The Christmas Clock and A Song For My Mother: A Kat Martin Duo

by Kat Martin

“I know. It’s all right, baby. I’ve got you now.”

  Timmy clung to her. He was icy cold and shivering but he wasn’t crying. She smoothed the light brown hair standing up on his head and kissed his cold cheek.

  “Let’s get you both into the car where it’s warm,” Patrick said. “I’ll drive you to the hospital so we can get Timmy checked out.”

  She looked up at him. “Do you really think that’s necessary? He’s been through so much already. I just … we just want to go home.”

  Patrick smoothed the little boy’s hair. “He seemed fine when we found him. I think taking him in to his own doctor tomorrow would be all right.”

  She nodded, felt a sweep of relief. “Yes, that’s a good idea.”

  “I’ll get the car and turn on the heater. The two of you can climb inside and warm up.”

  He started to walk away but she caught his arm. “Thank you, Patrick, for finding him. Thank you so much.”

  He reached out and touched her cheek. “I wouldn’t have given up, Em. No matter how long it took.”

  Emily made no reply but that soft touch somehow eased the tightness in her chest. She looked past him as he walked away, saw Reed coming out of the forest. Anna McAllister walked beside him. The legs of her gabardine pants suit were covered with mud, her brown hair no longer neat and tidy.

  They walked straight over to where she stood still holding Timmy in her arms.

  “I’m so sorry,” Anna said. “I... I don’t know what happened. One minute I was standing at the jewelry counter, the next, Timmy and I were in the woods. Only I thought he was my grandson, Nathan. Once I began to think clearly, I realized we were lost. You left your boy in my care and I was frightened to death something would happen to him.” Her eyes welled with tears and a broken sob escaped. “I’m so sorry. So terribly, terribly sorry.”

  Patrick drove the car up just then, saving Emily from a reply, which was good since she had no idea what to say. Having once been a deputy’s wife, she knew Reed would be taking Anna to the hospital for a mental evaluation. Even after what Anna had put her through, Emily felt sorry for the woman.

  “You’d better get in where it’s warm,” Reed said. “Patrick can drive you and Timmy to the hospital.”

  “We’re going home. We’ll see the doctor tomorrow.”

  He nodded. “That’s probably a good idea.”

  “What... what about my car?”

  “We’ll take care of it.” Reed held up her car keys. “I dug them out of your purse.” Which she had forgotten in her rush to reach Timmy.

  Reed put the handbag on the seat beside her while she and Timmy settled themselves in the back of the Sheriff’s car. With the heater blasting, the hot air felt incredibly good.

  She leaned down and kissed the top of her little boy’s head. He was already asleep against her shoulder.

  Patrick put the car in gear and started driving away. Through the rear window, she saw the people of Dreyerville waving, wishing them well. Tears burned her eyes, blurring her vision. Emily waved back, a silent thank-you for all of their help.

  As the patrol car drove past where Reed stood next to Marly Hanson, Emily raised a hand in thanks for the words Marly had said.

  A mother just does the best she can.

  Emily looked down at the son she loved so much and through her tears, she smiled.

  13

  Tired from a night of uneasy sleep, Marly walked into the kitchen Sunday morning. With the oven on, the kitchen felt warm and inviting. Her mother stood at the window, looking out at a day far more cheerful than the day before.

  “Katie’s out front talking to Megan Jeffries,” her mother said, drawing her attention. “She lives three houses down. They met yesterday during the search and seemed to hit it off. Megan is really a sweet little girl.”

  Marly walked over to the window and looked out into the front yard. Katie was there, talking to a little girl with chin-length, silver-blond hair. Both of them were smiling, laughing as if they were already friends.

  Marly’s chest constricted. It was so good to see her daughter happy. After the illness, Katie hadn't seemed to know real joy until she got to Dreyerville.

  “Are you ready for a cup of coffee, dearest?”

  Marly thought of the decision she had made sometime during the night. “More than ready.”

