by Irene Brand
“You look exactly like your grandmother,” she said, “although your eyes are a different color than hers.”
“Which grandmother?”
“Your father’s mother. She was an aristocratic woman, a cut above any of the other family. I never could understand why she married a Conley. Why did I, for that matter?” She shifted her eyes to Roger. “Is this your husband?”
“That’s getting to be a habit.” Roger murmured. Violet shook her head at him.
“No, this is Roger Gibson, a good friend, and a state police officer in Illinois where I live. He’s the one who received word that they were looking for your next of kin. I’m not married,” she added.
“After I’ve tried all of these years to shield you from the shame of my crime, I resent it that when I’m too weak to help myself, they contacted you. Please go home, Violet, and forget about this. They can’t make you take me, and it doesn’t matter to me where I die. In fact, death will be a release for me. I was given a life sentence without any chance of parole. So I expected to die here sooner or later. I know you’re only here because they’ve made you feel guilty. Well, don’t be. I release you from any obligation you may think you owe me.”
Violet sat down on a stool beside the bed and took her mother’s hand. The skin was dry, the fingers limber. She was amazed at the immediate affinity she felt with this woman when she touched her—a woman she no longer considered a stranger, but her mother. She had never before believed the old adage, “Blood is thicker than water,” but she believed it now.
“You’re right, I came here out of a sense of obligation—guilt even, if you want to call it that,” she said honestly. “I made the decision to come here because I believe I do have a moral and filial obligation to you. But beyond that, I want you to come to my home. I want to spend time with you—and take care of you. Don’t you think I have the right to my own mother’s company for a few months?”
After the words were out of her mouth, Violet looked up at Roger in amazement. She couldn’t believe she had said that, but she suddenly knew that she did want to give her mother a home. In spite of the problems it would incur, she didn’t mind taking her mother! In fact, now she hoped to persuade her to come. Roger lifted his arm in a gesture of approval, and Violet returned her attention to Linda Conley, whose face was flushed, her eyes closed, and tears slid from under her tight lids.
“What do you do for a living, Violet?” she murmured.
“I’m a schoolteacher, and I own my home, or at least, I’m making payments on it.”
“The actions of your father and I were enough to ruin your life, but it seems you triumphed in spite of us. I suppose it was Ruth’s influence. She must have been good to you. What about her?”
“Her husband died a few years back, but they both made me welcome in their home. Aunt Ruth is coming to spend a few months and help with your care, so that I can continue teaching.”
The guard tapped on the door indicating that their time was up, and Violet squeezed her mother’s hand gently before she stood up.
“We have to leave now, but I’ll sign the necessary papers today or tomorrow, and they will probably bring you next week. We won’t come to see you again before we leave tomorrow.”
Linda emitted a sigh. “I’m opposed to this. I think it’s a mistake. If they had left me to die in peace, you would never have been saddled with this responsibility, and no one would have connected you with me. As it is, you’ll have to pay for my mistakes.”
“You’ve already paid for your mistakes, Mrs. Conley,” Roger said. “I know your daughter well, and under the circumstances, she will suffer more if you don’t come to her home than if you do.”
“Let me ask one more thing,” Linda said. “Has your father’s family ever contacted you?”
“No. I don’t know who they are or even where they live. Aunt Ruth wouldn’t tell me anything…said I was better off not to know. That’s why she and Uncle took me to Minnesota to live, so the Conleys couldn’t trace me. I haven’t any desire to know my paternal relatives.”
Linda nodded assent. “In that case, I’ll be glad to come to your home.”
Violet thought she should kiss her mother, but she couldn’t bring herself to do so. She took her mother’s hand and gently squeezed it as she looked sympathetically into her eyes. She kept her eyes focused straight ahead as they went down the corridor—she couldn’t stand to see the unfortunate individuals who occupied this prison. Violet often thought that she had become somewhat hard-hearted during her teaching years, but nothing had ever stirred her emotions as much as the sight of that pitiful woman who had given her life.
Almost in silence, they checked through security, gathered their belongings from Angie’s office, made an appointment to see her early the next morning, and left the building. When they were seated in the car, he said, “Where to?” Violet couldn’t answer him. She had borne up well emotionally when she was with her mother, but reality had set in. She had longed for a mother all her life. She had a mother now, one with only a few months to live. Somehow, that didn’t seem fair. When her tears started, she reached for a tissue, and dabbed at her face. She turned her face and looked out the window so Roger wouldn’t see.
Immediately she felt his body close to hers, and he pulled her into his arms, cuddling her face on his shoulder. Sobs racked her body, and he rocked her back and forth. Once she felt his lips on her hair, while in abandonment, she poured out her frustrations in tears—frustrations that had been accumulating all of her life. Even as a child, she had seldom cried, but now the bitterness of the years washed out of her mind and soul to be replaced by a peace she had never known. The flood stopped as quickly as it had started, but Violet rested on Roger’s strength for a few more moments, content to be held close. As soon as she left Roger’s arms, she had a new life to start, and although she anticipated the challenge, it seemed so final to lift the cloud that had heretofore shielded her from the past.
