Kiss Me, Santa by Suzanne D. Williams

Author:Suzanne D. Williams
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: holidays, Christmas, Christian fiction, contemporary fiction, romance, clean & wholesome, short stories, inspirational
Publisher: Suzanne D. Williams
Published: 2022-02-13T00:00:00+00:00

In her youth, she’d attended church with a friend a handful of times and mostly been uncomfortable, not knowing the lingo or how to behave. When she’d gotten old enough to choose whether or not to go, she’d pretty much avoided it for similar reasons and because the religious people she’d encountered had always been very judgmental.

Her aunt was a case in point. She’d judged Brutus from the start based solely on his appearance when his heart was made of gold. Looking at herself, she could make another point. People assumed a lot about her based on what they saw on TV or read in the news. There’d been a bit in the entertainment news before she’d come here about her and Randolph. Based on the picture and the caption, it looked like she and he were headed to the altar. Truth was, in many ways, they used each other – her for his social connections, him because he didn’t want to play the eligible bachelor anymore.

She’d picked up on that around date three. Sort of a date. Their outings together had always been preplanned based on who would be there while they were out. They were a showing, the pair of them a nice set of chairs facing the fireplace, each time in public used to generate talk. Randolph lived for talk.

Except for any talk that brought women flocking to his door. He’d encountered some greedy types, gold diggers, so to speak, and wanted to avoid them. She, on the other hand, wasn’t after his money but trying to smear some of his reputation onto her shoulders. He probably knew that; it hadn’t stopped him from continuing the relationship.

Trailing after her aunt inside the church building, Padgett did her best to smile and greet the parade of people she was introduced to, but after a while, their faces became a blur. Someone had decorated the stage with cheap Christmas décor: an artificial tree, a dozen red poinsettias, and on the right, a wooden cutout of a nativity painted by, what looked like, teenagers. Her aunt shooed her onto a pew toward the front. Padgett tucked her skirt beneath her. Ten minutes later, she stood again for the singing, mouthing the words to several sappy Christmas songs.

The preacher, a middle-aged man in blue trousers and a tweed sport coat, ambled toward the podium, a large leather Bible clenched in his hand. He set it down, opening the pages where his finger had them marked, then bowed his head and mumbled a prayer. He looked up afterward, roaming his gaze across the congregation, and seemed to halt it on her face.

“This time of year people come to church who’ve sidestepped it for the last eleven months. Well, except for Easter.” He stared at her a moment longer, then looked up. “Now you expect me to say something about how they’re ‘salving their conscience’ or simply ‘fulfilling familial obligations’.” He paused. “Or maybe you think I’ll preach about the role of the saints in drawing these to a fuller relationship with Christ.

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