  As Winnie walked over to pour them each a cup, Marly steeled herself for the conversation she was determined to have. It was past time she talked to her mother. There were things Marly needed to know. Things she needed to say.

  It was time to set the past aside so both of them could move on with their lives.

  Her mother filled two mugs and handed one of them over. Marly blew on the surface of the coffee to cool it but mostly to give herself some time. She took a sip of the rich, dark brew, felt the warmth of it sliding into her stomach. Not sure how to start, she just jumped in.

  “It’s been a long time since we really talked, Mom. I need to know... why did you stay with Daddy all those years?”

  Caught off guard, Winnie raised her eyes to meet Marly’s.

  “I know you loved him,” Marly persisted. “But now I realize you loved me, too.”

  Winnie’s expression softened. “Of course I loved you, sweetheart. You were my child. My greatest joy. I would have given my life for you.”

  “You say that now but what about then? Virgil was a drunk and an abuser. He hurt you time and again. I begged you to leave him. Every time the subject came up, we fought about it and you refused to go. You let him ruin both of our lives.”

  Winnie smiled softly. “But your life isn't ruined. Look at you. You've put yourself through college. You've become a teacher. You have a wonderful little girl. I knew that about you, Marly. I knew how strong you were. I believed you would make it, no matter what it took. But your father was weak. He needed me. Desperately.”

  “That's what you always said. He needed you. No matter what he did, you always came to his defense. You always protected him.”

  Her mother carried their cups over to the kitchen table and sat down. She looked as if she were trying to make a difficult decision.

  “I swore I would never tell you this. I made a vow to your father. But Virgil's gone and it's time I made amends for the mistake I made not telling you all those years ago.”

  A little chill slid through her. Marly set her coffee mug on one of the round blue knit coasters her mother had sewn. “What was it, Mother? I really need to know.”

  "Virgil told me about his childhood. He said if I was going to marry him, it was only fair I knew the truth. You see, his mother—your grandmother—was... Rose Maddox sold herself for money.”

  Marly's eyes widened. “Rose was a prostitute?”

  Winnie shook her head. “Not a streetwalker, nothing like that. Rose picked up men in bars, or in the cafe where she worked, places like that. She slept with them and in return, they gave her money.”

  Marly couldn't believe what she was hearing. She had never known her father's mother. Rose Maddox had died when Marly was still a baby.

  “She didn't do it by choice,” her mother continued. “She was in her thirties when she fell in love with a married man and got pregnant. There was no chance of him getting a divorce. She was a poor woman even then and once she was carrying his child, he broke off with her completely. He never gave her a cent and in those days, women couldn't just go down to the welfare office and pick up a check. Even a woman with a baby had to make it on her own.”

  Marly said nothing. She had never heard any of this before. She could hardly believe she was hearing it now.

  “Rose was desperate. She had no way to buy food or pay rent. Virgil said there were days he went to school with nothing to eat but a biscuit made of flour and water. They lived in a tiny trailer out in the woods and he slept on the floor. He was there even when his mother entertained her men... friends.”

  “Oh, my God.” She had never known much about her father, never known his
secret past. “Go on... please.” Her hands were shaking; she slid them beneath the table so her mother wouldn't see.

  “I think Rose did the best she could but times were hard. And as Virgil grew older, he reminded her too much of the man she had loved who had treated her so badly. Until Virgil and I met in high school, I don't think anyone had ever really loved him.” Winnie smiled sadly. “But I did. I loved him from the day I met him. And I never cared about his past.”

  Marly's throat ached. “That's why you stayed. Because you loved him—and you pitied him.”

  “That's right. And because of the man he was before the fire. No matter what else he was, your father worked hard and always provided for us.”

  “Oh, Mom.”

  “Virgil had a heart condition. You didn't know that. He was a smoker, and of course, there was all that smoke from his job. The doctors warned him if he didn't quit he wouldn't last long. I told myself it would only be a couple more years until you went away to college. You wouldn't have to deal with him then. But I couldn't leave him. I couldn't hurt him the way his mother had.”

