Patchwork Connections

by Carol Dean Jones

  “Did they say why?” Sarah asked reaching out to him.

  He pulled back, and running his fingers through his hair, responded, “They said something about fetal distress. If anything goes wrong …” he began, but stopped and covered his face with both hands.

  “Come sit down with me,” Sarah said. “Charles, could you go down to the cafeteria and get us all a cup of coffee?”

  “I’ll go with you,” Martha offered. She had remained in the background but ran her hand across her brother’s shoulder as she passed behind him on her way to the door.

  Once they were alone, Jason sat next to his mother and appeared to be holding back tears. Sarah took a tissue from her purse and laid it in his hand. His hair stood straight up on the top of his head, and Sarah smiled to herself remembering how he looked as a child struggling with his homework while running his fingers through his hair until it all stood straight up. “Tell me what the doctor said,” she asked gently.

  “It’s the baby’s heartbeat. The doctor said it was too slow.”

  “I don’t think that’s so unusual, Jason. And they took her right in for a C-section. They will both be fine, I’m sure.” She wasn’t as sure as she sounded, but Jason was clearly on the edge. He had lost his first son at the age of eleven and his first marriage ended as a result. Sarah knew Jason was reliving the loss of Arthur while worrying about Jennifer and their baby.

  About that time, the doctor came into the room. “Mr. Miller?”

  “Yes! Doctor, how is she?” Jason hurried across the room. “And the baby …?”

  “They are both fine. You have a beautiful little girl, perfect in every way.”

  “Her heart?”

  “Her heart is fine. She was distressed by the long labor, but she’s recovered completely and is waiting to meet her new parents. Come on back.”

  “Mom?” Jason said looking back at this mother.

  “I’ll wait here. This is your time. Come get me when you’re ready.” Sarah had tears in her eyes, tears of relief and tears of joy. And tears for little Arthur who had been in the world for such a short time. Charles and Martha rushed to her side when they returned and saw her wiping her eyes.

  “What happened?” Charles asked apprehensively.

  “Nothing! They’re both fine,” she responded, laughing through her tears.

  I’ll never understand the emotional life of woman, Charles thought shaking his head as he took her in his arms.

  He reached over and pulled Martha into their hug, and she laid her head on his shoulder. “I’m glad you’re here,” she said softly.

  He patted the back of her head. “Me, too.”

  The group finally settled down and, drinking their coffee, speculated on what the couple might name their new little girl. Sarah and Martha ran through some of the family names, but they rejected most of them as being too old-fashioned. They didn’t know any of Jennifer’s family names. “If I’d had a girl, I would have named her Clementine,” Charles said.

  “She would never have forgiven you!” Martha responded with a snicker.

  Sarah watched their playful exchange and was glad to see Martha warming up to her friends and the family. She wondered if anything would come of the budding friendship between Martha and Timothy. She liked Tim and could tell that Martha did too.

  About that time, Jason stepped into the room and motioned for everyone to follow him. “Come meet my daughter,” he said proudly. They followed him to the nursery where they spotted the little pink baby with her face scrunched up looking as if she couldn’t decide whether or not to cry. Above her head was the hand printed sign, “Baby Girl Miller.”

  “I would like for you three to meet my daughter, Alaina Miller.”

  “Alaina?” Sarah said with pleased surprise. “What a pretty name!”

  “It means precious, and that’s just what she is, our precious little girl.”

  Later that night, they were able to see Jennifer for a short time. She was holding the baby in her arms, and Jason was standing close by in case she fell asleep again. She’d been having trouble shaking the effects of the anesthesia.

  “I think we should go and let this new family spend some time alone,” Sarah said. Martha and Charles immediately stood and began gathering their coats. Martha looked tired, Sarah noted.

  Exhausted, the three headed for their cars. “Do you gals want to go somewhere for dinner?” Sarah and Martha agreed they were both too tired to eat. Martha got in her car and headed home while Sarah and Charles drove leisurely toward Cunningham Village. “It was a good day,” Charles said reaching for Sarah’s hand.

