by Kat Martin
It had taken him years to recover, to make a life for himself, to find his rightful place in the world. Then Syl had come back and his peaceful existence threatened to crumble, just as it had before.
Every time he saw her, a haze of anger settled over him. He wanted to make her pay for all the suffering she had caused.
He wanted to erase all the pain she had endured, the fear and the heartbreak.
He wanted to turn back time, wanted to be there when she needed him.
Today, he had discovered, he just plain wanted her.
Joe sighed as he stared out over the water. No other woman had ever stirred him the way Syl could with a simple smile. No other woman had ever heated his blood with a single glance. He thought he was over her, had told himself so a thousand times.
Now he realized he would never be over Sylvia Winters.
And the question became, what the hell was he going to do about it?
Rainy weather set it. Dense gray, flat-bottomed clouds loomed overhead and the temperature began to drop. Doris put the final touches on the little Pinocchio statue she was painting, coloring his floppy hat a rich, deep blue that matched his shoes and then she set the figurine down to dry on the kitchen table.
Through the walls of the kitchen, she could hear the faint buzz of Floyd's saw cutting small round holes in the wooden birdhouses he sold over at the mercantile. On impulse, Doris grabbed a mug and reached for the gently boiling teapot on the stove. She dropped a bag of Earl Grey into the mug, added a heaping teaspoon of sugar, just the way Floyd liked and dunked the bag a couple of times. A second impulse had her setting the mug down on the counter long enough to untie the apron from around the waist of her jeans and pull up the sleeves of her sweater. Then she grabbed the mug and sailed out the door.
When she reached the garage, she paused, though she wasn't quite sure why. Just to catch her breath, she told herself, using the moment to smooth an errant strand of pale hair back into the neat chignon at the nape of her neck.
Inside the shop, she spotted Floyd where he stood behind the jigsaw, an average man, bald and a little overweight. Doris smiled and held up the steaming mug in answer to the unspoken question in his eyes.
“It's so cold and blustery,” she said. “I thought this might warm you a bit.”
Floyd looked surprised and a little uncertain. She rarely invaded his domain and she couldn't remember the last time she had done so simply to bring him a cup of tea.
“You didn't wreck the car, did you?”
Her bright smile wobbled. She shouldn't have come. “Don't be silly. I just thought you might like something warm to drink.”
Floyd took the mug, bent his head over the cup, and inhaled the brisk aroma. “Smells good.” He took a small sip and looked up. “You sure nothing's wrong?”
She managed to keep her smile in place. “Not a thing. Like I said, I just... I thought you might like some tea.”
He grunted a reply and took a drink and a sort of calm seemed to wash over him. “Thanks.”
Turning away from her, he took another sip, set the mug down next to the saw, and went back to work. For several long moments, Doris stood there watching him, a soft yearning in her chest.
Then she turned and walked back to the house, wondering what had possessed her to come out to the shop in the first place.
7
Syl sat at Doris's kitchen table sipping jasmine tea. They both liked it sweet and hot, especially on a cold, rainy day like this one, though Syl took hers with a little milk or cream.
Doris blew across her mug, cooling it a bit. On Saturdays, she only worked till noon and it was well past that now. “Teddy came over for a visit yesterday. He likes to watch Floyd work. I told Floyd he had to be careful with the saw whenever the boy was around.”
“Teddy seems to be interested in anything he can build or repair,” said Syl. “He's smart and he's incredibly sweet. I worry what will happen to him.”
“So do I." Doris took a sip from her mug but over the rim, her eyes remained on Syl's face. “Teddy mentioned his fishing trip last weekend. He said he had a picnic with you and Joe out at the lake.”
Syl's shoulders tightened. “It wasn't a date or anything. I drove out to take some pictures. The fall colors were just so pretty, I couldn't resist. When I got there, Joe was there with Teddy.”
“So how'd it go?”
“How did what go?”
“I might be getting old but I'm not that old. I saw the way you looked at him that day at the supermarket. I saw the way he looked at you. You could feel the sizzle in the air from at least ten feet away.” Syl had finally told Doris the truth, that she had broken her engagement to Joe because she had been fighting cancer.
“I think we both feel some of the old attraction. I'm sure it's just physical. We were in love once. Maybe both of us fantasize a little about what it might have been like if we had stayed together.”
“If you're attracted to each other, why don't you do something about it? Joe's not married. Neither are you. What's to keep you from exploring where that attraction might lead?”
Syl shook her head. “Too many hard feelings. I don't think Joe will ever be able to forgive me for the years he spent in prison. It was my fault and…”
“Hold it right there, missy. What happened to Joe Dixon was caused by Joe Dixon. Sure, your leaving left him an angry man but it wasn't you who threw the punch that wound up killing a man.”
“No, but still...”
“Joe isn't a fool. He might like to blame you for what happened. It's a lot easier that way but deep down, he knows the truth. In time, he'll come to grips with the way things were then and the way they are now. You just need to nudge him along in the right direction.”
A sad smile rose on Syl’s lips. “I can't do that, Doris. Even if you were right and we started dating, it might not work out. If it didn't, I couldn't survive losing Joe again. I'm just not willing to take the risk.”
