Melinda and her husband Mike used to go all out at Christmas time, decorating every inch of the house, inside and out. It was her favorite holiday. One of the traditions, Melinda brought from her childhood was the family setting up the tree the first Sunday of December. Nowadays, it was not just their kids, but grandkids as well. The sounds of children giggling, a serenade of Christmas melodies, make that day extra special. This year however just wasn’t the same, because her husband divorced her and married a woman half her age. Now all she does is grumble and say “Baahumbug, and to hell with Christmas!”

However, the coming Friday was Christmas. Instead of celebrating, she would spend the day sleeping late, enjoying a TV dinner, while watching one of her old taped movies, like “Gone with the Wind.” Or so she thought, the phone rang. When she answered it, it was her mother. She was calling to invite Melinda to come home for Christmas, after all she was only forty miles away. As usual, mom wouldn’t take no for an answer.

“But Mom, I don’t feel like celebrating, it brings back too many painful memories.”

“I know dear, but it doesn’t do you any good to sit alone in that big house and sulk. You must come and spend a few days with us, after all honey, it will do you good. Now tell me you will come, please.”

She frowned and spit out her tongue, knowing dang well her mom would gripe forever, if she didn’t. “Okay, Mother, if it will make you happy, I come. I start my holiday time this Wednesday, and could leave after supper, that way I should miss most of the heavy traffic. Now I don’t want you to plan anything special just because I am coming to visit mother!”

“Oh, I won’t dear, it will be a joy just to see you again. You know it’s been over two years since we spent Christmas together. I hate the idea of you spending it alone because of that damn husband of yours!”

“Ex-husband mother, his choice not mine, so I do what I can to move on. Please don’t say his name out loud, in my book; he will remain nameless.”

“Okay honey, see you Wednesday.”

Melinda and her mother bade each other goodbye. She then went into the bedroom and began packing and planning. One big suitcase would be all she needed. She’d pack the car early, eat a bite, check the weather, and leave there around six pm. After all it shouldn’t be that hard to make the journey home, weather permitting. Following that she went shopping to buy presents nevertheless; she didn’t want them to think she was a scrooge.

That Wednesday she slept late, mainly because it would take all her energy to endure her mother’s busybody attitude, and yapping voice. She chuckled to herself, “Oh I just know she could play the wicked witch in the movie “The Wizard of Oz,” and win an Oscar.”

She made a last minute check to make sure she hadn’t forgotten something, and then loaded up the car. Next, she fixed a bite to eat, and sat down to watch the weather channel. She almost bit her tongue, when she heard the weatherman say, there was a 40% chance of snow that afternoon. Dang-it, if it were up to her, she wouldn’t go anywhere with a forecasted storm front moving in. Maybe she could leave a little earlier and get home before it came through. She did up the dishes, and headed out; hoping she could miss the storm.

She had only traveled about ten miles when it began to snow, lightly at first, then within a few minutes, heavier. Not the kind of wispy gentle snow often portrayed in images of Christmas, but heavy with flecks of ice beating down heavily on the windshield making it very hard to see.

She grumbled, “God-Damn weather! I should’ve known I couldn’t drive home without something happening.”

Melinda thought about turning around and heading home, it wouldn’t hurt her feelings at all to do so. On the other hand, she knew she would feel as guilty as hell the rest of the day, and through the holidays, because she always told everyone, ‘Family was important, and they need to be happy especially at Christmas time.’

She signed, shook her shoulders, and prepared for the tedious drive. To keep her spirit up, she put “Trisha Yearwood’s The Sweetest Gift” CD into the player. Music always calmed her troubled spirit.

Luck must have been sitting in the front seat with her, because there wasn’t much traffic on the road. Nevertheless, the nasty weather had slowed her car down to a crawl at thirty-five miles per hour.

She began thinking about her own life. For a woman of fifty-six Melinda still considered herself sexy. A five-foot-four full figured vivacious woman with long red hair, and emerald-green eyes. Her shape was a turn on for most men. They desired a woman with a little meat on her bones, not a skinny ones that slipped through their fingers like a bar of soap.

She glanced at the car clock, five-pm, and it was already growing dark. That was okay, if she was careful, she’d make it home by nine.

A traveled about another mile down the road and saw a car pulled off to the side with its emergency flashers on. When she got closer, there stood someone waving their arms madly trying to flag someone down for help. Every time a car passed, they got drenched with the slush. At first, she hesitated in stopping, because it might not be a safe idea. After pondering things awhile, she decided why not, it was Christmas and no one should spend it stranded. Slowing down, she pulled off the road behind the vehicle, and noticed the person, was a man.

He approached her car, and she rolled the window down. His sapphire-blue eyes were alluring and his smile lit up his whole face. “Thanks lady, I was beginning to think no one would stop!”

“Your welcome, looks like there isn’t much of the Christmas spirit around nowadays.”

“I hear yah; I’ve been standing her for fifteen minutes.”

Melinda eyed him up and down and noticed that due to the sleet, snow, and slush, he was drenched. Yet, she could make out that he was tall, muscular, had piercing blue eyes, and jet-black hair.