“You’ll have one of each. And my baby will have a cousin about his own age.” She grins. “Perfect. I tried to get here earlier, wanted to scoop up a bit of the party, but my friends and I were like … My time ran away.” Tara shrugs.

“Here’s some cookies for you.” I hand her an extra dozen of the pecan balls.

Sissy is still talking with Charlene when Tara enters. “Here’s my ride,” Sissy says and stands.

Charlene retrieves paper and a pen from her purse and begins writing. “Let’s get together,” she says. “Here’s my number.”

Juliet gives Sissy a hug. “So good meeting you.” And then hugs Tara.

Jeannie asks, “Have you started contractions yet? Those Braxton Hicks?”

“Maybe the baby’ll be born on Christmas day,” Taylor says as I follow Sissy into my bedroom to help her with her coat.

Sissy pulls her coat from under another one and I hold it for her so she can easily slide her arms into the sleeves.

“Thank you, Marnie. This was a wonderful party.”

“I’m so glad you could come. And glad that Tara has you for her baby’s grandmother.”

Sissy laughs. “Not sure about Aaron yet, huh?”

I’m impressed with her straightforwardness.

“I guess neither one of us could be completely sure about any man.” She shakes her head, her short dreads dancing all over her head.

I laugh, because she’s right. Unfortunately, right for all of us. “I’m working on it with Jim.”

“Aaron’s okay for a young dude.” Her words minimize the gleam of pride on her face.

“I think he’s sincere and they sure have passion for music in common.” I look at her, seriously look at her, and say, “He loves Tara. I know that. Thank you for showing him to me tonight.”

“That was all for you. Well, mostly for you.”

We’re feeling our way to each other, making an alliance from the serendipity of being tossed together by our children.

“I figure, if they love each other and share so much, some of that’s got to be in us,” she says. “You and me.” And she points to each of us.

Her candor is never abrasive. “I appreciate how you put things on the table. You don’t allow invisible elephants to be covered by the rug in the middle of the room.”

She laughs. “This is new for both of us. I never expected a half-white grandchild.”

“Me either.” And we both laugh. “It wasn’t really the racial difference, though, but the fact he’d been to training school.”

Nodding her head and then raising those fine brows, she says, “I didn’t like that, either. Not one bit. But Aaron is on the other side of all that, wiser from the struggle.”