Fiorella has a tree. Son finished constructing it for her after her hip gave out, and yesterday he and his fiancee decorated it with lights and ornaments. Last night it was bright and twinkling. Fiorella's heart is happy.
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When Fio was out shopping yesterday, the traffic was heavy, but polite and accommodating. True holiday spirit.
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Fio has a problem--she can't get hold of the name and home address of the guy who speeds through her driveway every morning at 5:30 a.m. to deliver the newspaper so how can she give him his Christmas tip? Set her alarm at 5:00 and lurk about on the front porch in her thick winter robe until his lights cut through the gloom, then hurl herself in front of his car with check and pen in hand? Put up a trip wire that attaches to a mechanism that lowers an envelope containing a twenty-dollar bill in front of his windshield?
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