AUTHOR'S NOTE: My apologies for a shorter than usual chapter. Tamilyn313, I don't know when your birthday is, but Happy Birthday and I hope this is a good enough offering for your special day! Ponygirlrunner25, I hope that your back surgery went well and that recovery is quick and as painless as possible! Thank You to all of you who have favorited, followed, and reviewed this story! Keep the reviews coming, I love them!

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Uncle Bobby's house was full of stuff. You could tell that it had been a nice house before, there was lots of old-fashioned looking furniture all over the place. But now it seemed like almost every flat surface was piled with books, papers, folders, and different things like chunks of uncut gemstones, bowls of dried flowers and herbs, weird little carved boxes made of wood and stone, and even odd things like pieces of bones.

We sat in the kitchen at his big wooden table while he made pancakes for everyone. There were plates of sausage and scrambled eggs already out, and everyone had eaten some. I was waiting anxiously for the pancakes, because they're my favorite.

Daddy sipped his coffee. "Did you sleep okay?" he asked me.

I shrugged. "Yeah," I said. I had woken up in a small room- there was a twin bed, a small bedside table, a low dresser, and tiny rickety shelf, and that was all that fit in there. The bed had soft flannel sheets and a cozy, well-worn quilt on it, and it was comfortable. When I had left the room, I had heard voices drifting up the stairs, and I had gone down to find everyone else already awake and drinking coffee.

Uncle Bobby brought over a couple of pancakes, balancing them on the spatula.

"For the lil' one, since I know she likes 'em so much," he said, placing them on my plate.

"Thanks!" I smiled up at him. Daddy put the small bottle of maple syrup next to my plate. I cut up the pancakes and poured syrup on them, and started eating.

"So what's the plan for today?" Uncle Sam asked.

"I think we need to go through everything that you got, and try to categorize it. You said she'd been doing genealogy?" Grandpa John asked, sipping his coffee.

"Yeah, that's what it looked like," Daddy replied. "She had a lot of papers about different family lines and stuff like that."

"I'll check and see if I can figure out if she did anything online," Uncle Sam chimed in. "There are a few genealogy websites that are really popular, maybe she had an account on one of them."

"Hopefully I can find some contacts in her papers, to try and talk to some relatives about...things in the family." Daddy said.

"Oh, I 'member something!" I said, and they all looked at me expectantly.

"Mommy said that a long time ago, her great gramma, or maybe her great-great gramma, had lived in this small town place, and she had been the one who helped babies get born."

"You mean a doctor? That's unusual for back then," Uncle Sam said.

"No, she wasn't a doctor, it was something different...a middlewife?" I asked, frowning.

"Midwife," Grandpa John said. "They're women who assist in birth, very similar to doctors."

"Yeah, that's it," I said. "But she always knew if the baby was gonna be a boy or girl and she was always right, and she could also tell if there was something wrong with the baby, or if there was going to be something bad happen during the birth. And this was before they had all those machines."

I saw them all look at each other, and it was like all of them were doing the "talking without words" thing!

"That's interesting," Daddy said. "I'm glad you remembered that. You let me know if you remember anything else about your family, okay?"

"Okay, Daddy," I finished my pancakes.

Uncle Bobby brought a plate over to the table that was stacked with pancakes. He stood next to the table and looked at me.

"Some rules, lil' girl," he said. "Absolutely no going into the salvage yard, it's too dangerous. No going into the basement, the garage, or the library."

"The garage, Bobby?" Uncle Sam asked, looking up at him. "You always used to let us hang out in there with you."

"Well, it's got a lot more stuff in there since you all were her age. A little mite like her's liable to get lost amid all the car parts and junk."

"No library? But I love books!" I protested.

"Kid, the books I got in my library have a lot of things in them that ain't suitable for little eyes. I'll see if I can find some that are okay for you. And I've got Sam and Dean's books from when they was kids."

I sighed and looked at my plate. "O-kaay. But it's not fair."

Daddy gave me a look. "Hey," he said sternly, "Watch your tone."

"I'm preventing you from having nightmares, little girl," Uncle Bobby said. "You can play in the back yard, there's a tire swing, but I need to check the ropes before ya get on. It's been a few years since anyone's used it and I need to make sure they're still sound."