She pulled away from Roger and looked out the window. “Don’t look at me. I must look awful.” She reached in her purse, took out a compact and some tissues, and looked in the mirror. With a groan, she said, “This face doesn’t need a tissue, it needs major surgery.”
Roger laughed and turned her face toward him. “You couldn’t help being beautiful if you tried. I want to tell you how wonderful you were in there.” He nodded toward the prison. “You convinced your mother that she was welcome, otherwise, she would never have agreed to leave prison.”
“I really meant that I was glad to have her come, and that amazed me as much as it did her.”
Roger started the engine of the car. “We need to find rooms for the night. There’s a big motel a few miles down the highway.”
“Let’s stay there if we can, and I’ll telephone Aunt Ruth as soon as we register.”
When they arrived at the motel, Violet handed her credit card to Roger. “Use this for both of our rooms,” she said. “I don’t want you to be out any money for helping me.”
“Now you’re being ridiculous,” he said. “I’ll pay for my own room, but I’ll compromise—you can buy my dinner.”
“With pleasure,” Violet said, “but I was serious about paying for the room, too.”
Violet’s room was across the hall from the one assigned to Roger. He carried her bag into the room and snapped on the lights. “Let’s take an hour to rest,” he said. “This has been a stressful day, Violet, and tomorrow won’t be much better. But I think you’ll rest tonight.”
“Yes, I’m finally at peace with my decision. I realize that I have a lot of hurdles to cross, but I know now that it’s the right thing for me to do.”
Violet stood on tiptoes and kissed Roger’s cheek. “And thanks so much. I’ve been thinking all day about a proverb that speaks of ‘a man who sticks closer than a brother.’ Well, I’ve never had a brother, but you’ve been that kind of friend for the past week. I appreciate it more than you’ll ever know.”
“Yo
u don’t have to thank me.” Roger pulled her hair with a gentle tug. “I’m just happy I could be there for you. See you in an hour.”
Chapter Four
It was ten o’clock Friday evening before Roger and Violet arrived home from Topeka, after having made arrangements to have her mother brought on Wednesday. Violet wanted to sleep late on Saturday morning, but she couldn’t spare the time. She had many things to do before her mother came. She would have to make an appointment with Pastor Tom, and she certainly had to talk to Larry before the news circulated around the city. Right now, only she and Roger knew about her impending house guest, but once a few others knew, the news would travel as fast as wildfire among her acquaintances. Larry had to be told, but she didn’t know whether he had returned from the conference in Florida. She decided that if she didn’t hear from him tomorrow, she’d leave a message on his machine. Perhaps they could talk on Sunday, before school. She’d prefer the privacy.
As she washed up breakfast dishes, wondering how to explain the situation to him, Larry telephoned her.
“I was wondering if you had returned,” she said. “Did you have a pleasant time in Florida?”
“The weather was great, but we were kept so busy we didn’t have much time to loaf around. I did take time for two afternoons of golf. Our plane was late yesterday, so I didn’t get home until midnight—I thought that was too late to telephone.”
“I was sleeping by then.”
“I’m over at the school now, checking to see what had happened while I was gone. I notice you had two days of personal leave. That’s unusual for you.”
“I had an emergency family problem that I had to take care of, and I really need to talk to you about it. Since you’re at the school building, may I come over for a few minutes?”
“Of course.”
“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”
When she entered the principal’s office Larry’s eyes brightened. He circled his desk and kissed her cheek.
“I’ve missed seeing you this week,” he said.
“It’s nice to be missed.” He seemed a bit disappointed that she hadn’t said she had missed him, too, but in truth, Violet was happy that he hadn’t been in Maitland during the trying week she had just finished.
He drew her to the couch behind his desk and continued to hold her hand. “Now, what’s your problem?” he said with a smile.
Violet had spent hours on the way home from Kansas debating how she could tell Larry about her mother, and she had finally decided that there was no easy way to lead up to it.
“My mother, who is serving a life sentence in a prison in Kansas, is dying with cancer. The authorities are paroling her into my care for the few months she has left. She will be brought to my home on Wednesday.”
A look of shock and abhorrence swiftly spread across Larry’s face, and she wished she had been more diplomatic in her revelation.
“You told me your mother was dead!”
“No, I didn’t. When you asked about my parents, I chose my words very carefully, and I said, ‘My father died when I was two years old, and my mother is gone, too.’”
“You certainly gave the impression that she was dead.”
“It wasn’t a lie—she has been gone for over twenty years. I never saw her while I growing up. Perhaps I should have told you the full story, but it’s not pleasant to admit that your mother is in prison for murdering your father. Besides, I needed a job, and I didn’t think anyone would hire me if they knew about my family background.”
The distress on Larry’s face deepened, but Violet ignored it and continued, “Until Thursday, I don’t remember ever seeing my mother but one time.” Briefly, Violet told him of her mother’s conviction, her refusal to have any contact with her family, their move to Minnesota, the telephone message that Roger had received, and how, at first, she had been opposed to taking her mother.
