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Carefully, she slid off the ribbon and unfolded the first page The writing was dense, but two lines at the end popped out:

Sincerely, and ever your Loving,

Sorrow

"Well, what do you know?" She’d known all her life that hers was a fa it written by the owner’s own hand felt thrillingly personal "Which Sorroere you?"

She plopped onto her bottom An icy puddle seeped into the seat of her jeans, but she didn’t care She’d read the date at the top of the letter--1851 This could be frorandmother, the first and saddest Sorrow of them all, Sorrow Crabtree

Four

Marlene Jessup sat behind the wheel of her Ford pickup, shaking She’d skidded off the road right into a snowbank

The old truck acted light as a feather--or at least the back end of it did--and it had the nasty habit of fishtailing all over the road at the first hint of flurries By the end of winter, there was always a bed full of snoeigh her down, but these early season dustings were always tough

She’d have loved a nice car, so like Volvo or Audi, but when her husband left, he’d taken half of their already lean bank account and stuck her with the pickup

He and his new squeeze lived in Pinole now, in so some fancy new pickup The hell of it was, his neasn’t even thatless if he’d left for soer in blame But Frank had left her for so to do with pharmaceutical sales--and soon they’d both retire, at which time they’d probably buy that boat Marlene and Frank had always talked about, and they’d travel the world

So her boat

And Marlene was left with the old Ford, two elderly aunts, and an ailing mother to care for, haunted by questions of where she rong

Not going there, as her grandson would say She put the truck into reverse, willing her hands to stop shaking It wasn’t even that cold, da sound, her tires spinning uselessly

Damned pickup It had one of those le her aunts into She’d wanted a sedan, but Frank had insisted She slammed her hands on the wheel She had no use for a daet unstuck, she’d be late to pick up the ladies Her aunts and mother were a trio, the faest a spry eighty-two

And if she was late to pick the, and then she’d never hear the end of that The ladies lived for their h trouble on that front, as it was She’d stupidly taken on the role of chairwo and funding the annual Sierra Falls festival

It was one of the many quirky events Northern California was known for Gilroy had their Garlic Festival Other towns had cherry blossoms, chili cook-offs, art walks, and quilt shows For Sierra Falls, it was the Spring Fling held every May It was just January yet, but their coffers were eo till they were blue in the face, and it wouldn’t be enough to cover a pie-throw et to that irl Just back us out of here, and I’ll buy you a nice set of snow tires"

Marlene hit the gas only to hear that horrible, high-pitched whirring again With a heavy sigh, she sank her forehead against the wheel

She’d have to call one of her boys, but which one? Though Jack and Eddie lived the closest, she’d hate to bother them--they’d started Jessup Brothers Construction and had been running around like one-arers ever since

There was always Jack’s wife, Tina, but she was never around during the day Or hter-in-law only seemed to disappear whenever Marlene needed her God only kne the woh school and almost co around, driving carpools Regardless, Marlene wasn’t about to call her

She couldn’t call Mark either--he was a doctor in Silver City, and as she recalled, this was his on-call day

That left Scott He worked as a park ranger for the Sierra Nevada Conservancy--his truck would surely be able to get her unstuck He was her second oldest, her easy, s boy