Patchwork Connections

by Carol Dean Jones

  As she pulled up to the curb, a black car drove slowly past her. It was too dark to see who was driving. She thought for a moment that the driver intended to stop, but suddenly it sped away. What’s that all about? she wondered.

  Chapter 7

  “Hi, Mama. Are you free to talk?” Martha stood shivering at Sarah’s door early on Sunday morning. Her nose was red and her eyes bloodshot. She had obviously been crying. Sarah put her arms around her daughter, drawing her into the warmth of the house and quickly closing the door. It was a dark, gray morning with a breath taking chill in the air. She guided Martha into the kitchen where she poured a cup of hot coffee and added cream and sugar the way Martha liked it. Together they sat down at the table, but Martha kept her coat on. “I need it, Mama. I’m freezing.”

  Twice she called me “Mama,” Sarah thought. She hadn’t heard Martha use that word for many years. Sarah had become the more formal “mother” when Martha addressed her. Sarah sat quietly giving Martha time to organize her thoughts.

  “I promised to explain what’s been going on with me over the last twenty years and why I’ve avoided the family all that time. I know there’s no excuse for my behavior, but I want to try to explain my side and maybe you can forgive me.”

  “Martha, I love you and there’s nothing to forgive. You have the right to lead your life anyway you want. …”

  “No, Mama. This isn’t the way I want to live my life. It’s the way I mistakenly thought I had to live it. Let me try to explain.” Again, Martha sat quietly and finally spoke, very softly at first. Sarah had to move in closer to hear her.

  “You never asked anything about my marriage to Greyson, but I think you sensed there were problems. I’ve been so ashamed of bringing him into our family and our lives. I’ve kept my distance from the family, at first because that’s what he wanted. Later it was because I was embarrassed. Then it was to protect you and Jason.”

  “What do you mean?” Sarah asked, confused by what she was hearing.

  Martha’s voice was monotone as she recounted the months following their whirlwind marriage. “We headed for Montana and arrived in Billings with no place to stay. His friends were unable to help us. In fact, they were barely functioning themselves.”

  “What about his family?” Sarah asked.

  “The family he told me about was nonexistent. He lied about that. And he lied about going to graduate school. He had never even been to Seattle!”

  “For a while, we slept on the couch in a dirty one-bedroom apartment that belonged to one of his disgusting friends. There were others who came and went. It was horrible. I wanted to leave.”

  Martha lowered her head, looking embarrassed. She hoped her mother didn’t ask why she didn’t leave. She didn’t know what kept her there. Love, I guess, she thought. Misplaced, childish love. Martha was only twenty-four at the time, and in retrospect, she realized she was a naive child. Martha had graduated high school at sixteen and spent the next eight years working toward her advanced degrees. She had little exposure to the real world. She was a serious student, and by the age of twenty four, she had spent most of her life in books. I thought I was so grown-up, she told herself, but I wasn’t.

  After a while, Martha continued, still in a monotone with tears standing in her eyes. “At first, it wasn’t clear how these people were making a living, but after a few weeks it became obvious. They were all involved with drugs: taking them, selling them, and traveling into Mexico to purchase them. At first, I was confused about why Greyson was involved in this world. Why were these people his friends?” Continuing, Martha added, “I threatened to leave him, and he became very angry. Violent, actually.”

  “Did he hurt you …?” Sarah asked, drawing herself up protectively.

  “Sometimes, but he always apologized and pleaded with me to stay. He promised to get a job and find us a place to live. I agreed to have money wired from my account in California to get us established.” Lowering her head with embarrassment, she added, “I did that more than once. I did that until my account was empty.” She covered her face with her hands and shook her head as if she couldn’t believe she had made so many mistakes.

  “Finally I got a job with a research firm in Billings and things seemed to be looking up. We rented a small cottage in an older neighborhood in the suburbs. Greyson spent his days looking for work, or at least that’s what he said he was doing.”

