Page 6 of Greek’s Christmas Heir

That was a gift, too, though it didn’t quite feel like one just at present.

The nativity play kept going. Little Tommy Vanderburg was finding a head of steam as he took a little poetic license with the innkeeper, who was his older brother Amos and therefore happy enough to give it right back.

Constance stopped looking at Brandt Goss, because it didn’t matter what he thought.

She knew her grandmother better than he did because she’d known what her grandmother thoughtabouthim, and it was hardly as complimentary as he seemed to believe. Dorothy Jones had not been one to mince words. Dorothy had known Brandt his whole life and had thought he was a fool, and she had possessed precious little patience where fools were concerned.

It wasn’t Constance’s fault that Brandt had interpreted that as evidence of a sweeter disposition than Dorothy had ever claimed for herself.

What was his fault, she thought, shifting uncomfortably on her feet and wishing she could sit down to take a bit of the pregnancy load off, was the way he’d taken it upon himself to share his thoughts on Constance’s pursuit of motherhood with half the county.

It’s shameful, is what it is,he’d told everyone who would listen. And had eventually told Constance to her face.There are ways to go about having a family, Constance. And it’s not going to a clinic in Ohio.

Constance had wanted to say,What would you suggest I do? Drive down to Des Moines? Get drunk, hit the bars, hope for the best?

But she hadn’t. And not only because people whispered that a night like that was how Brandt had come by the first of his grandchildren.

One of Constance’s great regrets in life was that she had not inherited her grandmother’s delightfully sharp tongue. She had only smiled at Brandt.Not everyone is as lucky as you and Marlene,she had replied calmly.With all six of your kids.

Brandt had not been appeased. Possibly because all six had left town, and the state of Iowa, as quickly as possible after graduating high school.

She had wanted to mention the possibility that his children’s geographic choices were commentary on his own parenting, but had graciously refrained.

That had been her guide to this entire pregnancy, and the many appointments and preparations before it. Constance had been given almost a whole year now to come to terms with the fact that she didn’t really know the people in her town at all. She would’ve sworn she had, having lived here her whole life.

But she had never seen what they were like to someone they thought had made a mistake.Shehad never made any mistakes before. Her parents had died in a snowstorm when she was a teenager and she had lived quietly with her grandmother ever since. The town had been treating her like a geriatric old lady for years now.

They did not like the reminder that she wasn’t one. She supposed the way they saw her was part of the reason—though she hadn’t fully understood it until she’d already started down the path of her pregnancy—why she’d decided that she could not possibly turn thirty without changing her life.

It wasn’t that Constance didn’tlikeher life. On the contrary, she had always been quite pleased with it. She didn’t make much at the nursery school, but then, she didn’t need much. Her grandmother had imparted a lot of wisdom over the years. Much of it having to do with how to economize, how to make do, how to get by with a few clever purchases and a little common sense.

She was certain she could live quite contentedly just as she always had.

But after Grandma Dorothy passed, Constance was all alone.

Oh, she had a house full of ghosts. Beautiful ghosts, who she loved deeply. But it didn’t matter how many times she talked to the photographs on the walls, or made merry with her own memories. The facts were still the facts. She was the only one of her family left.

Having lived in Halburg since before she was born, she knew every single eligible male in the county. It was all well and good to think that she ought to pick one of them and settle down. The trouble was that she’d never felt the slightest urge to get to know any of them better than she already did.

It wasn’t that she waspicky.Or Constance really didn’t think she was. She daydreamed about finding the right person and living happily ever after like anyone else. But she did think that on a basic, fundamental level, a person should only marry someone who theyfelt somethingfor.Anything. Polite interest wasn’t enough for alifetime.

She felt sure of that, somehow.

Constance knew that Brandt and his cronies found that laughable. They’d all decided that she was putting on airs, slapping the local men in the face by rejecting them all so thoroughly and going the clinic route instead of finding herself a nice husband to do the honors.

She’s always been a nice girl,she’d heard Brandt say one day.

She had been in the back of the church while he was holding court in the lobby. He’d had no idea she was there, she was sure. Or she wasnearlysure.

But it’s clear to see that when Dorothy left her that money, it went straight to her head.

It was bad enough that he’d said it. It was worse that everyone around him had agreed.

It wasn’t that Constance had expected that they’d throw her a parade. But also it wasn’t the nineteen fifties. She hadn’t been on a date in her entire life, and not because she was slapping eligible men in the face or because she had such airs about her.

No one had ever asked.

Maybe she would have found one of them more interesting if they had.

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