Doris was about to start arguing when flashing red lights lit up the kitchen walls. Since not much happened in the sleepy little town of Dreyerville, both women set their mugs down and raced over to the window.
A police car rolled up to the curb in front of Lottie Sparks’s house. There were two policemen inside the vehicle. One got out and opened the rear passenger door to let someone out, while the other started toward Doris's house.
“Oh, good Lord,” Doris said. “Something must have happened to Lottie.” She ran out of the kitchen, and Syl followed. When they stepped out on the porch, the officer who had been driving was climbing the front porch steps.
“Are you Mrs. Culver?” He was young, blond, and good-looking. He didn't seem old enough to be a policeman, though it was clear he was.
“Why, yes, I am. Is Lottie all right? Mrs. Sparks ... is she all right?”
“She’s had some trouble.” He flicked a glance at the house next door, where the other patrolman, tall and rangy with light brown hair, escorted Lottie inside. “It seems she drove her car down to the post office then couldn't find her way back home. She parked the car and walked back to the post office to ask for help and they called us.”
“How did you know where she lived?” Doris asked.
“Driver’s license.”
“Oh ... yes, of course.”
“She said we should speak to you. Apparently, the two of you are friends.”
“That's right. I've known Lottie Sparks for more than twenty years.”
“Will you be able to pick up her car? She's not going to be able to drive anymore.”
“I can take you down to get it,” Syl offered. “Then you can drive it back to the house.”
“She's parked at the corner of Elm and Fifth,” the policeman told Doris, “and you'll need to keep her keys.”
“I understand.” Doris accepted the car keys the officer handed her. “She hardly ever drives anymore. The post office isn’t that far away. She usually walks but it's been raining off and on. I guess that's
why she drove there today.”
“Alzheimer's patients often forget what they should or shouldn't be doing,” Syl added softly.
“I had a hunch that was the situation here,” said young Officer Collins, the name on his badge. “We see this kind of thing fairly often with elderly people. I hope she doesn't live alone.”
“She ... um ... lives with her grandson.” Syl didn't add that the boy was only eight years old. She would speak to Dr. Davis, see what should be done, and keep an eye on Teddy until they could figure things out. Considering what had happened today, it was clear Lottie couldn't take care of Teddy any longer.
"Is the boy underage?" the officer asked, the question falling like a blow.
Syl looked over at Doris.
"I'm afraid so," Doris said.
The officer took a notepad out of his shirt pocket and scribbled down a note. “I’ll have to inform Social Services, report what happened. Odds are, the boy won't be able to stay with her from now on. Does he have any other family, someone who might be willing to take him in?”
“Not as far as I know.” Doris glanced over her shoulder, toward the workshop behind the house. “I—I could take him for a while ... until you can find him a home.”
The officer jotted another note. “As much as I wish I could let you, that isn't possible ... at least not right now. There are certain procedures we have to follow. I hope you understand. If you're interested, you can go down and file an application.” He glanced toward the door. "Where is the boy now?"
"He's probably at work," Syl answered. "He works part-time for Joe Dixon, down at Murdock's Auto Repair."
The policeman nodded. "We'll pick him up and tell him what's happened. They'll keep him at the county facility until they can check things out."
Syl felt a wave of pity. Dear God, poor little Teddy. He had no father. He had lost his mother. Now he was losing his grandmother, the only family he had left. It was too much for one little boy.
"Like I said, you can go down and talk to them if you're serious about taking him but the placement would have to be permanent. That's the way it works."
Doris made no reply. Syl had a feeling she wasn't up to taking on that kind of responsibility. Neither of the Culvers was prepared to raise a child Teddy's age. It wouldn't be fair to the Culvers or to Teddy.
Doris's head jerked up from her musings. "Oh my gosh, wait a minute! About six months ago, Lottie gave me a letter. She said I should open it if something happened to her. I think maybe she meant this kind of thing. I'll go get it." Doris dashed back inside the house.
The screen door slammed behind her as a bright red Mustang splashed through the mud puddles at the curb and braked to a stop behind the patrol car next door. Joe Dixon sat behind the wheel, Teddy in the passenger seat. Joe turned off the engine and both of them climbed out. Even from a distance, Syl could see Joe staring at the patrol car and frowning. She forced herself to call out to him from the porch.
“Joe, could you and Teddy come over here for a minute?”
Joe urged Teddy toward Doris's house, and they started up the wooden steps. Joe cast Syl an unreadable glance, then turned his attention to the patrolman.
“What's going on here, Officer?”
The young cop recapped the events of the day, filling Joe in, then turning to Teddy, careful to make sure the boy understood what was happening with his grandmother, that her memory was failing and what that meant to him.
“I'm sorry, son. You won't be able to stay with your grandma.” He smiled, trying to soften the blow. “At least not right now.”
Fear flashed in Teddy's eyes. “I know she forgets things sometimes but I can take care of her. If I'd been with her today, she would'n'a got lost.”
The policeman looked up at Joe. “I take it he works for you.”
“I'm his friend, Joe Dixon. Teddy does odd jobs for me over at Murdock's Auto. Nothing official, he's just earning some money for Christmas. I'm not breaking any child labor laws or anything.”