  Marly's eyes filled with tears.

  “I made a mistake all those years ago. I should have left him. Or maybe if I had explained, you would have understood.”

  Marly got up from her chair and her mother rose as well. Marly walked toward her, opened her arms, and Winnie stepped into them. Both of them just held on. It felt so good, so right to be there. So many years had passed. All of them had suffered so much.

  There were tears in their eyes when they finally let go. “It’s all so sad,” Marly said, wiping the wetness from her cheeks.

  “I don't think Virgil ever had a chance to be the man he should have been.”

  She thought of the father he had been before the fire and wondered if that might not be true.

  Winnie reached out and took hold of her hand. “Will you and Katie stay for Mother's Day?” Her eyes were damp, her lips trembling. “Please say yes.”

  Marly's heart swelled. She didn't have to be back in Detroit until her summer school job started. “We'll stay. There's nowhere else on earth we'd rather be.”

  A sob came from her mother's throat. “I love you, dear child.”

  “I love you, too, Mom.”

  And because she did, she would never tell her mother what had happened that last night. The night Virgil had come drunkenly into her bedroom when she was pretending to sleep and fallen on top of her. As she struggled beneath him, she'd been terrified of what he meant to do.

  “I love you, Winnie,'' he had said and she realized he didn't know he was in the wrong room. “I need you. I need you so much.”

  Marly had shoved him off the bed so hard his head cracked against the wall. Then he lurched to his feet, staggered into the living room, and passed out on the sofa.

  Winnie hadn't heard him come in, and since Marly didn't want to cause her mother any more heartache, she kept silent. She walked over to where her father lay and looked down at him. There was a time she had loved her dad so much. But she no longer knew this man he had become. She stifled a sob and told herself she had to be strong, had to do what needed to be done.

  Aside from feeling shaken and out of hope, she was okay, but it was past time for her to leave. She knew for certain now that her mother would stay, no matter the pain she might suffer.

  Marly had to escape. She couldn't save her mother but she could save herself.

  And maybe Virgil would treat her mother better if she wasn't there, always a thorn in his side.

  That night, Marly had walked away.

  It had taken twelve long years for her to return.

  She looked at her mom, and the years fell away, the hurt and the pain, the sorrow and loss. Now only love shone between them.

  A sweet ache rose inside her.

  Marly was so very glad that she had come home.

  Epilogue

  Dreyerville

  Five Years Later

  Winnie sat in a polished walnut pew in the lovely old Presbyterian church she had attended since she was a girl. Next to her, Marly sat beside her handsome sheriff husband. Their three-year-old boy, Matthew, perched beside Reed, and Katie sat next to Ham.

  Marly had returned to church the Sunday after little Timmy had gotten lost and then been safely returned to his mother. They say the Lord works in strange ways and Winnie believed it was true.

  The events of that day had drawn Marly and Reed together and they were so very happy. It seemed as if they were made for each other. Reed had once told Winnie he had known Marly was the right woman for him almost the moment he had met her. He loved her spirit and determination and her amazing resilience.

  Winnie looked down the pew at her beautiful family. Katie’s gleaming blond hair had grown back and she wore it pulled into a neat little ponytail. Marly wore her soft curls loose around her shoulders, the way her husband liked it. Both Ham and Matthew had their fathers’ good looks and thick, dark brown hair.

  Katie’s tests had all come back clear. She had made it five years cancer-free. Winnie’s granddaughter was going to live a long, full life, another blessing to be thankful for on this Mother’s Day Sunday.

  Winnie glanced over at the pew to her right. Emily Murphy sat next to her husband, Patrick, and their son, Timmy, now eight years old. Three years ago, Emily and Patrick had married and Patrick had formally adopted the little boy. Not long after the incident at the mall, Emily had gone back to work at Suzy's Boutique. She was the store manager now and did all of the buying. It was often remarked that Emily Murphy was responsible for making the ladies of Dreyerville the best-dressed women in the county.