"And you can't just go outside," Daddy said. "You ask if you can go out, you hear me?"

"Yes, Daddy." I said.

Uncle Bobby walked back over to the stove. He made a few more pancakes, then brought them over and sat down to eat.

"Are you finished?" Daddy asked me. "Why don't you go get dressed."

I got off of my chair. "Okay," I said, and started to walk away.

"Hold up there!" Uncle Bobby said. "Take your plate over to the sink and rinse it off, the rule is, you clean up after yourself around here."

"Okay," I said, feeling embarrassed, and I picked up my plate and fork. I walked them over to the sink, but the sink was too high for me- I could put my plate in the sink, but I couldn't reach the faucet.

"I'll get your plate," Uncle Sam called to me.

I turned around. "Thanks." I said sheepishly. I went upstairs to the bedroom I was staying in and opened up my suitcase. I got out some clothes and got dressed, and then I remembered the little spell book I had taken from the store. I pulled it out of my purse and glanced through it, noticing words like "pennyroyal", "rosemary", and "betony". I looked around the room, trying to figure out where to hide it. I settled for shoving it between the two mattresses, as far in as I could push my hand. I wondered if Uncle Bobby had any books on witches or spells in his library. Then I went back downstairs.

Everyone was in the library. I stood at the doorway and looked in.

"What am I s'posed to do?" I complained. "I don't want to be all by myself in another room!"

Uncle Bobby was behind a huge old-looking wooden desk. "All right, kid, you can come in," he said. "But no touchin' anything. Ya got me?"

"Okaaay." I said. I walked over to Daddy, who was sitting at a table next to Uncle Sam. There were papers spread out all over.

"I'll look and see if I can find those books for ya," Uncle Bobby said, and he left the room.

"What are you doing?" I asked Daddy, leaning on his arm.

"Looking at your aunt's papers," he told me. "Do any of these names mean anything to you? Rita and Harley Stover, Max Carlo, Lynnette Andrews-"

"Is that Great Uncle Max?" I asked. "The one I- I told you about?" I blushed. I still felt bad that he had smacked me, even though I had been barely 4 years old at the time.

Daddy looked at the papers, "Uhh, let's see, Great Uncle is what-"

"The brother of your grandfather," Uncle Sam said.

"He used to sneak drinks out of a silver bottle," I said, "but it was 'cause he was in a hole with foxes and there was lots of loud noises."

"What do you mean?" Uncle Sam asked. "A foxhole?"

"That's what I said." I told him. "And he wore a funny flat helmet."

"Second World War?" Grandpa John asked.

Daddy looked at the paper again. 'Let's see, born in 1922...Yeah, could have been, he would have been the right age to enlist," Daddy looked at me, and stroked the back of my head. "Good job, sweetheart," he smiled at me. "Thank you for telling us about that."

Uncle Bobby came into the room with a red plastic milk crate and set it down. "These are the books that your Dad and Uncle Sam read when they were kids," he said, breathing a little heavy. "I've got the comics in a different part of the garage I think, I'll look for 'em later."

I walked over and sat down next to the crate. "Thanks, Uncle Bobby!" I said. I bent to take the books out. They smelled a little mildewy and old but I didn't care. There was a series about a boy detective called Encyclopedia Brown, and a series about a pair of brothers names The Hardy Boys. They were always solving crimes with their friend Chet and driving around in his jalopy.

"What's a jalopy?" I asked.

"A junker car that needs to be fixed up." Daddy said.

Uncle Sam looked around his laptop and saw what I was reading. "Chet and his jalopy, huh?" he asked me with a smile.

I had read partway through one of the Hardy Boys books when I got bored.

"Can I go look at the back yard?" I asked.

Daddy looked at Uncle Bobby.

"Yeah, all right." Uncle Bobby said. "But remember, stay off the tire swing."

"I will," I said.

There was an overgrown garden on the side of the house, with lots of big bushes with flowers, and a lot of them had died on the plants. I wondered who had planted it and why they didn't take care of it. Mommy had said that you needed to take care of a garden and water and weed it a lot and get rid of the dead stuff.

There was another patch closer to the house with a bunch of green plants in it. There were some small stakes in the ground with labels, that said things like, "thyme" and "basil". I guessed this was an herb garden. Did Uncle Bobby actually do cooking with fresh herbs? Mommy had always wanted an herb garden but we lived in an apartment. She got a couple of plants and re-potted them, but could never keep them alive. She said our apartment didn't get enough sun.

