Getting Some Of Her Own by Gwynne Forster Page A

Catholic. You want to go?”
    â€œSure. Come on.”
    Leaving the church after service, she encountered her neighbor, Cassandra Hairston-Shepherd and her husband.
    â€œSusan Pettiford, is it?” Cassandra said. “This is my husband, Kix Shepherd.”
    â€œI’m so glad to see you again, Cassandra. Hello, Kix. I moved in a few days ago. This is Jay Weeks.”
    They exchanged greetings, but Cassandra did not suggest that they get together. Nor did she linger for a brief chat.
    Kix glanced at his wife, frowned and then spoke to Susan. “The Greer house is a celebrated house. I was fond of your aunt, and I regretted her passing. I hope we’ll be good neighbors, Susan.”
    â€œThank you,” Susan said. She noticed that while Kix spoke with them, Cassandra walked on.
    â€œCassie,” Kix called to his wife, “would you please wait.” Cassandra stopped, but she did not turn around.
    Kix shook hands with Jay. “I hope to see you both again.”
    Although she couldn’t quite put her finger on the reason, it seemed to Susan that Cassandra’s marriage needed bolstering.
    She liked Kix Shepherd at once, for he seemed more down to earth and was certainly friendlier than his wife. Jay had his own ideas about Cassandra. “That dame’s got a helluva estimation of herself.”
    â€œYou’ve met her before?”
    â€œOf course I have. She designed my logo and stationery.”
    â€œYou’re not serious.”
    â€œOh, but I am. She’s a real piece of work. You’ll see.”
    As she had done for most of her life, Susan went to church Christmas morning, and it pleased her to see there at least one person who she knew: Nathan. The boy came up to her holding the hand of an older woman.
    â€œMiss Pettiford, this is my grandmother.”
    â€œHow do you do, ma’am?”
    The woman, who Susan judged to be about sixty or sixty-five, extended her hand. “I’m glad to meet you, Ms. Pettiford. My name is Ann Price. Nathan talks about you all the time. He thinks you’re a saint.”
    â€œHe’s a wonderful boy,” Susan said. “Does he live with you?”
    â€œLord, yes. I have three children of my own. Two of them have gone about their business and left their children with me, and I have custody of my younger son’s child. Altogether, I’m raising five kids. This one’s the youngest, and he’s a blessing. Never gives me a bit of trouble.”
    Susan spoke with the woman for a few minutes, wished her and Nathan a merry Christmas and left them. Some people were blessed to have children, but didn’t appreciate their good fortune. If she had . . .
    â€œDon’t start that, girl,” she admonished herself.
    Shortly after she arrived home, the phone rang and she rushed to answer it, wondering who her caller might be. “Merry Christmas, Susan. This is Lucas Hamilton. I hope you’re enjoying your home and that you’re feeling more chipper than when we were last together.”
    â€œMerry Christmas, Lucas. I am indeed in better spirits.”
    â€œGlad to hear it. All good things for the new year.”
    â€œThanks. Same to you.”
    â€œBye for now.”
    She hung up. Surely he hadn’t called only to tell her merry Christmas! She lifted her shoulder in a shrug. It seemed that he had.
    The next time the phone rang, Susan answered it and heard the voice of her mother, Betty Lou Pettiford. “Honey, I’m so sorry I couldn’t get there for Christmas, but so many people here need me, I just couldn’t make myself leave. I hope you’ve found someone to share the holiday with. I do miss you.”
    â€œI’m so glad you called, Mom. It’s just as well you didn’t come. I moved into Aunt Edith’s house, and I’m remodeling the kitchen, so it’s torn up. I know you can’t stand chaos.”
    â€œDon’t joke. That was then. Over