Memory Tree by Joseph Pittman Page B

Trina, then poured.
    â€œYou new in town?”
    â€œOh, uh, sort of. I’m, really, I’m just passing through.”
    â€œHmph, seems I’ve heard that before. Guy who said that ended up living here.”
    Trina didn’t know how to respond, so she took a sip of coffee. Warmth spread to her insides as caffeine rushed through her bloodstream. She felt instantly awake, alive. “Wow, I don’t know how you do it, but that’s maybe the best cup of coffee I’ve ever tasted. Sara was right.”
    â€œSara? You’re just passing through but yet you know one of my girls?”
    â€œOh, she’s my . . . I suppose you’d say she’s my cousin-in-law. I’m Trina.”
    â€œOh sure, Richie’s girl. Name’s Martha Martinson, honey, and this is my establishment. Your father and I help each other out a lot. I serve visitors a meal, he gives them a pillow to place their heads, and we both benefit. Sorry to hear about his accident, but that’s real nice of you to come and help him out. Truth be told, I never knew Richie had a kid and I’ve known him a lot of years . . . Oh, I suppose that wasn’t so good of me to say.”
    â€œIt’s fine, Martha. I’m well aware of the strained relationship my father and I have.”
    â€œYup, guess you would be. So can I get you anything else?”
    â€œRight now, this is perfect. Is Sara around?”
    â€œShe was here earlier but I sent her home, despite her protests. She’s plumb tired and that baby’s ready to burst. Well, nice to meet you, Trina, but I gotta get my butt back to the kitchen. I’m short staffed and the lunch rush is coming. Gotta get my chili ready.”
    â€œNeed help?”
    â€œExcuse me, hon?”
    Trina found herself surprised by her own offer. Maybe it was the coffee fueling her, but she felt right now like she could walk several miles and not suffer any ill effects. “Richie’s not expecting me back until three at best, and I’ve got nothing else to do. So I could do refills, take some orders. You don’t have to pay me.”
    â€œEver waitress before?”
    â€œCollege. The local pub. Frat guys pinching my butt.”
    â€œWell, don’t imagine that happening here, though you may want to avoid Chet’s table.”
    She pointed to the booth where the two older men were chatting. One of the men lifted his empty coffee cup, beckoned to Martha for a refill. “I think I can handle him,” Trina said, and that was that. Martha brought her around the counter, handed her an apron and a pad, and set her off with a fresh pot of coffee, telling her any tips she made were hers to keep. So she poured refills for the man named Chet and his friend, and then she emptied a table of dirty dishes while Martha handled the young family’s bill, served a couple of omelets to a couple who’d just arrived and who couldn’t wait till lunch. As Trina zoomed about the busy diner, she felt her adrenaline pulsing through her body and a constant smile present on her lips, and she realized she was having the most fun she’d had in . . . well, a while.
    â€œHi, ladies. Can I get you refills?” Trina asked as she approached the two women at the back table.
    â€œYou’re a godsend,” one of them said. “Poor Martha’s been run ragged all morning.”
    â€œI’m happy to help her out, and Sara.”
    The other woman looked up at her. “How do you know Sara?”
    â€œShe’s my cousin . . . er, cousin-in-law. Mark Ravens and I are first cousins.”
    â€œWell, Mark and Sara are good friends of ours. I’m Nora; this is Cynthia.”
    â€œHi, nice to meet you. Trina.”
    â€œYou just moved to town?”
    â€œYes, about a week ago.”
    â€œJust you?”
    Trina wasn’t sure what they meant by that. “Excuse me?”
    â€œHusband, boyfriend . . . kids?”
    If this was a