Free Getting Some Of Her Own by Gwynne Forster Page A

could be a friend, provided he didn’t become too competitive. She wanted to stop by her shop, but didn’t for fear that Willis would think she was checking on him. Instead, she stopped in a curio store, bought a tiny dancing figure that she saw in the window and went on to her house by the lake.
    That afternoon, at the end of the tutoring session and after she left the classroom, Susan gave the little dancing monkey to Rudy. The child hugged her leg.
    â€œThanks, Miss Pettiford. I’m going to hide this so nobody can get it, and I’ll just play with it after I go to bed.”
    She took Rudy’s hand and walked with the child to her car. “It’s beginning to rain. I’ll drop you home. Why can’t you play with the monkey whenever you like?”
    â€œâ€™Cause one of the other children will take it, and my mom won’t make them give it back.”
    â€œHow many children does your mom have?”
    â€œFive, but I’m the only one who isn’t hers. I don’t have a real mom anymore. A policeman killed her and a man over drugs.”
    She stopped walking, turned Rudy to face her and asked the child, “Who told you that?”
    â€œMy foster sister. I don’t like her ’cause she’s mean.”
    What could she say other than a meaningless, “Try not to think that way, Rudy.”
    She stopped at 316 Salem Court, three blocks from the railroad and let the little girl out of the car. “See you next Tuesday, Rudy.”
    Rudy slid over and hugged Susan. “I can’t wait, Ms. Pettiford. Bye.”
    Half an hour after she got into her apartment, the telephone rang. “Susan, this is Lucas Hamilton. I need to speak with you urgently. Can we meet somewhere, or may I come to your place?”
    Taken aback, she said, “This is a surprise, Lucas. What’s so urgent that you need to see me right now?”
    â€œIf it wasn’t important, I wouldn’t deign to take up your time.”
    Deciding that tangling with him wouldn’t be prudent, but feeling nonetheless flippant, she said, “Pick the place.”
    â€œThanks. I’ll be over there in twenty minutes.”
    Gaping at the soundless telephone receiver, Susan felt trapped. She had expected him to refuse her offer and to ask her to choose their meeting place. For a few minutes, she debated whether to look stunning in a red jumpsuit or to greet him in the jeans and cowl neck sweater that she had put on minutes earlier. “I’m not primping for him,” she said aloud and busied herself packing belongings that she would take to her house. Her last thought before answering the door was that the evening would not end as it did the one time he’d been in her apartment.
    â€œHi, Lucas. Come on in and have a seat in the living room. I’ll bring us some tea.”
    â€œThanks. You couldn’t make that coffee, could you?”
    Susan made coffee, glad for the few additional minutes in which to collect her thoughts and emotions before facing him. She put a pot of coffee, cups, saucers, spoons, sugar and milk on a tray, along with some gingersnaps and went back to him. He stood, took the tray from her, put it on the coffee table and sat down.
    â€œIt seems that I interrupted your packing.”
    â€œThere isn’t much to pack,” she said, rubbing her hands together. “Only a few personal things and linens. Everything else is in New York, packed and waiting to be shipped. What did you want to see me about?”
    He ate two gingersnaps. “I like these. Always have.” If it were pleasant, she decided, he’d get on with it. She leaned back against the sofa and waited. “It’s about Rudy Baxter. You’re taking a big risk. The child will become dependent upon you, and that’s not a good thing.”
    â€œJust because I gave her that little monkey and drove her home so that she wouldn’t get soaking wet, I’m