  Martha stopped talking and looked at her mother. “Should I continue? Do you want to hear it all?”

  “I want to hear the whole story, Martha. The whole story.” Sarah stood and refilled their cups and took a few oatmeal cookies out of the cookie jar. They sipped their coffee, but the cookies lay untouched.

  Martha went on to explain that a few months later, she inadvertently discovered drugs hidden in the basement of their cottage. Continuing to search, she found large sums of money bundled and hidden in the crawl space behind the furnace. “I was shocked and, at first, I couldn’t believe it was Greyson. I wanted to believe someone had left the money and the drugs there. But I knew better. I secretly took our meager savings and hired a private detective.”

  “You did?” Sarah responded, impressed with her daughter’s ingenuity. “You were a brave young woman!”

  “He brought me evidence of activities far worse than I had imagined. Greyson was selling drugs at all three high schools and was making overtures to students in two of the four middle schools!”

  As Martha talked about the young students and about Greyson, her cheeks grew flushed with anger. She continued talking, and Sarah sat silently in shock and disbelief that her daughter could have gone through all this alone. She wondered why Martha hadn’t turned to her family, but she didn’t want to interrupt in any way. She hoped that telling the entire story would help Martha purge this nightmare from her life.

  Martha continued talking but now with more animation in her voice. She told Sarah about contacting the police and reporting everything she knew. She gave them names and her private detective’s report. “I saw an attorney who told me that I couldn’t be forced to testify against him, and I was glad. I was afraid of what he might do.”

  The police assured her they had sufficient evidence without her involvement. “It was at that point that I packed one suitcase and left town, leaving everything behind.”

  “Where did you go,” Sarah asked, wondering why she hadn’t come home.

  “I went to New York where a friend had promised to get me an interview with a research company. That’s the company I’m still with today,” she added.

  Sarah couldn’t hold her tongue another minute. “Why didn’t you come home, Martha? I don’t understand that part. You know we would have been here for you.”

  “I know, Mother. He threatened me, and he threatened you and Jason as well. He swore he would kill us all. My attorney said he was making idle threats, but he knew I turned him in and he was blind with anger. When Jason’s son was killed. …” Martha began to sob.

  “You think that wasn’t an accident?” Sarah cried. “Oh, Martha …” She placed her hand on her heart and stared at Martha in shock.

  “No, Mama. No! We don’t know that it was Greyson. It was probably an accident just like the police said. It’s just that …”

  “You wondered?” she completed Martha’s sentence.

  “Yes. I wondered if it were possible. I contacted Greyson after that, and he assured me he had nothing to do with it. He sounded contrite about the drugs and the past, but I didn’t know whether to believe him. Nevertheless, to be safe I let him know that you were all out of my life forever. I thought that would keep him away.”

  “What happened to him?” Sarah asked.

  “He was convicted and sent to prison for twenty years. We were all safe from him once he was incarcerated, but I had been so frightened I guess I just couldn’t give it up. I continued to think I had to protect us all, and so I stayed as far away from the family as possible.”

  “He was sen
tenced to twenty years?” Sarah commented. “That seems like a long time.”

  “Another one of his little secrets,” Martha responded with disgust. “This wasn’t his first conviction!”

  Sarah had another question that she had to word carefully. “Martha, you’ve been home for over two years. During that time, it seems like you have continued to be distant from the family. I don’t understand that part.”

  Martha dropped her eyes. “I was ashamed, Mama. I knew I had to explain about Greyson, and I was so ashamed. I’m sorry. You know I love you.”

  “And insisting that I move to Cunningham Village? Was that because of Greyson too?” Sarah asked, suddenly seeing the connection.

  “Yes. I wanted you to be in a protected place with security and friends. You were alone after Daddy died, and you were vulnerable.” Smiling, she added, “None of us is in danger anymore. I haven’t heard from him for years. He has forgotten all about us.

