The Christmas Clock and A Song For My Mother - Kat Martin Page 0,33

rarely seen them.

She wished so much there was something she could do.

Joe knocked on the door of the Macks' two-story brick home and waited for someone to answer. The house was in a middle-class neighborhood, the inside kept fairly clean. But there was something missing in this house, something Joe couldn't quite put a name to.

From what Joe had seen on his few brief visits, the two Mack kids had little respect for their parents. Which was maybe because the parents paid little attention to their kids. He wondered if they were doing the temporary foster home thing for the extra money or to prove to themselves they weren't really the rotten parents they seemed.

Whatever the reason, Joe hated that Teddy was there. Now that the petition had been denied, the court would find the boy a permanent placement. Joe prayed it was a better home than the one the Macks provided.

The odds weren't good. The system was overcrowded. Kids had to take what they could get. Joe tried not to think where Teddy might wind up.

The door swung open just then and Teddy appeared in the opening. Joe's stomach knotted. “Hey, kid.”

“Joe!” Teddy surprised him by running straight toward him, clamping his small arms around Joe's waist. Joe knelt in front of him and the kid's arms went around his neck. Joe's chest squeezed. He had always wanted a son. Now it looked as if fate had put an end to that dream again.

Joe carried him over to the edge of the porch and they sat down on one of the steps.

“Mr. Mack said you were coming over. I'm really glad to see you.”

“Me, too, Teddy.”

Joe asked him how he was doing in school, how he was getting along with Billy and Sissy, the two Mack kids, all the things an adult asks a child, anything to avoid the subject he had come to discuss. But time was ticking past, and occasionally, he saw Mrs. Mack peer out the window. He knew he wouldn't have much more time before they made Teddy come back inside the house.

“There's something we need to talk about, Teddy.”

The boy looked up at him, his eyes dark and uncertain. “Coming to live with you?”

“I'm afraid that's not going to happen, son. You see, there's something I never told you, something that happened when I was younger. I got in a fight with a man and when I hit him, he fell and hit his head. He died, Teddy, and I went to jail. That's the reason they won't let you live with me. They don't think I'd make a good father."

“Because of the man who died in the fight?”

Joe nodded. “I never meant for it to happen but it was my punch that knocked him down. Refusing my request to become your guardian... that's just part of the price I have to pay for losing my temper.”

“You don't lose your temper anymore.”

“No, I don't. I learned a very hard lesson. But the law says a man with a criminal record can't be a foster parent.”

Teddy's eyes glazed with tears. “Maybe if I told them what a good dad you would make, they'd change their minds.”

“I wish they would, Teddy. God, I wish they would. But I don't think that's going to happen.” He pulled the boy onto his lap and just held him. Joe could feel the warmth of his small body, feel him tremble with the effort to hold back his tears.

“So do I have to stay here with the Macks?”

“I'm not sure. The court will probably find you a different home, someplace where you'll be happy.” Joe prayed he wasn't going to disappoint the boy again.

“I'd be happy with you, Joe.”

A lump formed in his throat. “I know you would. I'd be happy with you, too, Teddy. But sometimes, God has other plans for us. Maybe he has a family all picked out for you that is going to be just perfect.’

Teddy sniffled, buried his face in Joe's shoulder. “I don't want another family. I want you, Joe.”

Joe's eyes slid closed. “Don't cry, son. Everything's going to be all right.”

“I'm not crying,” Teddy said into the lapel of Joe's wool coat. “Crying's for wimps and I'm not a wimp."

Joe almost smiled. “No, you're not.” He eased the boy a little away from him. Inside his chest, his heart was squeezing, beating with heavy, painful thuds. “You worked for me, didn't you? Right there at Murdock's Auto Repair. You were paid a wage,