Free Memory Tree by Joseph Pittman

the entire day together. Mark’s got the bar tonight.”
    â€œUm, do you think we can change those plans?” she asked.
    â€œI guess. Why? What’s up?”
    â€œI want to go see Cynthia and little Jake,” she said.
    Brian nodded. If that was what she wanted, that was fine. The Knights’ big announcement about moving hadn’t received much play either in the last few days, Janey barely saying a word about it. Like she didn’t believe it, and Brian didn’t blame her; he wasn’t sure he did either. A great new job for Bradley was on offer, a chance of a lifetime for them all. Those were all the pat words expressed Thanksgiving night, but with everyone around, Brian hadn’t had a chance to get the real story. Cynthia Knight leaving Linden Corners was like the wind no longer coming to visit, rendered impossible by nature itself. But all that could wait. Janey could have her day with them and he could get some repairs done down at the tavern, recalling the creaky wood floor. But he told Janey that he expected her back for dinner and she easily agreed. Brian left, returning to their spoiled breakfast, doing what he could to rescue its charred remnants. Janey arrived at the table not five minutes later, her familiar purple frog dangling from her hand. She set it on one of the place mats before she went digging inside the cabinet, withdrawing a bottle of maple syrup.
    â€œLet’s have the real stuff today,” she said. “You know, the kind we bought in Vermont on my birthday weekend last month.”
    He looked down at the fresh order of pancakes, turned one, satisfied with its brown coating but little else. “Sounds like a plan,” he said, his tone not unlike his mother’s.
    He’d gone cold with worry about Janey and ran through all that had happened already on this day. Portraits of her departed parents acknowledged, check. Stuffed purple frog she’d had forever clutched close to her, check. Mention of her recent birthday, check. Janey was sending out signals Brian could hardly miss, reminding him that while he was her guardian, her surname was indeed Sullivan, not Duncan.

    Brian had learned a lot about little girls in the two-plus years in which Janey Sullivan had been in his care, and the most important one was when she needed the attention of a mother figure. So when she grew silent around him and then moments later passed up their usual day together and asked to see Cynthia, he didn’t put up an argument, nor did he feel slighted. Brian Duncan knew the need would only grow exponentially as she stretched toward her teen years, and he realized he’d have to find a new role model for her.
    Cynthia Knight wouldn’t be around every day like she had been.
    Even without this supposed move, little Jake would grow up to be big Jake and he’d need Cynthia’s attention, and that was if they didn’t add to their family with another child. Perhaps it was a good thing his parents were coming to visit; perhaps Janey and his mother could establish a bond both could benefit from. Janey had a way of warming even the iciest of personalities, the thought leaving Brian with an image of Didi Duncan on one of the cruises she enjoyed. Iceberg, meet ocean liner. He laughed it off, knowing he was being too harsh.
    After dropping Janey off at Cynthia’s, he’d driven to downtown Linden Corners, done some needed shopping at Ackroyd’s Hardware Emporium, and then stopped at the Five-O for a tuna fish sandwich, wishing it was a BLT; he’d already had some bacon today, burned as it was. He forewent eating at the counter, not really in the mood for Martha’s twisted humor, and took his food to go, crossing the street and unlocking the front door to George’s Tavern, where, between bites, he screwed in the fresh lightbulbs he’d just bought. It was still an hour before the bar was set to open for the night, and even so, it was