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

by Kat Martin

“That’s rough.”

  “I guess so. Mom said her dad was so mean she wished he would have run off and left her.”

  Ham looked back toward his house. “My dad’s cool. He’s a sheriff.”

  “A sheriff? You mean like a policeman?”

  He nodded. “You’ll have to come over and meet him sometime. How long are you staying?”

  “I don’t know. A week or two. My mom and my grandma don’t get along very well.” She couldn’t figure out why she was telling him all this stuff. Ham just . . . well, he was being so nice to her. And it felt good to talk to a boy again. Most of them felt funny around her now.

  He reached down and ruffled his dog's curly black and tan coat. “Listen, I gotta go. Tomorrow’s Saturday. You want to come over and play some Ping Pong? We got a table set up on the sun porch. My dad’ll be home unless he gets a call and has to leave.”

  “Sure, that sounds like fun.”

  “How about late morning? I’ve got some chores to do first, then we can play.”

  “Okay.”

  He tugged playfully on his dog’s bent ear. “Come on, Ruf, let’s go.” Boy and dog headed for the fence. Ham went over first and Rufus made a leap behind him. Ham’s hand went up above the fence in a final wave and then he ran for the back door of the house.

  As Katie watched him disappear, a lump formed in her throat. She felt like crying, though she didn't quite know why. She had made a new friend, and lately, it hadn't been that easy.

  Thinking of Ham, she brightened. Turning, she raced off to tell her grandmother the exciting news.

  3

  Reed Bennett checked his appearance in the mirror. His dark hair was combed, his beige uniform nicely tailored and neatly pressed. He rubbed a thumb across his jaw, satisfied with his morning shave. His fly was zipped, so he was ready to go.

  He almost smiled. His son had made a new friend and invited her over to play Ping Pong later this morning. When Ham had told him the girl was recovering from cancer, Reed’s heart went out to both Katie and her family. He was proud of his son for taking such a bold step and he wanted to reassure the girl’s mother and Mrs. Maddox that Katie was welcome and that he would watch out for her while she was in his home.

  He was ready to go next door but it was early yet and he had an errand to run.

  “I’ll be back in an hour,” he called to Ham, who was busy cleaning his room. “I need to stop by the office. Just remember, Mrs. Maddox is right next door if something happens.”

  Winnie Maddox was a wonderful neighbor. She had volunteered to keep an eye on Ham, who, having just turned twelve, was finally old enough to stay home alone. She was always bringing over cakes and cookies and leftover bones for Rufus.

  Reed continued out the door, climbed into his sheriff’s car, and started the engine. It was Dreyerville County policy for deputies to take their cars home with them after they got off duty. Having a patrol car parked in the neighborhood had proven to be a great deterrent to crime.

  Reed pulled away from the house and drove toward his destination. Technically, he was off on weekends but he had a couple of things to check on at the office and he preferred to go in uniform in case something came up.

  He pulled into Kings Supermarket, picked up a gallon of milk and some raspberry strudel, then got back in his car and headed across town.

  On Main Street, he waved at a skinny kid named Freddie, a friend of Hams, and made the slow-down sign to a teenager named Joey Ekstrom who was driving over the speed limit—not for the first time. Turning onto Alder, he pulled up in front of a yellow ranch-style home with a slightly tilted mailbox in front.

  Reed made a mental note to fix it. The yard needed some care as well and he reminded himself to stop by after work one day next week and get it done.

  Climbing out of the car, he carried the groceries up to the door and knocked. Emily Carter, a petite young woman with short dark hair and a turned-up nose, smiled at him and opened the door a little wider.

  “Reed! Come on in. I was just pouring myself a cup of coffee. How about I pour you one, too?”

  “Sure.” He walked inside and Emily closed the door. Aside from a few stuffed animals sitting neatly in an overstuffed chair and a plastic tricycle parked against the wall, the house was spotlessly clean—almost too clean.

  “Timmy isn't up yet,” Emily said. “Let me get you that coffee.”

  “Sounds good.” He handed her the milk and raspberry strudel. “I brought you these. I figured you could use them.”

