Christmas at Harrington's by Melody Carlson

And perhaps it would be better here on the outside as well. No, she’d quickly decided, bitter was better. And weakness, she’d learned early, was preyed upon. It served no purpose and could even make an inmate appear weak. Self-pity was something she’d learned to suppress while incarcerated. Pasty round face, weary blue eyes, and dishwater blonde hair in need of attention. Lena tried to peer out the window, but due to the darkness outside and the reading light from the passenger in front of her, all she could see was her own dismal reflection. Was the driver speeding, or was this just one more thing she’d forgotten during her eight years in prison? They were moving so fast that Lena felt dizzy. As if on high alert, she watched the bus zip out into the freeway traffic. Maybe she could use the space to lie down and really sleep. She’d been lucky to snag two seats together. Her stomach rumbled as the bus left the lights of Indianapolis behind. Scooting next to the window, she clutched her handbag in her lap with trembling hands. He jerked his thumb backward.Īs the bus lurched forward, Lena found an empty pair of seats near the back and quickly ducked in. Thanks, she gasped breathlessly as she handed him her wrinkled ticket.

Hurry up, lady, I’ve got a schedule to keep. You were cutting that mighty close, he told her as he opened the door for her. She waved her arms, calling frantically to the bus driver. Instead, she was running down the sidewalk with the icy wind in her face and her purple parka flapping wildly behind her like a parachute. If not for the librarian’s nudge, since the library closed at six, Lena would probably still be sleeping.

While reading a recipe for cranberry cake in the December issue of Better Homes and Gardens, Lena had dozed off, lulled by the warmth, the flickering fluorescent lights, and the sweet, musty smell of books. But with two hours to spare, she had ducked into the public library to use the restroom and escape the elements, then found a comfy easy chair. The bus leaves promptly at 5:15 and there won’t be another until tomorrow morning. The slate-colored sky matched Lena’s spirits as she sprinted toward the bus stop.

Christmas at Harrington's by Melody Carlson