The Tree of Death

  Mama led the two men through the house to the front door. I poured more tea and sat there, contemplating the sun through the gnarled branches of the old pepper tree. Mama came back and sat beside me.

  “I think they’re both interested in you,” she said.

  “Oh, do you?”

  “Yes. I have this feeling, you know.”

  “You and your feelings!”

  “Don’t laugh. Didn’t I have one the night that Frank-”

  “Yes, Mama.” I sipped more tea. “Okay, since your feelings are always so accurate, tell me this: Which one of them is going to be the love of my life?”

  “Neither of them, Elena. Neither.” Then she grinned wickedly. “But they’ll both be fun while they last.”

  Marcia Muller

  ***

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