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More ofSusan’s stories can be found here.
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SusanSandspulls her stories from the very Southern settings where she grew up in rural Louisiana. She is the published author of nine full-length Southern romantic novels and four novellas. Her tenth book will be released by Tule Publishing in May of 2024.Susan’s novels are currently available in digital, print, and audio from all online retailers and many independent bookstores.
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Once Upon a Christmas Party
CHRISTY HAYES
ChapterOne
Erin Collier zippedher white parka and tucked her chin into the handmade scarf Mrs. Granger had knitted for her last year at Christmastime, dodging the bitter East Tennessee wind and a mound of dog poop someone had left steaming on the edge of the snow-covered road. She tugged on Fluffy’s leash and pulled her neighbor’s Bichon away from the offensive pile. “No, Fluff. Leave it, girl. We’re better than that.”
She also knew better than to leave that kind of mess in someone’s yard for others to get in a lather about and start the Cherry Creek Reserve neighborhood grapevine humming, especially in the throes of a harsh winter when most residents were hibernating inside. With more than a little snow on the ground and the self-imposed isolation of winter upon them, it didn’t take much to get the neighborhood tongues flapping. She found the extra disposable bags she carried for such occasions in her pocket and removed her mitten to dispose of the offending pile properly.
Bent over as she was with the plastic covering in her hand, Erin didn’t see the large truck come around the corner until it was almost too late. She yanked on Fluffy’s leash, pulling the small dog out of the road and away from the speeding vehicle. “What the …,” she said to no one in particular. Fluffy wasn’t listening, not with Mr. Johnson’s terrier barking at them from his perch on the couch by the sunroom window. “That truck almost ran us over.”
Her indignation was short-lived when she realized the truck belonged to a moving company and had pulled onto Cordial Lane—the only street in the fifty-five plus neighborhood with a recently sold home. The former owner suffered the effects of a recent stroke, and she’d had to move into the retirement community on the other side of town. The home had only been on the market for a few days before the sold sign had gone up and the construction trucks had arrived, sending the gossip mill into overdrive with speculation over their soon-to-be new neighbor.
Erin stood, tied a knot in the baggie, and adjusted her route to get a sneak peek at CCR’s newest homeowner. No sooner had she turned onto Cordial Lane when another speeding vehicle blew past, blaring its horn, and jolting Erin nearly out of her skin.
The driver of the luxury SUV didn’t even slow down as the snow in his wake dusted their faces and caked their coats, leaving Erin in a fuming state of disarray and Fluffy shaking in her too-thin sweater. “Unbelievable!”
Erin wiped the snow from her eyes and would have marched right over to give the street racer a piece of her mind about speeding in a residential neighborhood filled with old people, but Fluffy had other ideas. The dog put the brakes on and whimpered when Erin tried to encourage her forward. “Come on, Fluffy. Don’t you want to tell this guy off? Let him know he’s not more important than his neighbors?”
Fluffy didn’t care. She stood shaking in the near-freezing temperatures and bone-chilling wind, refusing to take another step in any direction that didn’t lead her home.
“Okay, okay,” Erin said. “I guess I should cool off before I dress down our new neighbor.” As head of the CCR welcome committee, Erin needed to calm her temper before presenting their newest homeowner with his or her welcome-to-the-neighborhood basket and recapping the lame but necessary community rules. She gave the black sports vehicle one last snarl and made her way back to Fluffy’s home two manicured streets over. Fluffy would settle in for her afternoon nap and Erin could fill Mrs. Wilson in on her first interaction with their new neighbor.
Erin’s phone rang just as she’d stopped to deposit the baggie of dog poop into Mrs. Wilson’s trash can. She used her teeth to pull off her mitten and answered the call with a smile in her voice. “Gram. How’s Costa Rica? You miss the Tennessee winter yet?”
Her grandmother gave her signature smokey laugh. “Not even a little. How are you faring, sweet girl?”
“I’m hanging in there. We had our first snow of the season a couple of days ago. It looks like you’re going to miss another white Christmas.”
When Louise chuckled, Erin felt a longing deep into her bones to hug her grandmother. Her grandmother was both young and young at heart, but Gram had been gone too long for Erin’s comfort.
“Good,” Gram said. “I’ve had enough white Christmases to last a lifetime. Besides, I prefer white sand Christmases—and you would too if you’d ever leave that hamlet you call home.”
“It’s our home, and howcould Ileave when you’re never home?”
“All you have to do is hop on a plane.”
“Who would water the plants?” Erin asked. “Who would pay the bills? Who would make sure the pipes don’t freeze while you’re off on another adventure?”
Her grandmother had the nerve to scoff. “Sweetheart, they make automatic watering thingies. I pay my bills online, and if the pipes freeze, one of my nosey neighbors would call me and a plumber as soon as they shuffle to their phones.”
Anyone overhearing their conversation would assume Erin was the seventy-six-year-old grandmother and Louise was her twenty-seven-year-old granddaughter who’d moved in two years ago and had never left. “You’re lucky to have such wonderful neighbors.”
