A Christmas Melody
“You must be Melody. I’m Karen. Nice to meet you.”
Melody hadn’t realized that Karen was her first name until that very minute. “Oh, hi. Nice to meet you, too,” she said, taking the hand the woman offered. “You look familiar. Have we met before?”
“I’m not sure,” Karen replied, looking at Melody closely. “We’ve lived here a few years. It’s such a small town, we’ve probably bumped into each other at some point.”
“Right,” Melody chuckled. Then a memory hit her and she said, “Wait—are you Kayla’s mom? Did your daughter take piano lessons from my dad?”
Bab Populer