The Christmas Clock and A Song For My Mother - Kat Martin Page 0,10
was to become of him, and sometimes they talked about when Syl was a girl in Dreyerville.
“I remember you coming into the bakery,” Doris said as they sat at the small, round table in Sylvia’s kitchen drinking a glass of iced tea. “Your hair was lighter back then, almost blond, and you had freckles.”
“I still do,” Syl said with a laugh. “Even more than I had before.”
“Well, they look good on you. You’re even prettier than you were when you were engaged to Joe.”
A knot squeezed in Syl’s stomach.
“I never understood what happened between the two of you,” Doris continued. “You both seemed so much in love. The whole town used to talk about what a fairy-tale couple you were.”
Syl’s fingers tightened around the icy glass. “Sometimes things happen.”
“Yes, I suppose they do. Look what happened to Joe after you left.”
Syl stared into her drink, watched a cube of ice bobbing in the dark liquid. “I didn’t know he went to prison until a year or so later. Mary knew I’d be upset. She told me he got into a bar fight down at that roadhouse near the train tracks and a man got killed.”
Doris nodded. “Al’s Place. Way I heard it, some fella made a remark about you and Joe got mad. Joe had been drinking ... started drinking real hard after you left town. He and the guy got into it pretty good. Joe punched him and when the guy fell, he hit his head on the brass foot rail under the bar. Killed him right on the spot.”
Syl’s insides twisted. “I never knew the whole story. I didn’t... didn’t know Joe got into that fight because of me.” She swallowed, feeling a hollow ache in the pit of her stomach. “I knew he went to prison and that eventually he got out.”
“That’s right. Involuntary manslaughter. He was sentenced to five years. Got out in three for good behavior and came back to Dreyerville about four years ago. He’s half owner over at Murdock’s garage.”
“That’s good. I’m glad he’s doing well. I guess ... I guess he never got married. That’s what Mary said.”
“For a while, he got real serious with Diane Ellison. She’s a kindergarten teacher over at Dreyerville Elementary. Looked like they were going to get married but it didn’t work out.” She flicked Syl a glance. “Funny ... I guess it hasn’t worked out for either one of you.”
On Friday after work, Syl and Doris went grocery shopping at King’s Supermarket. As they walked down the aisle in front of the milk counter, sharing the same basket for the few items each of them needed, Syl found herself thinking of the conversation they’d had about Joe and wondering if he knew she had come back to town. Her stomach knotted at the thought of what his response would be if he did.
She pushed the cart down the aisle while Doris went off to collect a pound of butter and a loaf of bread. The store needed remodeling. The aisles were too narrow and the manager kept it far too cold to suit Syl. Still, the selection was good and the meat and vegetables always fresh.
They were just passing the mayonnaise and pickle aisle when their cart collided with one coming around the corner from the opposite direction. Syl looked up to see the man who hovered in her thoughts. He was pushing a cart, his big hands wrapped around the handle.
Joe didn’t seem to notice Doris at all, just stared straight at Syl. She could feel the blood drain from her face, which must have turned the same color as the jar of mayonnaise she held in her hand. When both of them said nothing, just kept staring at each other, Doris said something about needing a head of lettuce for Floyd's supper and quietly slipped away.
Syl stood frozen. She had known she would run into Joe sooner or later. Still, it was a shock to find him standing right in front of her, his jaw set and his thick black eyebrows pulled together in a frown. A smile that really wasn't edged the corners of his mouth.
“Afternoon, Syl. I heard you were back in town.”
She swallowed. “Hello ... Joe.”
“Kind of surprised to hear you'd come back; I didn't think you were interested in living in a smalltime, one-horse town like Dreyerville.”
Syl fought not to wince. It was exactly what she had said, word for word; one of the many lies she had told. She