The door opened and Daddy came outside. "What are you doing?" he asked.

"Just looking around," I pointed to the herb garden, "There's lot of herbs there."

"Yep," he said.

"Does Uncle Bobby do cooking?" I asked.

Daddy got an uneasy look on his face. "Sometimes," he said. "I know his, uh, wife did a lot of the planting back here."

"He was married?" I looked up at Daddy.

"Yes, she...passed away." Daddy said. He still looked uncomfortable.

"Oh."

"Are you getting hungry? We're going to have lunch soon."

"Okay." I agreed. "What's for lunch?"

"Well, unfortunately it's going to be canned soup and grilled cheese, Bobby needs to go to the store. Do you want to go grocery shopping later?" he asked.

"Yeah, I guess," I said. I hadn't been grocery shopping in a long time, people had brought my mom and me groceries and then she had been able to sign up for a delivery service.

The door opened and Uncle Bobby walked over to the tire swing that was on the tree. We walked over with him. He pushed on the swing, and then he put his leg up on it and leaned into it. There was a breaking sound and then part of one of the ropes snapped.

"That's what I thought, dry rotted." he said. "I'll see if I got some more rope in the garage and fix this up."

"Let's go inside for lunch," Daddy said. "And we need to put sunscreen on you if you're going to be outside any more, your face is getting a little red."

After lunch Daddy and Uncle Sam said they would go to the store and buy food since we were going to be here for a while. I went with them.

They had made lists of supplies, and each of them took a cart and went their own way to buy what was on their list. I went with Daddy.

He let me pick out some fresh fruit and some snacks, and then when we went to the cereal aisle. I asked if I could pick out something.

"We should get some oatmeal so that Uncle Sam doesn't fuss about you eating sugary cereal." he said. "You know how he is."

"But I like Coco Puffs and Frosted Flakes!" I complained.

"I know, but they're not the healthiest things out there." he said.

I followed him into the next aisle, and he said, "You know what, go back and get a box of Lucky Charms."

I looked up at him. "Okay!" I ran back to the cereal aisle and found them near the other end, then I hurried back to the aisle we had just been in. I ran up to the cart that I thought was Daddy, but when I looked up, the man who turned his head wasn't Daddy! I stared at him, blushing, and noticed that he was wearing a tan jacket and not an olive green one like Daddy had been. I turned around.

"Daddy?" I called. I ran back to the cereal aisle in case he had gone back to look for me. He wasn't there either.

"Daddy!" I called, getting a little nervous. I ran around the end to the next aisle, and ran into an old lady's cart.

"S-sorry," I mumbled, scooting around her.

The aisle had several people with carts in it and I saw an olive green jacket up ahead. I moved between the carts, feeling more nervous now. What if it wasn't him?

"Daddy!" I called again.

The man turned as I ran up to him and I breathed a sigh of relief. It was Daddy!

"You left the other aisle!" I said, and then I burst into tears. I tried to glare at him. "You scared me! I couldn't find you!"

He leaned down and picked me up. "I'm sorry, sweetheart," he said. "I realized I didn't need anything from that one, so I came to this one. I figured you'd just move to the next one too." He kissed my forehead. "I'm sorry," he repeated. "I didn't think you'd be scared."

"Well I was!" I said, feeling embarrassed now. I put my face on his chest and tried to stop crying. He tightened his arms around me. "Uncle Sam texted me, he's done and is at the front of the store waiting. You want to go sit with him while I finish up?"

"Okay," I said, wiping my tears off of my face with my hands.

Daddy put me down and we walked to the front of the store where there were benches.

Uncle Sam stood up as he came over, "What's wrong?" he asked.

"Charlie got a little lost," Daddy told him.

"You left me!" I accused, looking up at Daddy.

"Yeah, that too," Daddy said. He gave Uncle Sam the keys. "Want to load up your stuff and I'll be out in a few?"

Uncle Sam stood up. "Sure. You want to come with me, Charlie?"

"Yeah," I said, and I took his hand.