  “You bet it was!” Sarah responded smiling. “A very good day.” As they approached the house, a light snow began to fall.

  Chapter 14

  “Hi, Rhonda. I was surprised to see your name pop up on my caller ID. How are you?”

  “I’m doing great, Martha. We miss you on the east coast, but it looks like you’re doing a fantastic job with the Midwest office. We had a meeting last week with the Board, and they were duly impressed!” Martha smiled, knowing she had been very successful with her project.

  “One little piece of off-the-radar news. I’m dating Malcolm,” Rhonda announced.

  “Malcolm Knight? I thought he was caught in Allison’s web,” Martha responded disdainfully.

  “Well, that’s another story. The reason I’m calling is to give you a message. You had a phone call from a lawyer out in Montana. He said it was personal.”

  “Hmm. That was probably Jackson Burns. Did he leave a message?”

  “Just for you to call. He said it was urgent, though. That’s why I’m calling. Do you have his number?” Martha and Rhonda continued to chat, but Martha was becoming tense wondering why Jackson was calling. “I’d better call him now, Rhonda. Give my regards to the folks back there. I miss them.”

  “Enough to come back?” Rhonda asked, already knowing the answer.

  “Absolutely not!” she responded confidently. “I’m where I need to be.”

  Martha immediately dialed Jackson’s number.

  “Martha! Glad my message got to you so quickly. How are you doing?”

  “Fine. What’s going on, Jackson?” she asked impatiently.

  Speaking in a more serious vein, Jackson responded, “I got word yesterday that Greyson was released last month.”

  “What? He was supposed to be in prison for another few years, wasn’t he?”

  “It’s been nearly twenty years, Martha. He was paroled the first time he came up for a hearing. The guy that called me said he’s been a model prisoner.”

  “That’s hard to believe. But what does this have to do with me? We’ve been divorced for years.”

  “I just wanted you to know, that’s all. He made threats back then, and I thought you should know he’s on the street.”

  “Thank you, Jackson. I appreciate the gesture, but he won’t be looking for me, not after all this time.”

  “Okay. Gotta run now, court in ten minutes. Good luck,” and he hung up. Martha stood holding the receiver and feeling contempt for the man who had caused her years of unhappiness. Surely he has moved on with his life, she told herself apprehensively. The black car crossed her mind, but she immediately dismissed it. He has no idea where I live, she reassured herself.

  The phone rang again and she was hesitant to answer it. She decided to let it go to the machine but suddenly noticed the caller’s name: Ward, Sophie. Why would Sophie be calling me? she wondered. Concerned that something might be wrong with her mother, she picked up.

  “Well, hello there, lovely lady. I was beginning to think you weren’t home.”

  “Hi, Tim!” She was relieved to hear his voice. They chatted for a while about the party and what he’d been doing since his arrival. He seemed to be dancing around something, and she decided to help him along. “So Tim. What’s up?”

  “I was wondering if you might like to go out to dinner Friday night?”

  “I would en
joy that, Tim. Do you want me to meet you somewhere, or will you pick me up?” She was hoping he would be bringing her home since she was becoming wary of arriving home alone late at night.

  “I’ll pick you up if that’s okay.”

  “That’s perfect,” she responded. She gave him her address and directions to her house, and they decided on an Italian restaurant on the outskirts of Middletown.

  “Looking forward to it,” he said as they hung up.

  * * * * *

  They were enjoying a leisurely meal and a bottle of wine. Martha was relaxed for the first time since the phone call with the attorney in Montana. “Tell me about Alaska. It sounds fascinating.”

  “Fascinating? Yes. And cold! And dark night and day for a few months up along the North Slope. But also it’s lush and green in the summertime with pristine wilderness and free-roaming wildlife: bear, caribou, moose, mountain goats. You name it, we got it,” he added with a chuckle as he refilled their wine glasses.

  “How did you happen to go there?” Martha asked intrigued by what would motivate a young boy to make such an adventurous move.