  She carried the bag to the kitchen counter, looked inside. “Great. Thanks.”

  Emily wasn't surprised to see him, he knew. Reed had been stopping by the house on a regular basis for the last six months. He'd been doing so ever since Deputy Randall Carter had died in the line of duty six months ago while making a routine traffic stop. When a drunk driver had swerved into his patrol car, Randy had been killed instantly, leaving behind his wife and three-year-old son.

  Reed knew what it felt like to lose a loved one. He still missed Carol every day. He knew how lonely Emily must be, how hard it was for her to get through each day, so he and some of the other guys in the department made it a point to stop by as often as they could. They helped with the household chores Randy used to do and anything else Emily might need.

  She poured coffee into a couple of mugs, cut each of them a slice of strudel, and carried them over to the small oak table in the kitchen. The counter was as clean and tidy as the rest of the house. Reed was sure she must be working long hours at home to keep her mind off Randy.

  They talked about the weather, about Timmy's recovery from a recent cold. They had known each other since high school, since before Reed had left for college to get his degree in police science. Before he'd become the county sheriff. Before Emily had married Randy.

  It seemed as if they had always been friends. But it was Carol whom Reed had fallen in love with. Though the pain of her death was beginning to lessen, the agony of grief beginning to soften and fade, he would never be able to forget her or the life they had shared.

  Reed took a last drink of coffee, got up, and carried his empty plate and mug over to the sink.

  “I’m afraid I have to go, Em. I've got to stop by the office and Ham's got a friend coming over. I need to get my work done and head back home.”

  “I'm sure you have lots to do.” She looked disappointed but she always did when he left. He imagined she liked having someone other than her little boy to talk to, to help keep her mind off Randy. Until her husband's death, she had worked as a clerk at Suzy's, a little Main Street boutique that sold women's clothes. She hadn't gone back to work and now just lived on Randy's modest pension.

  “Thanks for the milk,” she said as she walked him to the door. “You always seem to know what we need.”

  He smiled. “When does a mother raising a little boy not need a gallon of milk?”

  She laughed. “You're right. Tell Ham hello for me.”

  “I will.” He was reaching for the door knob when he heard the muffled sound of running feet and looked up to see Timmy racing toward him in a pair of footed pajamas with miniature owls on them.

  “Uncle Weed!” the little boy shouted, his tiny elbows pumping as he ran for all he was worth. Reed went down on one knee, caught the boy in his arms, and lifted him high into the air.

  Timmy giggled and laughed and Reed set the child back on his feet.

  “What'd you bring me, Uncle Weed?”

  “I brought you some raspberry strudel. I had a piece myself and it was really good.”

  “I love it.” He turned to his mother. “I’m hungry, Mama. Can I have some?”

  Emily smiled. “I think we can manage that.” She lifted him up, propped him against her shoulder. “Your Uncle Reed has to leave. Tell him goodbye.”

  “Bye, Uncle Weed.”

  Reed chuckled, reached over, and ruffled the boy’s light brown hair. “Bye, Timmy. Take care of yourself, Em.” She smiled as she carried her s
on into the kitchen. Reed let himself out, closed the door behind him, made sure it was locked, and returned to his car.

  From Emily's, he drove straight to the Dreyerville County Sheriff's Office a few miles outside town. Eager to get his work done and be on his way back home, he parked the car and went inside.

  “Hey, Sheriff, you forget it's Saturday?” It was Millie Caswell, the indispensable woman who ran the office. In her mid-forties, with medium-brown hair beginning to gray, Millie was happily married and the mother-hen type who looked out for every deputy in the department.

  “I've just got a couple of things to check,” he said, “then I'm out of here.”

  “You'd better be. You know how Ham looks forward to your weekends together.”

  “Ham’s got a Ping Pong date this morning. I've got to get back and play chaperone.” Which reminded him that as soon as he got there, he needed to go over and speak to Winnie’s daughter. Her name was Marly, he knew, and he wondered what she would be like.

  Winnie talked about her often but always in the past tense as if she were dead: Marly was really good at tennis. Marly got straight As when she was in school. Marly always wanted a puppy.

