Memory Tree by Joseph Pittman Page A

Absently gazing at her husband’s strong chest, oddly comforted by the thick hair that covered it, she let out an exhausted, contented sigh. Like his masculine presence served as her protector, albeit a preppy one.
    â€œMy mind is thinking, thinking, thinking. Can’t shut it down.”
    â€œThinking about what?”
    â€œAbout Janey, and the fact that I need to do something special for her this Christmas. She had an idea, and I for one think it’s perfect. The kind of surprise she’ll adore.”

C HAPTER 6
    T RINA
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    T he signs of Christmas had begun to crop up everywhere she looked, colorful lights brightening the downtown area, wreaths of holly with red bows and jangling bells displayed on almost every front door and business, the smiles on the faces of the residents of Linden Corners indicating they were in the mood for all this holiday cheer. All that was missing was the snow. To Trina Winter’s knowing point of view, it looked more like Christmas in sunny Florida than in cloudy Upstate New York, the lack of palm trees notwithstanding.
    The rainstorm that had swept through the region two nights ago had blown tree branches bare, leaving in its wake the final swath of fallen leaves lying along sidewalks and curbs. It had also taken the warm weather with it, and finally a cool breath filled the air to the point where she could see a misty spray of her own breath. Surely that first snowfall was just around the corner; it would infuse this town with a much-needed final piece of scenery for their rumored Christmas celebrations.
    She’d spent most of the afternoon at the Solemn Nights Motel, but feeling like the walls were closing in on her, she’d asked Richie if it was okay to take a break. So he hobbled over and took command of the front desk, staring aimlessly out the window, watching for any traffic that might slow down at the sign of the motel. She had a sense that’s how Richie spent most of his days, waiting to serve the needs of transient travelers whose names he would learn only if they were paying by credit card. Otherwise, guests could jot down any name, pretending to be whomever their fantasy dictated. Was that what occupied his mind during those lonely stretches of time, trying to imagine the lives of the people who came to and went from his rooms? From what she could gather, it was mostly businessmen and truckers, though the night of the storm had seen three families stop in the course of one hour as nervous mothers convinced their husbands to rest rather than risk driving in the pouring rain.
    She bypassed the Five O’Clock Diner this time, her onetime volunteer stint successful but not something she was eager to repeat; no matter, peeking through the windows of the diner she could see her cousin-in-law, Sara, carrying a couple of plates toward hungry patrons. My goodness, her belly was large enough to balance a plate on. Lights adorned the outside of Martha’s diner, creating an impressive ring of color that could be seen far down the highway. Hers blinked, no doubt intended as a way of attracting further attention. One of the families to seek refuge at the Solemn Nights had mentioned how they had dined there and been sent over by the owner, so she guessed Martha and Richie indeed had a good thing going.
    Across the street, George’s Tavern was also decorated with a rainbow of lights, but as it was only three thirty in the afternoon, the place wasn’t yet open for business. She directed her attention down the street to the village park, complete with a gazebo blazing with light upon the expansive, still green lawn. It was a comforting image, Rockwell-like, and she supposed with a coating of snow and icicles perched on the side of the roof, it would look even more ideal. It almost put her in a Christmas mood, something she would have not thought possible. Holiday times for her were days spent at the beach. But she swerved away from a visit