Chapter 24
During the first two weeks of November, Via tried to get back to normal. She’d stopped staring at Leo’s—Earl’s—apartment door
every morning and had thrown herself into new activities at Pawsitive Vibes. Unfortunately one of them included another Meow
and Mingle, back by popular demand, with Dora promising not to get sick this time. Via had no intention of being involved.
She leash-trained Squeaks, which wasn’t an easy task and had taken up a lot of her spare time. She also worked on her autumn
sweater and was almost done with that by mid-November. She considered that a win and put a half checkmark by it on her bucket
list. The only thing that she hadn’t completed was watching a Lake Erie sunset. Every time she tried to get in the mood to
go, she stopped herself. If it weren’t for her idiocy, she and Leo would have already finished the list. Who cared if it was
part of Earl’s stipulations? She realized she’d been so very, very wrong to be angry with Leo about that too.
On the third Monday of November, she opened the door to take Sir Meow and Squeaks on their morning walks, only to freeze in
her tracks. Earl’s door was ajar and she heard movement inside. Where was her lamp when she needed it?
“Meow!” Sir tugged on the leash, pulling toward the apartment.
Leo! Her heart raced as she and the cats burst inside the room . . . to see two guys packing up boxes. “What are you doing?” she asked. “You’re not allowed to be in here.”
The tall, slim guy with a toothpick in the corner of his mouth walked up to her. “All I know is my boss told us to come here
and pack everything up. New owner’s orders.”
“New owner?” she said weakly. Then she grabbed the cats, flew down the stairs, and shot out the door to the sidewalk. Sure
enough, in the corner of Second Chapter’s front window was the For Sale sign.
“He did it.” Via slowly set down Sir and Squeaks, their leashes still around her wrist. “He really did it.” Her phone rang
inside the pocket of her jacket. She pulled it out. “Hi, Bennett,” she said, unable to even pretend to be chipper.
“Hello, Via. You sound like you’ve already found out.”
“That Second Chapter is for sale? Just now.” She started walking, unable to look at the sign again. “Good for Leo. I guess.”
“What do you mean?”
“He’s selling Second Chapter.” She halted. Wait, if there was a For Sale sign, that meant he didn’t take Percival’s offer!
Which, yay, but it reminded her of what an idiot she was.
“Via, I think there’s a misunderstanding. Leo doesn’t own Second Chapter. He didn’t fulfill Earl’s stipulations.”
“Huh?”
“He had to stay in Pecan Corner for thirty days. He made it to twenty-nine. I tried calling him several times but no answer.
I was going to ask you to reach out to him, but I had a feeling—or rather a vibe, as my grandson would say—that something
had happened between you two.”
She halted, pressing her fingers against her forehead. Unbelievable. “So who owns it?”
“His mother, Constance. If Leo didn’t fulfill Earl’s stipulations, or he refused the inheritance outright, it would go to her.”
Via almost dropped the phone. She couldn’t imagine him letting Constance have what was rightfully his. Or would have been,
if Via had trusted him. “Thanks for letting me know,” she said quietly.
“Constance said she wanted to get rid of the property ASAP, so that’s why I called you. I didn’t want you to be surprised
when the movers showed up.” He sounded regretful. “Guess I was too late.”
They hung up and Via continued her walk, slower than usual. She wasn’t in any hurry to get home, and she started blaming herself
again for Leo’s loss. Then she brought herself up short. Wait a minute. Had she made a huge mistake? Absolutely. But she didn’t
force Leo to give up his inheritance. He ran from it at the first chance he got. This wasn’t her fault—at least not totally.
He could have stayed another day, but he didn’t. He’d thrown the inheritance away. Maybe he didn’t appreciate it as much as
she thought.
She tried to muster up some anger, but she couldn’t. Tears pricked her eyes. This was a mess, one that Constance was now going
to clean up. She had to take proper responsibility for it, since she couldn’t fix it. And now Earl’s shop was going to disappear.
The only comfort she could find was that Percival hadn’t gotten his grimy hands on it—yet. With Leo out of the picture, he
just might try again. Should she try to find Constance and warn her? Bennett had her number.
Via shook her head as she rounded the last turn to Pawsitive Vibes. She was done. She’d done enough damage to Earl’s legacy.
She had to let it—and Leo—go.
On Friday evening, Via turned the Open sign to Closed in Pawsitive Vibes and locked the door.
Tomorrow was a big day—she was going to pick up six more cats for the café.
They’d had a wonderful slew of adoptions recently, and she was looking forward to her new residents.