  He knew that the pair had had a serious falling out. Marly had run off and married one of the locals and Winnie hadn't seen her since. He wasn't sure about her marital status now but surely it was past time for the rift between mother and daughter to be healed.

  Reed hoped so. He knew it would make Winnie happy.

  He made a few phone calls, checked on the status of a burglary that had taken place in a house out on the lake, and said good-bye to Millie.

  Sliding behind the wheel of his patrol car, he fired up the big V-8 engine, and headed for home, thinking of his son and the little girl from next door, curious about the woman who had fled Dreyerville some twelve years ago.

  4

  Marly watched the sheriff’s car pull into the driveway of the house next door, which sat on a much larger lot than her mother’s small home. She remembered that the Cassidy family used to live there and wondered if they still did. Her gaze went back out the window. She had noticed the car as it was leaving and she hoped nothing was wrong.

  “What is it?” her mother asked, walking up to peer over her shoulder.

  “What’s the sheriff doing at the Cassidy house?”

  Winnie waved her hand. “Oh, that’s nothing to worry about. Sheriff Bennett lives there now. His wife died a few years back. It’s just him and his boy, Hamilton. Ham, they call him. Ham invited Katie over to play Ping Pong this morning. She was really excited about it. She wanted to tell you but you were still at the library when she went to bed.”

  She had stayed out late on purpose. She had promised to give Winnie time with Katie. And being out of the house kept her own demons at bay.

  Just then Katie wandered out of the bedroom into the kitchen. She had showered and dressed for the day in jeans and a pink T-shirt with a glittery flower on the front. She perked up when she saw Marly.

  “Hey, Mom, guess what? Yesterday, I met this really neat boy. His name’s Ham and he lives next door and he invited me over to play Ping Pong. Can I go, Mom? Please?”

  Marly hadn’t seen that glow on her daughter’s face in weeks. She looked back out the window, saw a tall, dark-haired man in a beige uniform get out of the white, brown-striped sheriff’s car. Instead of going into his own home, he turned and crossed the lawn, walking toward Winnie’s porch.

  “The sheriff...” Marly said. “He’s coming over here.”

  “Good,” Winnie said. “You’ll get to meet him.”

  Katie dashed to the window. “He must be Ham’s dad. He looks just like Ham, only a whole lot bigger.”

  Winnie hustled from the kitchen into the living room and opened the door at the first light knock.

  “Come on in, Sheriff,” Winnie said. “We were just talking about you. We saw you drive up.” She turned. “This is my daughter, Marly Hanson. And this is my granddaughter, Katie.”

  Marly managed to smile. “It’s nice to meet you, Sheriff Bennett.”

  His return smile was wide and warm. “Since we’re neighbors, I’d rather you just called me Reed.” His gaze flicked to Katie in her pink T-shirt, pink knit cap, and jeans. “It’s nice to meet you, both.”

  The sheriff was a handsome man, Marly noticed, with his dark hair, strong jaw, and clear brown eyes. Not that it mattered all that much. She had learned a long time ago that it was what was inside a man that counted.

  “Katie says Ham invited her over to play Ping Pong,” Winnie said to Reed. “He mention that to you?”

  “As a matter of fact, that’s the reason I’m here. I wanted to make sure you knew it was okay with me and that I would be there to chaperone. If I get a call and have to leave, I’ll send her home.”

  “Is it all right, Mom?” Katie pleaded. “Please say yes.”

  Marly’s smile was more sincere. “Why not? What better chaperone than a sheriff?”

  “Yippee!” Katie whirled around, one hand holding her hat in place so it wouldn’t fly off and reveal her bald head. Marly’s heart squeezed.

  “Can I go over now?” Katie asked.

  “You can go whenever the sheriff says.”

  “Give me a minute and I’ll walk you over myself,” he said.

  Katie beamed, turned and raced out onto the porch.

  “It was nice of your son to invite her,” Marly said to Reed. “She’s had a very tough year.”

  “Ham told me about the cancer. It couldn’t have been easy on either of you.”