  “I guess it was mostly my science teacher. She was somewhat of a conservationist and she talked to us about the controversy over building the pipeline. Every day she read to us from the newspaper about the fights in congress and the environmental protestors who were trying to stop the pipeline. We were all intrigued by it. I had just graduated high school when the government gave their final approval in 1973. The oil companies were calling for workers and people were streaming to Alaska. My buddy Joe and I headed up there in his old jalopy. Once we got there, we found out they were only hiring locals and skilled workers, but we offered to work cheap and they agreed to give us a try.”

  “You were so young.”

  “Yeah? But I didn’t feel young back then. We caught the train up to Fairbanks and from there they put us to work as laborers, building a gravel supply road the 360 miles on up to Prudhoe Bay where the pipeline started. Over the next few years, Joe and I worked in different camps along the line. I made friends with this one engineer, Randy. Randy Olson. Anyway, ol’ Randy took me on and taught me the trade. He gave me my on-the-job engineering degree,” he added with a chuckle. “By the time the pipeline was finished, I had worked at twenty-three of the twenty-nine pipeline camps at one time or another. Now I do maintenance, you know, looking for faults and directing the guys who do repairs. It was an exciting job in the 70s, but now it’s pretty routine.”

  “I saw a picture of the pipeline the other day online. I was surprised to see it was built aboveground.”

  “Only about half of it. In some places, the earth is frozen and, if the pipe had been buried like they usually do, the hot oil would melt the ice and the line would be unstable.” Tim started to tell her about the terrain but first asked, “Am I boring you?”

  “Absolutely not! I’m fascinated by it.”

  “Well, I just wanted to add that the 800 miles of pipeline goes over rivers and streams and across three mountain ranges. It’s a monumental achievement, and it was completed in just three years once it was finally approved. And the pay was great!” he added laughing. “Really great back in the 70s. Those oil guys were determined to get it done fast.”

  Timothy signaled for the waiter and turned to Martha. “Would you like dessert or coffee?”

  “I’d love both, thank you.”

  “Okay, so that’s all I’m going to say about me tonight and I really hope I haven’t talked your ear off. Tell me about you.”

  Martha told him as much as she could about her job and then turned to her time in California. She didn’t mention Montana or Greyson. She realized her story must sound very tame to this man who lived on what must feel like the edge of the world.

  They finished their coffee and dessert and agreed it was time to head home. On the way, Timothy took a sudden turn off the main highway. “Why are you turning here?” Martha asked. “My turn is another mile up the road.”

  “I know. I’m being crazy, but that car has been on my tail since we left the restaurant. I just wanted to see what would happen if I turned off.” As they made the turn, Martha saw the black car whiz past them.

  “See?” he said. “I knew I was being crazy. They kept right on going, paying us no attention at all. I’m usually not this paranoid,” he said apologetically as he reached over and patted her hand. “I had fun tonight,” he added.

  “So did I,” she responded, trying to sound relaxed and unconcerned about the black car.

  As they approached her house, she scoured the neighborhood, but there was no sign of the car. He walked her to her door and, again, gave her a quick kiss on the cheek as he turned to leave. She slipped into the house and locked the door. She heard him start his car and drive away. She heard another car pull up to the curb and stop. She heard the door open and slam closed. She heard footsteps.

  Martha trembled as she leaned against the door waiting for the sound of the doorbell, but there was silence. She hadn’t turned the lights on, so she crept through the darkness up the stairs and across her bedroom to the front window. She pulled the curtain aside only to see a car with a flashing neon sign on the roof that read Pizza Guy. A young boy was running toward the car from her neighbor’s house carrying his empty pizza tote. Seconds later, he drove away.

  “What’s wrong with me?” she admonished herself aloud, knowing that the news about Greyson had her on edge.

  Chapter 15

  “Where’s lover boy today?” Sophie asked trying to look innocent as she took her coat off and tossed it over Sarah’s couch. “That was some pretty passionate kissing I saw on your front porch last night.”

  “Don’t start,” Sarah responded.