  Martha and Sarah spent the rest of the day together. Once the story was told and the tears shed, the two women decided to bundle up and take a long walk. The snow had stopped and the roads were icy. There was no traffic, and they made their way to the park adjoining Cunningham Village. The limbs were ice covered and the sun was beginning to break through the clouds causing the trees to sparkle as if they were encased in glass.

  When they got to the dog park, Sarah removed Barney’s leash and headed for a bench. Sarah was surprised to see Martha bend down and scoop up a handful of snow. She carefully formed a snowball while Barney watched with curiosity. She suddenly tossed it at Barney, aiming just behind his back paws. He jumped out of the way, looked at her with surprise and then realized it was a game. He lowered his head and began running in large circles just skimming her boots as he passed behind her. She started chasing him, Martha laughing and Barney barking his excited, playful bark. Tears rose to Sarah’s eyes seeing her daughter fighting her way back into the world of the living.

  Martha and Sarah spent the rest of the day together and walked over to the Center to meet Charles. After a very pleasant dinner, Charles walked them back to Sarah’s house, and they waved as Martha drove away. “I’ve never seen her so relaxed. She seemed happy tonight,” Charles said as they went into the house.

  Sarah smiled and responded, “She got a lot off her mind today. I think she’s on her way back.”

  They took their snow covered boots off and sat down on the couch with Barney curled up across their feet. Sarah told Charles what she had learned that afternoon. “I think it has helped her to talk about it.” Charles sat quietly letting the facts sink in. Sarah had told the story from a mother’s point of view; Charles heard it as a cop. His years in law enforcement had trained him to hear what others missed.

  “Your grandson. I remember when that happened.”

  “Do you think …?” Sarah began but was still unable to put words on her fear.

  “No, Sarah. I don’t think so. I talked to the investigators back then. It was an accident.” He knew that would reassure her. But he knew it could also have been a warning. A very cruel warning from a deranged person.

  They continued to sit quietly each deep in private thoughts. He slipped his arm around her and gently pulled her toward him. She laid her head on his chest, feeling the tension that had built up over a very emotion-filled day drain away. He wrapped his other arm around her and held her close letting his warmth and his love offer solace.

  Chapter 8

  “You wanted me to stop by?” Caitlyn said as she stood at the front door, her teeth chattering.

  “Come in quickly,” Sarah said pushing the storm door open against the strong winter wind. “I didn’t mean for you to weather this storm,” she added helping the young girl off with her wraps. “You are freezing!” she said, gently touching Caitlyn’s cheek.

  “Papa and I went out to shovel snow. We did yours and Sophie’s too.” Sarah peeked out the front window and saw what they had done. “Oh my! Thank you! I was hoping I wouldn’t have to wade through two feet of snow to get to Sophie’s house tonight.” Looking across the street, she saw that Sophie’s walkway was shoveled as well. Cunningham Village management provided snow removal but, with such a heavy snow, she knew it would be a couple of days before they got to the individual walkways. They had been working on the streets and sidewalks since it stopped snowing early that morning.

  “Would you like to warm up with a cup of hot cocoa?”

  “Yes!” Caitlyn replied joyfully as she saw Barney heading for her at top speed. She met him on the floor just as he reached her, and the two tussled playfully while Sarah hurried into the kitchen. Once they were settled at the table, Sarah explained why she wanted to talk to Caitlyn. She told her about the Friday Night Quilters and the project they were going to be working on for Ruth. “We have a young woman in the group that I think is in her early twenties. Last year we had a young man too. I guess I’m saying this because I want you to know this is not a group of little ol’ ladies.” Caitlyn giggled and Sarah continued. “I was wondering if you might like to come to one or two meetings just to see if you might like it.”

  Caitlyn’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment as a young girl’s often will. “Me?”

  “Sure. Why not you? You’ve had some lessons and even made a quilt for your dad. I think you might enjoy spending time at the shop and getting to know the quilters.” They sat quietly sipping their cocoa while Caitlyn mulled over the idea.

  “Well, I could come once and just see. Do you think they’ll mind?”

