Page 30 of The Catch

“That’s quite the story.”

“It is. She was a rebel in her younger days.”

“I’ll say.”

“I always wanted to go see the building when the historical society used to give tours. I never made the time, and then they sold it.”

Josh held his cup between his teeth and pulled out his phone. “Hold on,” he said. Cat eyed him curiously, and a moment later, he shoved the phone back into his pocket and grinned. “You still want to see it?”

“How?”

“You want to walk or drive?”

Eleven

The massive blond-bricked building wassurrounded by a construction fence and ‘no trespassing’ signs, but to Cat it was like walking into one of her abuela’s stories. She’d passed by the old relic a hundred times, always on her way somewhere that wouldn’t allow her to stop and take it in the way she wished. Now she was standing there, looking up at the stained-glass windows and the arched entry, and it was breathtaking.

“These are why it’s my favorite,” Josh said, gesturing to the bright purple doors. The heavy oak groaned obnoxiously as he pushed them open, and he smiled at the quirk. “I like to think about a bunch of stuffy old clergymen silently bucking the system by painting the doors purple.”

Cat laughed. “My grandmother used to talk about these doors. How she couldn’t help but smile when she came home to them, no matter how bad a day she’d had. Maybe you’re right. Maybe they did it on purpose.”

A stout man, his hair receding beneath his hard hat, came trotting over from one of the construction trailers. “Hey, man,” he greeted, shaking Josh’s hand. “You working the weekend?”

“No, this is a social stop. This is Catia. Cat, this is Jim Booth. He’s the general contractor.”

She shook his hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“You take all your dates to construction sites, Josh?” Jim chuckled.

“Only the special ones.”

“Well, go ahead and take your own tour. You know the place. I’ll be in the trailer if you need me.”

“Thanks,” Josh said, taking her hand again. “I won’t.”

Josh led them into the grand foyer, and she spun around, taking in the vaulted ceilings and intricate stonework that served as molding throughout.

“Where do you want to start?”

Straight ahead of them was a wooden staircase with rich mahogany railings and treads, and she pulled him toward it. The whole place still smelled of incense and that musty, yet comforting scent of mothballs and grandparents. She ran her fingers along the polished railing as Josh trailed behind her. “What made you want to be an architect?” she asked as she climbed.

“I guess I like the responsibility of it.”

“That’s an odd way to put it. I figured you would say you played with a lot of Legos as a kid.”

“That too. But I like the idea that I can design something that will last forever, or in this case, preserve it. Places are important to people.”

“This place is important to me.”

“Then, it’s important to me too.”

When they reached the landing, a gold carpet unfurled on either side of them, stretching before rows of doors. Old, interesting sculptures hung on the walls between the dorms. A thought occurred to her, and she wandered down the hallway. “There was an angel carved out of wood hanging outside of my grandmother’s room,” she said. “She talked about it a few times.”

Josh followed behind her, checking all of the statues carved into little nooks on the wall every few feet. She found it first, stopping to study it. Painted white and about a foot tall with its wings spread, it looked like the one she’d heard about.

“Maybe this was her room,” Josh said, nodding across the hall at one of the closed doors.

“Can we look?”

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