A Familiar Tail Read Online Free Page A

white-haired grandmotherly types. Valerie McDermott, though, looked to be about my age, maybe a little younger. The bandanna tied over her strawberry blond hair matched her pink T-shirt, and her heart-shaped freckled face was as cheerful as her greeting. She also had a spherical bulge under her shirt, which signaled the imminent arrival of yet another McDermott to the Portsmouth area.
    â€œYour room’s all set.” Valerie smiled as I heaved themassive red suitcases I dubbed Thing One and Thing Two out of the Jeep.
    â€œUmmm . . . ,” she said. “Martine didn’t say you needed a room for the whole summer . . .”
    I laughed. “Oh, no. I’m only with you for a couple of days. I’ve been living out of my brother’s spare bedroom for the past few months, and it just seemed easier to toss everything in the backseat instead of sorting out a third bag.” Yes, I’ve heard of traveling light. It is one of those things that other people do.
    Valerie was doing her best not to look relieved. “Well, let’s go in. Normally I’d help you with those, but”—she gestured toward her belly—“Roger would throw a fit.”
    â€œWhen are you due?”
    â€œSeptember.” Valerie sighed. “Really, really ready for the debutante here to make her appearance. Aching ankles and . . .” She stopped. “I am not going to start in on pregnant-woman whining while you’re standing out here. Let me show you to your room.”
    Six months pregnant she might be, but Valerie set a brisk pace up the steps, across the pillared front porch and into the house. I had to blink hard to get my sun-dazzled eyes to adjust to the dim and narrow oak-paneled foyer. A staircase—equally dim and narrow, and also very steep—ran up along the left-hand wall. Valerie had her foot on the first stair.
    â€œYour room’s on the second floor. I hope that’s all right?” She eyed my suitcases again.
    â€œI’m good. I’ve had plenty of practice with these monsters.”
    Valerie gave one of those little shrugs people use when they don’t know you well enough to say,
It’s your funeral.
“Okay, then. This way.”
    Did I mention those stairs were steep? Two hundred years old, fainting-couch-on-the-landing steep. Wrestling Thing One and Thing Two up was indeed a challenge, but I’d metworse and we all made it safely, if a little short of breath. The upper hallway had been done in shades of gold and cream—that is, where it wasn’t dark carved paneling.
    â€œIs this your first time in Portsmouth?” Valerie asked while politely waiting for me to stop panting.
    I nodded, then added, “My dad’s family is from the area, though.”
    â€œReally?” I watched her do that thing where you run through an index of names in your mind. “I don’t think I know any Brittons . . .”
    â€œIt was my grandmother who lived here. She was a Blessingsound,” I added, because she was going to ask anyway. Because this was New England and even the people who didn’t give a darn in general about genealogy cared about the local families. It was kind of like how living in Detroit made you care about cars whether you wanted to or not.
    â€œWait a minute.” Valerie staggered. She actually staggered. “You’re a
Blessingsound
? You’re not related to Annabelle Blessingsound, are you?”
    â€œAnnabelle Mercy Blessingsound is my grandma, my dad’s mother.” Okay, this was getting spookier than the thing with the cat. “And you know what? That’s the second time her name’s come up today. I didn’t know there were Blessingsounds left around here.”
    â€œNot for years,” Valerie said. “And you’re really just visiting Martine?”
    â€œUmmm . . . yes.” Valerie was still staring and I narrowed my eyes at