  “But …”

  “No. We aren’t going to talk about it. Do you want coffee?”

  “Sure, but …”

  “Sophie!”

  “Okay. I can mind my own business.”

  “That’ll be the day,” Sarah muttered as she turned the corner into the kitchen. Sophie followed her, and Barney opened his eyes suddenly when he realized that another member of his pack had arrived. They greeted each other, and Sophie headed for his treat container.

  “Just one,” Sarah announced in a gruff tone.

  “Love doesn’t become you,” Sophie proclaimed. “It seems to be making you very grumpy!”

  “Humph,” Sarah responded with a slight smile.

  “That’s my line!” Sophie retorted.

  Sarah didn’t want to admit to herself that she and Charles had arrived at a new point in their relationship, so she sure didn’t want to admit it to Sophie. She had lots of thinking to do. Charles wanted to get married. How could she possibly deal with this turn of events? She had no idea what to say to him, and she knew he was waiting for a response. With the excitement of the new baby, she had managed to avoid the topic, but she knew that wasn’t fair to him. It’s cowardly, she told herself. And yet, she didn’t know what to say to him.

  The two women sat down for coffee. Sophie honored Sarah’s request that they not talk about Charles. Sophie asked about the baby and said she would like to go with Sarah to see her as soon as Jennifer felt like having company.

  “We’ll go next week.” They talked about Jennifer and the baby and about the shop. They talked about Barney, the sale at Mulligan’s Department store, and when Ruth would be back home. Then they sat silently.

  “Okay, Sophie. I know what you want to know, so I’ll tell you, but this isn’t for publication. Charles asked me to marry him.”

  “What?” Sophie responded jumping up out of her chair with surprise.

  “What did you say?”

  “I didn’t say anything.”

  “Nothing?”

  “Well, I said something and I don’t know just what. But I didn’t say yes or no. I just said I would have to think about it.”

  “How romantic,” Sophie said sarcastically as she flopped back into the chair.

 
; “Look, Sophie. I don’t expect you to understand this, but I’m not sure I’m ready for marriage.”

  “Oh, I can understand that. You’ve only been alone for twenty-some years … it takes time,” again responding with her sarcastic tone.

  “I don’t see you getting married,” Sarah retorted.

  “I’ve only been alone for seven years. It takes time as I said. Besides that’s different.”

  “How’s that different?”

  “I don’t have a handsome man who adores me and is pleading for my hand in marriage.”

  They remained quiet for a while each buried in her own thoughts. A few minutes later, Sophie stood up and hobbled to the living room to get her coat. As she was leaving, she turned and looked at Sarah. “If you need to talk, come over. I care about you, kid.”

  “I know you do.” Sarah walked closer to Sophie but held back, knowing that Sophie was not a hugger. She winked instead and said, “Thanks.”

  * * * * *

  “Do you believe in long engagements?” Sarah asked.

  Charles had just answered the phone excited to see that it was Sarah calling. Her greeting caught him off guard though.

  “Do I believe in long engagements? Well, I guess I never thought about it,” he responded. “Why do you ask?”

  “Because if you do, I might say yes to your proposal. But only if we’re talking about off in the future.”

  “How far off?” he asked, glad she couldn’t see the smile on his face.

  “Oh … say, maybe sometime next year?”

  “Hmm. I guess I could go along with that if I had a definite yes to keep me going.”

  “Well, I don’t want to accept your proposal on the telephone so please come over right away.”

  “You bet I’ll be there right away before you have a chance to change your mind!”

  “And then can we drive over and see the baby?” Sarah asked.

  “Of course, we can. And then dinner at that Italian place out on Route 39 to celebrate?

  “Perfect!” Sarah hung up the phone with a sigh. What am I doing? She realized she was shaking. She didn’t know why she had been so reluctant to make a commitment to this dear man whom she loved and who loved her. She looked at herself in the mirror and saw that she was flushed. ”I’m going to be engaged,” she said aloud. “Seventy years old and engaged!” She laughed with joy but realized there were tears in her eyes.