  Marly had said that Emily was worried about returning to work with a child to raise but Patrick had encouraged her. She did just fine holding down a job and taking care of her family.

  Marly was also a working mother. Winnie’s friend Mabel Simms had recommended her for a teaching job at Dreyerville Grammar School. As Marly’s relationship with Reed continued to blossom she had decided to take the job. She was a very good teacher and she loved working with the kids.

  Winnie’s gaze flicked to Reed. She saw him gently settle a hand on Marly's slightly rounded stomach. The pair looked at each other and grinned. Next year, with God's blessing, the Bennetts would have another child to bring to church on Sunday mornings.

  Marly turned in Winnie’s direction, reached over, and caught her hand. Neither of them took their relationship for granted. They loved each other and they wouldn't let anything or anyone take that love away from them again.

  “Happy Mother's Day,” Marly whispered.

  Winnie's eyes misted. “Happy Mother's Day, dear heart.”

  Lying on the front step outside the church door, Rufus’ ears perked up as he listened to the sound of footsteps coming up the aisle. The service was over.

  It was time for him to take his family home.

  As the years slip past and my mother grows old, I think how empty my life would have been if I hadn't returned to Dreyerville. If having a daughter of my own hadn't forced me to confront the past, to acknowledge the deep and abiding love I felt for my mother and to realize how deeply she had always loved me. How grateful I am that fate interceded and brought us back together, allowing me to tell her the way I felt.

  How thankful I am that the song I wrote for my mother did not remain unsung.

  Author’s Note

  I'd like to thank you all for revisiting Dreyerville in A Song for My Mother, a story written about the special bond between mothers and their children.

  Ionia, Michigan, was again my inspiration, a lovely little town in the heartland that in many ways seems not to have changed since the turn of the nineteenth century. If you enjoyed this book and haven't read The Christmas Clock, the first in my Dreyerville series, I hope you will look for it.

  If inspiration strikes, it is my fond wish to write another Dreyerville story, perhaps one set around the Fourth of July, one of my favorite holidays.

>   Till then, all best wishes and happy reading.

  Kat

  A Conversation with Kat Martin

  What was the inspiration for the title, A Song for My Mother? Is there a particular song that inspired you to write this novel about the complex relationships between mothers and their children?

  Actually, the title is a metaphor. It speaks to the trouble children have in communicating the love they feel for their parents. In this story, Marly has never expressed her love for her mother. As the tale begins, it is a song that remains unsung.

  Readers of your previous book, The Christmas Clock, will be delighted to revisit the town of Dreyerville in this story. Did you know that you would return to this setting? Why? What does this town represent to you?

  I didn't start out with Dreyerville in mind for the second book but after visiting the small Michigan town that is, in reality, Ionia, just east of Grand Rapids, I knew I wanted to go back. The charming, nineteenth-century village represents old- fashioned values, the days when honesty, courage, loyalty, and integrity were more valuable than they seem to be today. Eventually, I may do more Dreyerville stories.

  What are some of the challenges of writing a novella versus a novel and how did you deal with them?

  As I tend to write sparsely in all of my books, writing a novella poses less of a problem for me, perhaps, than for other authors. I'm a person who loves brevity, which is clear in my novels. Less is more to me. In a story as poignant as this one, the novella works perhaps better than a full-length novel.

  You have created wonderfully flawed female characters in A Song for My Mother. They have complicated relationships, make tough life-changing decisions, and are at times pretty hard on themselves. What do you hope to teach your readers through each of these extraordinary women?

  I tend to think of women in general as being strong, tough, and solid—the sort often forced to deal with difficulty and make hard decisions. Maybe younger women haven't yet realized the problems they will likely face at some point in their lives. Perhaps a story like this teaches that whatever happens, they can face the situation and overcome it.