  Something softened inside her. That he might understand the agony she had been through, the heartbreaking worry, made her take a second look at him. Maybe there was more to Reed Bennett than just a pretty face. “No, it wasn’t.”

  He nodded, started for the door, hesitated a moment, and turned back. “Maybe the three of you would like to come over for a barbeque one night. And your husband, of course, if he’s here.”

  “I don’t have a husband. Haven’t for a very long time.”

  He smiled. He had a dynamite smile. “The three of you, then. I make great barbecued chicken.”

  “I could bake us a cake,” Winnie added, excitement in her voice.

  Marly looked at her mother’s expectant face and wanted to say no. She would be leaving by the end of next week at the latest—the sooner the better, as far as she was concerned. She was only there for Katie. She didn’t want to spend more time with her mother than she absolutely had to. She didn’t want all the bad memories crawling up from inside her.

  Katie ran back through the open front door. “Can we, Mom?” Obviously, she had been listening. “We never get to do anything like that.”

  Katie was looking at her with those pleading blue eyes. Winnie was looking at her with hope. How could she not say yes?

  She turned to Reed. “All right. What night?”

  “How about tomorrow?”

  “That’s Sunday. Okay, that should be fine.”

  “So we’ll see you at church,” Winnie said brightly. “Then later, we’ll come over for supper.”

  “Sounds good,” Reed said.

  But Marly was thinking that she hadn’t been to church since she had left Dreyerville. Surely her mother didn’t expect her to go.

  “We’ll see you tomorrow,” Reed said casting Marly a glance that was a little more male than she had expected. He waited for Katie to scamper back out onto the porch and then he quietly closed the door behind them.

  Marly sank down in one of the chrome kitchen chairs. Just working up the courage to come back had been unbelievably stressful. Now she was going with her mother and daughter to a barbecue at the neighbors’ house.

  “He liked you,” Winnie said, smiling. “I could tell.”

  “He was just being polite. He’s a sheriff. He’s supposed to be polite.”

  Winnie opened one of the cupboards and took down a mixing bowl. “I think I’ll get started on that cake. It’ll
hold till tomorrow. You want to help? You used to love helping me bake.”

  Marly’s temper sparked. She shot up from the chair, her patience at an end. “I was a kid, Mother. I stopped helping you bake when Dad came home drunk and beat the crap out of you.”

  Winnie’s face fell.

  “I’m going to the library. I’ll see you later.”

  Her mother said nothing, just watched as Marly disappeared out the door.

  Timmy yawned. The early afternoon sun poured through the windows, warming the living room and making the little boy’s eyes begin to droop. He sat on the floor with a crayon in his hand and his coloring book open, trying to figure out what shade of blue to make a tree.

  “Mama, will you color with me?”

  Emily reached down and picked him up, propped him on her hip. She had been doing housework all morning, and he seemed to weigh more than he usually did.

  “Tell you what, sport. After you have your nap, we’ll color. How about that?”

  For once he didn’t argue. His small body sagged sleepily against her, and she kissed the top of his head.

  “Okay...,” he said, his head drooping against her shoulder. He’d been playing with his Hot Wheels all morning, toys one of the deputies had gotten at McDonald’s and brought over for him. He had more energy than the average three-year-old but when he ran out of steam, he collapsed like a pin-pricked balloon.

  She carried him into his bedroom and put him down for his nap, waited for a moment to be sure he was asleep, then quietly closed the door, leaving it open a crack.

  She had a little time, enough to get a few more chores done. Carrying in the rickety old wooden ladder she had found in the garage, she set it up in the kitchen, grabbed a wet rag, and climbed the rungs.

  The ladder wiggled a little, reminding her to be careful but not worrying her enough to stop. She needed to reach the shelf above the kitchen counter. She needed to dust it again.

  Emily moved the silk plants and baskets that decorated the shelf, wiped off whatever dust might have accumulated in less than a week, took the rag and began to scrub a spot she had missed when she had dusted last week. She had already mopped and vacuumed and washed the living room windows, which were spotted from the light rain that had fallen a few days ago. She would do the rest tomorrow.