Chapter 2

January 31, 2019

“Be careful on that ladder,” Memory said, staring up at her older sister Kirsten as she took another step higher toward the top of the Christmas tree.

“You mean like this?” Kirsten asked, leaning backward at a precarious angle and waving one arm around, though the other still gripped a rung.

“That’s not funny!” Memory glared up at her, holding firm to the ladder to steady it.

“Relax, sis. No one’s going to the hospital today.” Kirsten reached the top of the tree and carefully pulled the angel tree topper off, handing it down to Memory, who let go with one hand to take it.

Memory studied the angel for a moment. This was her grandmother’s favorite piece. Every year, when the girls’ dad, Bryce, placed it on top of the tree, Grandma Helen would tell the story of how Grandpa Joe had brought it home from a business trip to London when they’d first gotten married, back in the late 1960s. It was one of Memory’s favorite stories because Grandpa Joe had searched high and low for the perfect gift for his bride. The auburn-haired angel, dressed in a white gown with golden trim, had a beautiful porcelain face and held a candle. The angel bathed the entire tree in a glow that warmed the room and Memory’s heart.

She carefully handed the item over to her dad who waited with bubble wrap in hand to package it up. The angel had been the inspiration for her grandmother to open her own little shop on the square downtown, years later, when she decided everyone deserved special Christmas pieces in their lives. Memory had worked there with her in high school, and now that she’d finished her bachelor’s in business, her plan was to take The Memory Box to the next level. She was already working hard to make the shop an online presence. Grandma Helen didn’t care about any of that—she just loved sitting behind the cash register visiting with all of the folks as they came in to look around.

“Are you all right, Grandma?” Memory asked, glancing over at Helen who was overseeing operations from a chair by the window.

Helen smiled, though her eyes were only half-open. “I’m fine, dear. Just a bit of indigestion. I’ll be all right.” She chuckled, but something seemed off. Grandma was never happy on the day they packed up all the Christmas decorations, but today, she seemed unwell.

“Can I get you anything?” Bryce asked, carefully placing the angel in its own plastic bin.

“I’m fine,” Helen insisted. “Just need to rest my eyes.”

Memory took a few steps closer to her grandmother, noticing her coloring didn’t look quite right. Grandma Helen had just turned 72 last month, and while she had some health problems, she was still able to get around well, working at the shop almost every day and never missing a Sunday at church. “Grandma... do you want some water?”

“No, dear. Please, don’t worry over me. We need to get this tree put away. We can’t have a Christmas tree up in February. Not outside of the shop anyway. “ She laughed again, but it sounded forced.

“Maison will be over soon with the kids,” Kirsten said, handing the ornaments from the top of the tree down to their dad now that Memory had stepped away. Remembering she was supposed to hold the ladder, she went back, thinking the last thing they needed was for Kirsten to fall. She had a newborn son to take care of and a three-year-old daughter.

“Good, good,” Grandma Helen said, her voice sounding as if she were about to fall asleep. “I just love that little Lorelei. Reminds me of my Ann. And that baby Anson is precious.” Her voice trailed off, and Memory assumed she’d fallen asleep.

Kirsten came down from the ladder. “I don’t like this, Dad. I don’t think she’s well.”

A lump formed in Memory’s throat as she braced the ladder for her sister, her eyes turning back to her grandmother. Grandma Helen had been Memory’s best friend for as long as she could remember. Not only did they work together at the shop, Memory had moved into Grandma Helen’s house when she’d returned from college. When Memory was away at school, she’d called her grandma every night, and they’d decided it would be a big help to Grandma Helen if Memory lived with her and helped run the shop. Memory enjoyed living in the historic home, and she loved spending so much time with her grandmother.

Memory swallowed hard as her dad put the ornaments down on top of a bin and slowly walked over to Grandma Helen’s chair. “Helen?” he called, quietly. “Are you all right?”

Memory watched as her father reached out to his mother-in-law, placing his hand on her shoulder. “Helen? Helen!” Her hands flew to her mouth—she’d known something wasn’t right. “Kirsten—call nine-one-one,” Bryce insisted, shaking Grandma Helen, gently at first and then more vigorously. Tears streamed down Memory’s face as she heard her sister speaking to the emergency dispatcher. Grandma Helen wasn’t opening her eyes....

In the window behind her, three cardinals landed on the branch of an evergreen tree—one bright red and two brown. They flittered around together, calling a happy tune, as if they had just been reunited. Sirens blared in the distance, but they didn’t leave their branch, and seeing them, Memory remembered what her grandmother always said about cardinals. Another tear slipped down her cheek, rolling off, landing on the container that held the Christmas angel.