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“Well, that’s the best any of us can do, right?” I winked. “Someone super smart and awesome taught me that.”

“Speaking of all those lovely adjectives, how was she? Did you find out why William…?” She let her words trail off, unwilling—or perhaps unable—to voice what her late friend had done. With that single action, he’d changed all of our lives forever. We’d never know exactly why he’d done it, but I trusted Grandma Marilyn’s interpretation of events. Of course, it led me to wonder if my missing grandpa would have accepted me for who I am, if he’d gotten the chance to meet me before he passed.

Sometimes I had a hard time remaining serious in serious moments. I knew a joke wouldn’t help here, so I called upon my best impression of Charles. “Well, you see, the prevailing theory is that he took Mom away because he believed he was keeping her safe from Marilyn.”

Nan’s eyes bulged. “Was Marilyn dangerous? Is she now?”

I waggled my fingers.“She’s kooky-crazy. Turns out she can talk to animals.”

Nan gasped.“You can’t be serious!”

I just smiled and nodded.“No one would believe her, including Grandpa. He chose never to see his own daughter again rather than to believe something so magical could be possible.”

Nan gasped again.“Oh, that poor old man. He missed out on so much.”

“It was his choice,” I pointed out. “Marilyn never got a choice. You didn’t have much of one, either.”

“He made a choice, but it was the wrong one. That doesn’t sound like the friend I knew. Still, I’m so incredibly grateful for the life we’ve shared.”

“Me, too,” I said, peppering her cheek with a kiss.

Nan shook her head and looked down at her lap.“You and Marilyn must have had a lot of stories to share.”

“We did, and I really like her.”

What Nan said next surprised me more than anything else had so far that weekend.“I think I would, too.”

“Good, because she’s coming over for dinner next month. I figured that would give everyone enough time to let everything sink in, and it’s still well before the wedding. By the way, I have a new friend that I just know you’re going to love. Her name is Sharon, and…”

We stayed up the whole night talking, just like the old days. I had a lot to tell my mom, but that could wait until tomorrow. She had her own feelings about our sordid history, and I’d have to find a way to help her work through them.

But that’s what the people in your life were for.

They were there for you.

And it was okay to lean on them when you needed to.

I learned that this weekend, and I hoped with time my grandma Marilyn would be able to learn it, too.

I couldn’t wait for her to meet the rest of the family, and I couldn’t wait to delve further into our shared ability and what it could mean for us in the future.

Would Pet Whisperer P.I. get a new partner member?

Heck if I knew. But for once, not knowing was actually part of the fun.

17. HONEYMOON HEARSAY

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My name is Angie Longfellow. Yup, it’s official as of the day before yesterday. I’m a married woman, who is currently headed toward a luxury honeymoon destination with new hubby at her side.

I still can’t believe it really happened.

Getting married is probably the most normal thing I’ve done with my life, yet it also feels like the biggest adventure so far.

And that’s saying something, considering I racked up seven associate degrees as I struggled with academic indecision, started my own business as a private investigator, and can secretly talk to animals.

Oh, you’re wondering about that last part? Well, allow me to explain…

It all started with a will reading at the law firm where I used to work as a paralegal. The same law firm where I met my new husband—eep!—but I digress.

As a glorified secretary, it was my job to make the coffee. The partners hadn’t sprung for new appliances in quite some time, and the coffee maker was more than a little worse for wear. When I tried to plug it in, the darned thing zapped me unconscious.

I woke up a short bit later to the smell of tuna and the sound of someone addressing me in a very condescending manner. I didn’t know it then, but that someone was the deceased’s beloved cat Octavius. He told me his owner had been murdered and that he needed help to prove it and thus get justice for the old lady he’d loved so dearly.

If you know cats as well as I do, then you know that Mr. Octavius refused to take“no” for an answer. With no choice but to comply, a partnership was born.

We solved the murder together and became friends while doing it. I was asked to adopt him by the estate’s trustee, and I eagerly agreed—even before I knew a certain tabby had a generous trust fund attached to him.

I took to calling him Octo-Cat, and together we moved into his former owner’s enormous manor house at his behest. Now the two of us are partners in crime… make that partners insolving crimes. Yes, we run the P.I. business together. We don’t always agree, but one way or another, we always get the job done.