The McGees had come to Salem that October to visit Mr. McGee's grandmother who was nearly a century old at that point. It was the first of November 1993, and there had been reports of rioting in the town the night before. Fortunately, according to the news reports, everything seemed to have calmed down at sunrise and Mr. McGee had been able to drink his morning coffee without worry. Well, not on the rioting front, unless one counted the minor riot that looked to be about to break out in the house if the look on his wife's face was anything to judge by.
"Time was that this house was filled with the laughter of children." Mr. McGee's grandmother said wistfully as she sipped her own coffee despite her doctor's numerous warnings about drinking the stuff at her age.
Mrs. McGee's face went colder at that. It was a well known fact in the family that she and her husband had finally given up after twenty years of trying, which had included any number of expensive fertility treatments that had failed.
"Don't worry dear, God will provide." the old woman had said with a smile.
Before Mrs. McGee could go into a rant about what God had provided so far, the phone started ringing. Despite it being a bit rude since it wasn't his house, Mr. McGee picked it up because he was the closest. As he listened to whoever was on the other end, he paled rapidly.
"What is it dearie?" the elderly McGee asked.
"It's the hospital. Timmy and Sarah were just brought in." Mr. McGee said, sounding exceedingly worried and slightly frantic, which was rather out of character for the normally unflappable Naval Officer.
Mrs. McGee blinked in confusion a couple of times before understanding dawned and she raced over to get her purse, not even noticing or caring that she was still dressed in a nightgown and bathrobe. As soon as Mrs. McGee corrected her state of dress, both of the younger McGees were out the door.
As the McGees got into their rental car, two suitcases appeared, one in the second guest bedroom and one by the couch which magically turned itself into a makeshift bed. Now scattered about the living-room of the Victorian home were a number of family photos that had not existed five minutes prior.
As she watched these changes take place, the elder Mrs. McGee smiled. It would seem that someone had taken her up on the old promise she'd made to Blackie when she'd told him "Once a Williamson, always a Williamson.", and later amended it to "McGee" before he moved on when the neighbors started to notice that he'd been around for more than twenty years. Back then, she had told him that if he'd ever stopped being a cat, he'd have a place to stay with her and hers, and it seemed that he was finally taking her up on that.
Blackie, and whoever he'd brought with him, would be good for her grandson. The poor man had grown bitter and cold over the last twenty years that he and his wife had remained childless, and needed someone around to melt his heart just as Blackie had gotten her over those dark and difficult days after she had lost her mother and youngest brother in an accident. He would of course have to get used to his new name but, then again, Thackary Binx had had dozens of names over the past three centuries...