that point. Thank you for giving me the chance to explain for myself first.”
“Nan, you know that no matter what happened back then, it doesn’t erase all the amazing years we’ve had together. It doesn’t change the fact that you’re the person I love most in this entire world. You’re my best friend.”
Octo-Cat stirred in his sleep, just enough to grumble a protest.
“Well, you and Octo-Cat,” I amended with a chuckle.
“Show me what you found,” she said without further delay. I knew this was hard for her, but I was so appreciative she was facing that discomfort to give me the answers I craved.
Instead of calling the number the church lady had given me, I’d decided to call my nan and come clean, to tell her I’d been searching for answers and may have found some but would much rather talk to her first if she was willing.
She’d asked for a few hours to gather her bearings but said we could talk that night. And now here we were.
“You’ve already seen the letter and birth certificate. Pringle took those back. But we also have these two pictures.” I set my tea to the side and rose carefully, holding Paisley as I stood.
“Ahh, William,” Nan said, memories sparkling in her light eyes. But did they spark joy? I couldn’t quite tell.