  “Mind? They’ll be delighted. Besides, Barney would love having you there.”

  “Barney?” Caitlyn exclaimed with surprise. “Barney goes?”

  “Sure. Barney goes every Friday night. He’s an honorary member.” It was clear to Sarah that Barney’s presence at the club made all the difference.

  “I’ll go,” she responded eagerly. “It sounds like fun.”

  “Okay, then I want to show you our project and see if you will help me with it. Are you free for an hour or so?”

  “Sure. Papa went on up the street to dig out a couple of older folks in the next block. Mr. Dumfries’ been sick and Papa wanted to get there before the old guy tries to do it himself.” She smiled with pride.

  “Okay then. Let’s head for the sewing room.” Sarah pulled out the strips she brought for Ruth’s quilt and the instructions for making a nine-patch. She told Caitlyn to read the directions while she got their supplies set up. Together they laid out the strips, and Caitlyn sat down at the machine. As she sewed the strips together, she passed them to Sarah for pressing. As soon as they had them sewn into groups of three, Sarah showed the young girl how to cut them and pin them together to form the nine-patches. Sarah took over at the machine and did the final stitching, while Caitlyn pressed the finished blocks. Within an hour, they had completed twenty green and black quilt blocks ready to be added to Ruth’s quilt.

  “But these are yours. Can I make some of my own for her quilt?” Caitlyn asked as they were making plans for taking the nine-patch blocks to the next meeting.

  “Sure you may,” Sarah responding feeling proud of her young protégé. “I’ll bring home another set of strips, and you can do them by yourself if you would like. What colors do you want?” While they were working, Sarah had told her about the color restrictions of the Amish community.

  “Could I use pink?” Without waiting for a response, Caitlyn added eagerly, “How about pink and yellow? Would that look okay?”

  “That would be very striking, and the yellow will add that important sparkle to the quilt! I’ll bring the strips home tomorrow, and you let me know when you can come over.”

  “I can come anytime. Maybe tomorrow after you get home?”

  “What about your homework?” Sarah asked, not wanting to interfere with her studies.

  “Snow, remember? School is closed for a few days.” Caitlyn looked ecstatic about being out of school even though she loved it and was an excellent stude
nt according to her father who was just a bit biased.

  Sarah and Barney walked Caitlyn to the door and Barney tried to slip out with her. “Barney, stay!” Sarah commanded gently.

  “Could I take him for a little walk?” Caitlyn pleaded holding on to him by his collar.

  Sarah laughed and said, “Sure. I’ll get his leash.” As the two walked away, Sarah was choked up with emotion. She had grown to love this very brave, independent young woman.

  * * * * *

  “What took you so long,” Sophie demanded as Sarah stomped the snow off her boots before stepping inside.

  “Have you looked outside?” Sarah retorted. It had started snowing again, and both walkways were covered. Sophie had invited Sarah to come have an early dinner with her and to share some news which she refused to discuss on the phone. Sophie had cheese and crackers ready, along with a chilled bottle of Chardonnay. Once they got comfortable in the living room in front of Sophie’s new electric fireplace, Sarah could wait no longer.

  “Okay, Sophie. Give. What’s this news you are teasing me with?”

  “Timothy is coming.” Sophie beamed with happiness. Sophie’s son was in his fifties and had moved to Alaska right after graduating from high school. All through high school, he had followed the progress of the Alaska pipeline and dreamed of being involved.

  At seventeen, he packed his boots and parka and drove to Anchorage. For the next thirty years, he worked along the 800-mile pipeline. He didn’t have a degree but learned engineering on the job.

  “How does he stand the cold?”

  “I guess you get used to it. He never mentions it. Anyway, he’ll be here next week, and he’s staying for two months! I can hardly wait!” Sarah had never seen Sophie so excited.

  “I’m hoping he might decide to stay,” Sophie added. “Occasionally he writes about retiring. I wish he would. He’s in his fifties, and he’s been doing hard physical work for many years.”