Free The Pretender by Kathleen Creighton

voice mail, tried to return the call, but evidently there was no service. She checked the text messages. The first said, Where are you ? The second, Call me !
    Yeah, right. Would that were possible here on the dark side of Nowhere.
    She was weighing her options and trying todecide whether she had enough nerve to ask to use a landline phone, when there was a knock on the door. She went to open it and found Josie standing there with a tray, on which were a moisture-beaded pitcher of iced tea, a glass, a long-handled spoon, a dish containing packets of assorted sweeteners and another with wedges of lemon. She also had a large manila envelope tucked under one arm.
    “Hi—sorry to bother you again,” Josie said as she breezed past Abby to set the tray on the desk. “I thought you might be thirsty—I know airplanes can really dry you out.”
    “Thanks…that’s very nice of you,” Abby said faintly. She took a deep breath. “Um…I was wondering—” But before she could ask about using a telephone, Josie held out the envelope.
    “I brought you this. I don’t knowif you’ve ever seen a picture of your grandmother—Barbara Chase.” She gave Abby one of her rosy smiles. “You know, you look just like her.” Her smile vanished and she shrugged an apology. “I don’t have a picture of your mother. We… I wish I did. Do you…”
    “No—sorry,” Abby said, and her voice was edgy and strained. She took the envelope and held it, staring down at it through a blur of tears.Because the realization had just struck her that there had been no photos whatsoever among Sunny’s things. She wondered whether she’d destroyed them after her mother’s suicide, or whether she’d ever had any to begin with. Whether in her case, as in Abby’s, the past had been a place she didn’t care to revisit.
    “I’m sorry,” Josie said, gently touching Abby’s arm. “I don’t mean to upset you.”
    “You didn’t.” Abby lifted her head, tossing her hair back over her shoulders. She forced a smile and it hurt her face. “Thanks—this is so nice of you.” She stared hard at the envelope in her hands, frowned, and pulled words from somewhere. “What about my grandfather? Sam Malone? Is he here? When will I meet him?”
    Josie’s eyes slid sideways. “Oh, Sam—Mr. Malone—he’s unpredictable, youknow. It’s hard to know when he’ll show up.” She gave an uncomfortable little laugh. “Well—I should go. I just wanted to tell you dinner will be ready in about half an hour, if, you know, you’d like to freshen up before then.”
    She turned to go, then paused, and her smile blossomed as she looked past Abby. “Oh—look, so this is your terrible kitty. Hello there, pretty one…”
    Abby lookedover her shoulder in time to see Pia come stalking in through the open French door as if she owned the world. “Oh, God—I’m sorry,” Abby said, clapping a hand to her mouth as Pia leaped gracefully onto the bed. “She had to go to the bathroom, and I didn’t want— I hope she didn’t—”
    Josie laughed. “Oh, my goodness, don’t worry about it. I think my flower garden will survive one kitty cat. Youwill need a litter box, of course—I imagine Sage has one he can spare. I’ll have him bring one up. And some cat food, too.” She turned to the door, and again, paused.
    “You know,” she said, studying the cat who was now lying in the middle of the bed, staring back at her, sphinxlike, motionless except for the tip of her tail, “except for the color she is like a very small… tuugakut —that isthe word for cougar—or mountain lion—in Pakanapul. The language of the Tubatulabal.”
    She threw Abby a smile, said, “See you at dinner,” and went out.
    Abby looked down at the envelope in her hands, expecting to see it trembling. To her bemusement, it appeared steady, so all the shaking she felt must be deep inside. She tossed it onto the bed, and Pia chirped and dipped her head, graciouslyconsenting to be