Free Grounded by Neta Jackson

been sick this week. So I was wondering—”
    â€œUh-huh. Sounds like you still oughta be in the bed.” The woman picked up the last two bags of groceries from where she’d set them on the snow.
    â€œI know … But I was wondering if one of your kids wanted to earn some money shoveling my walk. I’m way overdue getting it done.”
    Michelle Jasper paused and looked at her a moment. “Well, guess I could ask. Do you want Tavis—he’s thirteen—or my older boy, Destin?”
    â€œUh, either one would be fine. Thanks.” Grace smiled. “Well, guess I’ll go back in. Tell them I’ll pay twenty dollars.”
    The woman scoffed. “Good heavens! Don’t do that! Make it ten at the most or they’ll be spoiled, wanting more when other folks need a favor.”
    â€œOh. Well, I had no idea what to pay. I just know it won’t be easy. Some of it’s packed down from people walking on it. But I have some rock salt for the icy patches.”
    â€œFine. I’ll send somebody over. Probably Tavis. Destin will probably say he doesn’t have time. Basketball and all that, you know. Junior year. That boy keeps busier than both his father an’ me put together!” The woman nodded at Grace and headed up her own walk. “Well, better get inside …”
    Yeah, me too
.
    But as Grace turned back toward her house, something caught her eye across the street. A For Sale sign in front of the old lady’s two-flat. How long had
that
been there? And what did the brightyellow strip on top of the sign say? She wandered past her bungalow until she was directly across the street from the two-flat …
Foreclosure
. Oh, now, that was really too bad.
    She was really shivering now. Once inside, Grace peeled off her layers, pulled off her boots, and turned on the teakettle, blowing on her numb fingers as it heated. The walk had felt good, but maybe wasn’t the wisest thing. She hadn’t felt really cold until she stood still to talk to the woman next door … Michelle. Michelle Jasper. And the kids were Tavis and Tabitha. Could be twins. And the older one … Dustin? Something like that.
    The doorbell ding-donged. That was quick. She hoped the boy had brought his own shovel. If he didn’t, she’d have to go out to the garage.
    Oreo had run to the front door at the bell, curious as always. “Scoot,” she said, moving the cat out of the way with her foot so she could open the front door.
    But it wasn’t Tavis.
    A tall man stood on her stoop, shoulders hunched against the cold inside a long gray topcoat, red wool scarf tucked into the neck, wraparound sunglasses, no hat.
    Roger
.
    â€œHello, Grace.”
    Grace stared. Swallowed. “What are you doing here?”
    Just then a black-and-white fur-ball darted out the door, around the man’s shoes, and down the steps.
    â€œOreo! Catch the cat! He’ll freeze out there!”

Chapter 10
    Oreo seemed startled to find himself belly deep in wet snow. He stuck his tail up and let out a pitiful meow.
    â€œI’ll get him,” Roger said, stepping gingerly down the steps, backtracking in his footprints as if to save his shoes. “Stay there. You don’t have any shoes on.”
    Grace ran for her boots, not at all confident Oreo would let Roger get near. The door was still open, letting in a wall of cold air. But as she pulled on her boots, she could hear Roger coaxing, “Here, kitty, kitty … come on now.”
    She ran out onto the stoop in time to see Roger creep toward the cat, who’d made it to the front sidewalk. But just as Roger grabbed for him, Oreo took off across the narrow parkway between sidewalk and street, bounding across the deeper snow.
    Oh no!
Grace started down the steps, grabbing the cold iron hand railing.
What if he runs out into the street! What if—
    â€œGot him!”
    Grace jerked her head. The boy from next