Chapter 4
On the way to my new home on Sunder Lane, on the south end of town, I wander along Route 9 and notice an “Open” sign for Antiques & Lore posted on the shoulder of the road.
I step out into the crosswalk and walk in the direction of a two-way road leading to one of Phillip’s favorite Sunday morning outings. It is the answer to the last minute items on my Christmas shopping list.
I trudge through ankle-high snowdrifts to the store’s front door, brush snow and ice from the bottom of my boots, and pull the shop door open. As I step into the stuffy shop, the sound of electric wind chimes from a loudspeaker announces my presence. The pungent smells of eucalyptus and tea tree potpourri in the air prickle my nostrils.
I stifle a sneeze, as the owner, a fiftyish woman and our closest
