The Christmas Clock and A Song For My Mother - Kat Martin Page 0,27

for the money.

“Thanks, Mr. Culver.’

“You're welcome, Teddy.”

“Yoo-hoooo! Teddy, are you out here?”

“I'm here, Mrs. Culver!” The little boy raced off to where Doris stood in the open doorway. She looked pretty today, Floyd noticed. She'd begun to wear her hair loose once in a while, clipped back on the sides like she used to when they had first met.

A funny little stirring pulled low in his belly. He almost didn't recognize it. He chuckled. He and Doris hadn't shared a bed in years.

He thought how much he'd enjoyed the tea she had brought him, how, over the years, he had missed her soft, female chatter as they worked, how it always used to make him smile.

Floyd shook his head, thinking what a pitiful old fool he was to dream of the way it used to be.

Joe had been taking Syl out a couple of nights a week since that Sunday in late October. At first, they carefully skirted any subject that had to do with the past and kept the conversation mostly in the present. Joe talked a lot about Teddy and how he was more and more determined to become the boy's foster father.

“I've hired a lawyer,” he said as they drove toward the Dreyerville High School stadium. He was taking her to the Friday night Panthers' football game, the last one of the season. “Guy named Max Green. He's doing all the paperwork. He can't guarantee anything, of course, considering my record, but he thinks it's worth a try.”

“I think hiring a lawyer's a good idea. Teddy's a wonderful little boy and the two of you are perfect for each other. If there's any way to make it happen, you should try. And if there's anything I can do to help, you know I will.”

Something moved across his features but he kept his eyes straight ahead, firmly fixed on the road. “Thanks.” He gave her a smile. “I hope you still like football.”

They were meeting Charlie Murdock, Joe's best friend, and Charlie's wife, Betty Ann, at the stadium. Syl had gone to school with Betty Ann and was looking forward to seeing her again after so many years.

“I used to be a real fan,” Syl said, “back when you were playing.” Both of them had gone to Dreyerville High, though Joe was older. He'd been the Panthers' star quarterback in his junior and senior years.

“You never knew who I was,” she said with a smile, “but I knew you. All the girls were in love with you.”

Joe's eyes cut to hers. “How about you?”

Syl laughed. “Not then. I thought you were stuck-up and conceited. I didn't get hooked on you until we were in college.” She fiddled with the hem of the red sweater she was wearing with a pair of black slacks—red and black, Panther colors. “You were amazing, Joe. I remember watching you run down the field. Nothing could stop you.”

He chuckled. “Oh yeah? Seems to me like one of those big Warthog linebackers at the homecoming game stopped me cold. I had to be carried off the field.”

Syl shivered. “I was so afraid when that happened,” she said, silently remembering how she had worried that he might have been killed. She didn't tell him this now but merely grinned at him. “Because I wasn't sure we could win the game without you.”

His chest rumbled with laughter. “Cold-hearted wench.” Joe reached over and caught her hand, brought it to his lips. She felt the tingle all the way to her toes. “We did win, though, didn't we?” he asked.

“Because you came back on the field. Are you sorry you didn't go on playing? I know you dropped out not long after you started at Michigan. If you'd kept playing, you probably would have been drafted. You could have played professional ball.”

Joe shook his head. “I'm not sorry ... not about football. It's a game. I love watching but I like what I'm doing now better. I like working for myself, being my own boss, setting my own goals.”

“You always had such drive, so much energy. You wanted to make something of yourself... and you wanted a family.”

He cast her a sideways glance. “I pretty much gave up that idea . . . until lately.”

Syl gasped as Joe sharply turned the wheel and pulled the car over to the side of the road. “I hate to do this but I just can't wait any longer. Do you know how hard it's been for me not to kiss