The next several days would be crucial in helping them get acclimated, but as long as she didn’t have Squeaks 2. 0, it would be okay.
Actually, Squeaks had settled down and was no longer Naughty Cat of the Week. Neither was Sir Meow, now that Leo was gone.
To the surprise of everyone, Cinnamon’s picture was in the frame after she’d gotten into Via’s project bag and got tangled
up in her sweater, yarn, and knitting needles. It had taken her and Birdie almost half an hour to detangle everything, and
her sweater was ruined. Oh well, there was always next year. But the idea of starting again depressed her.
She walked away from the door, only to stop at the sound of someone knocking on the window. She almost didn’t look to see
who it was. The café was closed, and she had to stick to her schedule. She’d learned early on that if she let customers in
after closing time, some would take advantage.
But for some reason she did turn around, and she couldn’t believe what she saw. Constance Brewster.
The woman tapped impatiently on the window again. Via’s heart leapt. Maybe she’d heard from Leo. Then she switched to panic—maybe
what she’d heard was bad news. She hurried and opened the door, the cold November air whooshing into the café.
Constance entered. Once again the woman was impeccably dressed, this time in a navy pantsuit, gold Chanel jewelry, and a brown
fur, mid-length jacket that definitely wasn’t faux.
Via locked the door behind her. “Mrs. Brewster,” she said carefully, her panic subsiding as she realized Leo’s mother was probably back in Pecan Corner to check on her investment. Like Leo, she was just as eager to sell it. Pecan Corner really had been Earl’s true family.
Constance looked around the café. Squeaks, Sir, Luna, and Cinnamon were the only ones present. “There were more cats the last
time I was here.”
“The rest were adopted.” She folded her hands. “Leo isn’t here.”
“I’m aware of that.”
Then she had heard from him. “Can I help you with something?”
Constance tilted her head, her brow furrowing slightly, even though her forehead was completely smooth. “You can’t help me,
Via.” She approached, taking her large, square, suede handbag off her shoulder. “But I can help you.” She looked around the
foyer. “Is there a place we can sit?”
Via nodded. “In there.” She gestured to the lounge, expecting Constance to balk. Instead she nodded. “Would you like some
coffee or tea?”
“No thank you.” They entered the lounge and sat down, the cats thankfully deciding to be uninterested in them.
Constance pulled out a thick leather-bound book with stamped engraving on it. “When the movers packed up my brother’s things
earlier this week, they found this. One of them had the wisdom to call me, thinking it was important.” She ran her hand over
the cover. “I flew in yesterday and picked it up at Bennett’s office, then read it last night.” She looked up at Via, her
eyes bleary. “I learned quite a bit about my brother. I also found out how much he thought of you.”
Via’s hand went to her heart. “He wrote about me?”
“Briefly. Earl wasn’t one for many words.”
Tears filled her eyes. “I miss him,” she said, her voice thick. And Leo.
“When I got to the last page and found out he’d planned to change his will and give Second Chapter to you—”
“Wait. He wrote that?”
She nodded. “It was his last entry.” She paused, glanced down again, as if regaining her composure, then met Via’s gaze again.
“I’ll admit, at first I was going to ignore it and throw away the journal. I’d sell the building and be done with it. For
a tidy profit too. Do you know a man named Perry Percival?”
Her stomach rolled over. “Yes,” she grumbled. This guy was like a bad boomerang. She braced herself. “Did you sell it to him?”
“Heavens no. He’s odious. I have standards about who I do business with.”
Via almost hit the floor with relief. “Thank you,” she said.
“But I do have some excellent offers,” she continued. “Obviously I don’t need the money, but I certainly wouldn’t give such
a property away either.”
Neither would her son. Not that Via blamed either of them. She was a prime example of what happened when emotions took over
common sense. It didn’t end well.
“I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my life, Via. Huge ones.”
Join the club . . .
“I was so embarrassed by my working-class upbringing. My parents weren’t very intelligent. Earl seemed to follow in their
footsteps. I, on the other hand, was valedictorian with a perfect 4.0 and many scholarship offers. I knew I would never fulfill
my potential unless I left my past behind.”
Via could understand wanting to leave your hometown. She’d done it. Earl had done it. Leo had also done it. All for different
reasons. But Constance’s confession was rubbing her wrong.
“I was in my freshman year at Cornell, and a friend took me to a networking event. I met Elliot Brewster there. Love at first
sight, even though he was much older than me.” Her eyes took on a faraway look. “We married. Children were never part of my
plan.”
“Mrs. Brewster—”