“You’ve been disturbed that I’ve been seeing Roger so much lately…that’s the reason. He’s been helping me make decisions about how to handle this. In fact, he went with me to Topeka this week. It was helpful to have someone who had some firsthand knowledge about prisons.”
She saw Larry move away from her physically and felt him move away from her emotionally. “I wish you had talked with me before you made your plans, Violet. I know you can’t help what your mother did, but to have her here will cause problems in the school, as well as the town. No one will like having a murderess living in Maitland.”
Violet shuddered when he said the word, murderess.
“Once they see her, it will be obvious that she isn’t a threat to anyone. She’s so weak she can’t even walk without assistance. I doubt she will live two months.”
“Then she should have remained in prison and not disrupted your life. How will this affect your teaching?”
“Aunt Ruth is coming to stay with me, so that I can continue my work. We’ll manage.” Violet stood up. “I’ll leave you to your work now,” she said, motioning to the large stack of papers on his desk. “I wanted you to know this before anyone else, for I intend to have Pastor Tom mention my mother’s arrival from the pulpit in the morning. The news will spread quickly then.”
“I don’t see why you have to be so open with your private affairs. If you didn’t say anything publicly, no one need know that she has been in prison.”
“I’ll admit that I contemplated that option, but I doubt that we could have kept it secret. Her health records will be forwarded from the prison to the local hospital. The news media will probably have a heyday with the parole of a prisoner sentenced for life, without mercy. After I discussed it with Roger and Pastor Tom, we decided that the truth was the best path to follow.”
“A principle you might have employed with me,” Larry said caustically, “both as an applicant for a job here and in our social life.” He might as well have said that if he had known about her cloudy past, he would never have dated her.
“I deserve that, Larry, so I won’t take offense, but both my parents were dead to me. I couldn’t remember either of them. That would have been difficult to explain on a résumé or during a job interview.”
Violet was almost home before she realized that Larry hadn’t mentioned a date, although for months they’d had a standing date on Saturday nights. Well, she had given him a rough jolt, and right now, he was probably trying to figure out how to tell his mother. Violet felt upset by Larry’s reaction, though in her heart, she’d expected it. Instead of stopping at her home, Violet continued down the street to the church. Her heart lifted at the sight of Pastor Tom’s car, in its designated parking spot. She parked and found him in the sanctuary with the custodian checking out the lighting system. When he saw Violet, he came to her immediately.
“I’ve been thinking about you this morning, wondering if you had returned.”
“Last night, and my mother will arrive on Wednesday.”
“Come into the office,” he invited, and closed the door behind them. “How can I be of help?”
“Roger and I discussed many pros and cons on our drive back from Topeka, and we finally concluded that it would be well for you to make a brief statement about the situation at the end of the service tomorrow morning and tell the congregation that I need their prayers. Do you think that would be appropriate? I know that I should make the announcement, but I’m too emotional about the situation to speak about it publicly.”
“It sounds like a good plan to me, and I’ll be praying to find the best words. I’ll also be praying for your strength to handle this. I admire you, Violet. It took a lot of courage to make the decision you did.”
Violet nodded and looked down at her hands. It was good to know she had the support of friends like Pastor Tom, but if Larry’s reaction was any indication, many others in town weren’t going to be as sympathetic. In fact, she expected many to be downright hostile.
Dreading to have her personal life aired to the community, Violet entered the sanctuary apprehensively th
e next morning. Usually she counted Sunday morning worship with her friends as the highlight of the week, so it seemed strange to dread today’s service.
First Community Church had been established twenty years ago to minister to the needs of the underprivileged in the area, but through the ministry of the congregation, the majority of the disadvantaged had become viable citizens, and life in the community had improved as the local residents had become involved in the church fellowship.
Inside the redbrick building the high ceiling was arched with heavy walnut buttresses supporting the roof, and the sanctuary had always reminded Violet of a European cathedral. The stained glass windows, dedicated in memory of deceased church members, illustrated the seven sayings of Jesus when He hung on the cross. As she sat in her customary place, Violet fixed her eyes on the window that showed Jesus looking down at his grieving mother, bearing the inscription, “He said unto his mother, ‘Woman, Behold thy son!’ Then saith He to the disciple, ‘Behold thy mother!’”
The artist had depicted Jesus with a compassionate half smile on his face, and Violet felt blessed in the presence of that smile. No matter what malignity she might suffer in the coming weeks, she could always bask in the assurance that Jesus approved of her compassion toward her mother. During his agony on the cross dying for the sins of all mankind, He didn’t forget the needs of his mother. Could Violet Conley do any less?
The choir’s singing always uplifted Violet’s spirit, and today’s musical message particularly soothed her troubled mind. The director had chosen the anthem “I Want to Be a Friend” by an unknown author.
Day by day as we travel the road of life,
We meet many whose lives are filled with strife.
Dear Lord, in all that I do or say,
Make me a blessing, a friend, to those people, I pray.
The high sopranos sang in descant the words Make me a blessing, O Savior, I pray through most of the anthem, and the words filled a void in Violet’s heart. “Lord, I do want to be a blessing to my mother. Show me the way,” she prayed.