We went to the car and Uncle Sam opened the back for me. I got in while he put the bags in the trunk. He turned on the radio so we could listen to music while we waited for Daddy. When Daddy came over to the car, he was on his cell phone. He stood outside of the car for a few minutes, talking. When he was done, he banged on the trunk of the Impala and Uncle Sam opened the trunk for him.

"What's up?" Uncle Sam asked as Daddy got in the car.

"Got a call from Rufus, he wanted some help. I told him I couldn't right now." Daddy glanced back at me. "You buckled, Charlie?"

"Yes, Daddy," I said.

"I want to get this dealt with ASAP," Daddy said in a low voice, jerking his head back at me.

When we got back to Uncle Bobby's I went around to the trunk.

"I can help carry," I said, as they were unloading the bags. Uncle Sam gave me a couple of bags and I carried them into the kitchen.

I went back out to the car as Uncle Sam was getting the last couple of bags out of the trunk. I saw a little lever on the inside of the trunk, and reached in to touch it. There was a click and a pop and the false bottom popped up.

"Hey, what are you doing?" Uncle Sam asked sternly. "Do not fool with anything in the trunk!" He handed me a bag, and then reached out and closed the false bottom, and then slammed the trunk closed.

When we went inside, Daddy and Grandpa John were leaning over a laptop talking about something.

"Come help me in the kitchen," Uncle Bobby said to me. "Your Dad and Gramps need to talk about somethin' private."

Uncle Bobby showed me how to peel potatoes, and then I sat at the table, with a huge pile of potatoes. Uncle Bobby came over with a cutting board and a big knife.

"Can I cut them up too?" I asked him.

He looked uncomfortable. "Let's let your Dad decide that," he said. He cut up the potatoes and took them over to the stove.

"Once they're done in the library, go check out what else I found," Uncle Bobby said to me. "Should keep ya busy for a while."

When the door to the library opened, I went in, and there was a cardboard box with a bunch of X-Men comics and other superhero comic books too. There was also a large plastic bin of Legos.

"Cool!" I said happily. We hadn't been able to bring my Legos with us when we left the apartment.

Daddy say down on the floor with me and started to look through the comic books. He and Uncle Sam reminisced about the different stories in different issues. We sat there reading until Uncle Bobby called us in to the kitchen for dinner.

"Tomorrow, Grandpa John and I are leaving for a couple of days," Daddy told me at the table. "We have some leads on finding out info on some of your relatives."

"Can I come too?" I asked.

"No, you'll stay here with Uncle Sam and Bobby." Daddy said.

"But- you said we'd do something fun!" I told him.

"I know...this investigation needs to happen, though." he said. "When I get back, we'll figure out something to do, okay?"

"O- kaay," I said in a disappointed tone. He ruffled my hair.

The next morning, Uncle Sam was the only one in the kitchen. Daddy and Grandpa John had left early in the morning, and had said goodbye to me at bedtime the night before, but I still felt sad. I missed them both.

"Want to share my oatmeal?" Uncle Sam asked.

I wrinkled my nose. "Yuck! Bor-ing! Can I have pancakes?"

He chuckled. "No, I'm not making pancakes, but I'll make you some eggs if you want. Just try some, I put fresh fruit in it." He held a spoon out.

I tasted it. "It is good." I said. "I'll have a little bit."

Uncle Sam busied himself at the stove scrambling eggs and heating up a pan.

"We need to decide what's going to happen in the fall," he told me.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"If we're going to settle somewhere and put you in school, or if I'm going to home school you."

"Home school?" I looked at him.

"Yeah, we'd stay on the road and you'd come with us and I'd teach you every day." He came over to the table. "I guess you really did like the oatmeal." he grinned at me.

I had eaten almost the whole bowl. "Sorry," I blushed, and he ruffled my hair.

"It's all right, I can make more." he said.

"Have you an Daddy talked about school?" I asked.

"Not really, he's...got a lot on his mind right now. I've been thinking about it though." Uncle Sam went back to the stove and started to stir the eggs.

"If I wasn't here you wouldn't have to think about it at all," I mumbled.

"What was that?" Uncle Sam asked.

"Nothing." I said. I don't know why, I was starting to feel guilty that Daddy was having to spend so much time on me and figuring out what was going on with my family. Maybe it would be better if I wasn't here, and he could go back to doing what he had done before I came along.