“That's not a problem.”
“Teddy usually rides his bicycle to and from the garage but it was raining pretty hard, so I drove him home.”
“It's clear you're concerned but there's not much you can do to help Teddy today. There are laws, rules to be followed. They're put in place for the benefit and safety of the child. I'm afraid Teddy will have to come with me.”
“What will happen to him?” Joe asked.
“We'll try to find a family member who'll take him. If not, Social Services will have to find a placement for him.”
“I want to stay with my gramma,” Teddy said, panic in his face.
The policeman crouched beside him. “You can't stay here, son. Your grandma just can't handle it anymore.”
Syl could see the tension in Joe's broad shoulders. “I don't suppose you would let him stay with me."
The officer shook his head. “Mrs. Culver offered, as well. If we just turned him over to someone without any sort of investigation, we could be guilty of child endangerment.”
Teddy reached up and took hold of Joe's hand. “Joe, I'm scared.”
Joe lowered himself to Teddy's level and looked into his eyes. “We'll work this out, son, I promise. I'll do whatever it takes to find a good place for you to live, a place where you'll be happy.”
“Why can't I stay with you?”
“I wish you could, Teddy. Maybe we can find a way....”
But Syl could tell by the tight constriction of his throat that Joe didn't believe it was possible. Not with his criminal record.
“Time to go, son,” the officer said, reaching a hand out to Teddy.
When Teddy didn't take it, Joe scooped him up in his arms and carried him off down the steps toward the patrol car. The second officer was waiting. He opened the rear door and Joe settled the boy in the backseat. Syl couldn't hear what Joe was saying, but she could tell that Teddy was crying.
The young blond policeman was about to leave the porch when Doris came barreling out the screen door.
“Here's the letter," Doris said, tearing open the envelope as she reached them, beginning to scan the words.
“What's it say?" Syl asked.
Doris took a breath and started to read.
Dear Doris,
If you are reading this, something must have happened. I knew it would, sooner or later. I just pray that by now my Teddy has a loving home. If he doesn't, I beg you as a friend who has become very dear to me that you will help him find one. I want you to know that my Chester left me in very solid financial shape, so there are funds enough for whatever needs to be done to take care of me and also money for Teddy's college education.
Doris stopped reading. Digging a Kleenex out of the pocket of her jeans, she wiped the tears from her cheek and handed the letter to Syl with a shaking hand. “You finish it,” she said, her voice thick with emotion.
Syl swallowed past the lump in her throat.
Tell Teddy how much I love him. Tell him he is the light of my life and always will be. Tell him to remember me, but please don't burden him with my illness. Thank you for being such a dear, dear friend. Lottie.
Syl looked up, her own eyes moist with tears. “The name of her bank and the account numbers are written at the bottom of the page. I think she meant for you to manage the money. I imagine she must have made some sort of arrangement with the bank.”
Doris took the letter and reread the words. “We'll get her in-home care,” she said, “someone who'll be good to her. It sounds like she'll be able to afford it.”
“That's a good idea. I'm sure she'd rather stay in her own home.”
The officer spoke up just then. Syl had almost forgotten he was there.
“We've got your name and address, Mrs. Culver. Give me your phone number and I'll keep you posted on the boy.”
Doris did as he asked and then the policeman was gone.
The last thing Syl saw was little Teddy's face pressed again the window of the patrol car as he wav
ed good-bye to Joe.
It was not a good week for anyone. Teddy was staying at the county facility for orphans and children who were victims of abuse. Doris had hired a woman named Phyllis Williams to live at the Sparks's house and take care of Lottie but Lottie wasn't dealing with her new companion well.
“I don't need anyone to take care of me,” she grumbled on a daily basis. “I can take care of myself!”
Doris spent hours talking to her, reminding her about the Alzheimer's and what was happening to her, repeating the same information again and again.
By the end of that first week, something must have clicked, at least for a while, because the complaining had mostly stopped. Lottie had asked about Teddy at least a thousand times and been told he was doing just fine. No one had the courage to tell her he was living in a county facility, soon to be placed in a foster home, even though Lottie wouldn't have remembered.
According to Doris, Joe had gone down to see Teddy every day since the boy had been taken from Lottie's home. He had filed an application to become Teddy's foster parent but with his criminal record, he held little hope. Syl was surprised when she spotted Joe's Mustang pulling up in front of the house. Her nerves kicked in even more, when a few minutes later, she heard him climb the stairs and knock at her door.
With a steadying breath, she walked over and pulled it open. “Hello, Joe.”
“Hi...” He stepped into the living room, though she hadn't thought to invite him in.
“I…uh…know I should have called but every time I thought about it, I lost my nerve.”
“That's all right. I just got home from church. I didn't have anything planned.”
“Presbyterian, right? I saw you there with Doris.”
“You were there this morning? You go to church?”
He shrugged those wide, quarterback shoulders. “I started after I got out of prison. I don't go all the time. I sort of deal with God in my own way, but still... it's nice once in a while. Lately, I figured I could use the help.”
“With Teddy, you mean.”
