“Dewey?” I called, feeling sure and yet not sure all at the same time.
“Good to see you, Julia!”
He kept on coming in my direction. But the woman with the hat just got out of the car and stood watching. It wasn’t Dewey’s wife, I knew that. Had he brought his mother? She was nearly as difficult as Samuel’s mother.
Suddenly I felt cold and scared inside. Samuel’s mother. Joanna.
I had to push myself to walk in their direction. What could have brought them? Especially her. She’d never been to visit us. Not even when we lived closer. We’d had to go and seek her out when we had Robert and Sarah, or she never would have seen her grandbabies. Joanna just didn’t visit.
Dewey came right up and enthusiastically pumped my hand. “A man we talked to at the train depot directed us to your friend at the service station across the road,” he explained. “And he was good enough to drive us all the way out here. I was expecting to hire out a taxi car. Didn’t realize Dearing wouldn’t have one.”
I just stood with my hand still holding his, almost too surprised to speak. Katie had followed me, and Sarah was suddenly at my side. Franky and Emmie came up close too.
“This is . . . quite a surprise.” I managed to say.
“Well, yes. We thought it might be. And we were worried for most of the trip. It was a great relief to hear from your friend that Samuel’s been up and about some. How is he today?”
I just stared for a moment. This didn’t seem real. They knew? They knew Samuel had been hurt? But I didn’t mail the letter. And we didn’t call.
“Mom, who is he?” Sarah whispered.
I suppose that might have been less than polite, but I wasn’t behaving much better, just standing there staring. “It’s your father’s cousin Dewey,” I said. “And . . . and your grandma.”
Sarah’s whole face lit up. “Grandma? Oh, I prayed you’d come!”
I looked at my daughter in shock, and then I thought I understood. Sarah had mailed that letter. She must have.
Sarah didn’t wait for her grandmother to approach us on her own. She ran over and took hold of her hand. “Thank you!” she cried. “Thank you for coming!”
I held my breath, almost expecting Joanna to pull away or say something unkind. But she only stood still for a moment, looking surprised at Sarah. And then she said her name. “Sarah.” And it was a voice I didn’t know. I stepped closer as her eyes turned to me.
“Julia, I hope we’re not intruding. But after your letter, we . . . I—I just felt like I needed to come.”
“You’re welcome,” I told her, feeling that she needed to hear that assurance immediately. “You’re both very welcome here.”
“Is Samuel inside?”
“Yes. He was lying down.”
Her eyes were deep and sparkling with a hint of tears. They didn’t look like Joanna’s eyes. Not the Joanna I had known before, who with one glance could make me wish I had somewhere to hide.
“Sarah’s grown up so tall and beautiful,” she said. She turned to Franky. “And this, this must be Robert.”
“No, ma’am. I’m Frank.”
“Frank? Oh. A neighbor.”
“Yes, ma’am. And this is my sister.”
Emmie smiled, but that was all.
“Are you the boy my Samuel saved?”
Franky stood tall and proud, his ciphers book in one hand. “No, ma’am. That was my brother. And we’re grateful. Mr. Wortham’s a hero.”
It was so unlike Joanna to say something like “my Samuel” that I began to wonder if it was really her. But it looked like her. Except for the kindness in those eyes.
“It didn’t surprise me to hear it,” Dewey was saying. “I just hope it’s the last time.”
“Do you think it’d be all right for us to go in and see him?” Joanna was asking me almost timidly. “I don’t want to disturb him too much if he’s resting.”
“Oh, goodness,” I said, snapping out of my shock. “Yes, of course. He’d want to see you. Right now. Come on in, please.”
“Do you want me to get Robert?” Franky asked quickly.
“Yes,” I told him. “Yes, that would be nice. Thank you.”
I was beginning to turn and show them to the house when I noticed Joanna’s eyes suddenly on Katie.
“Are you Katie?” she asked with something solemn in her expression.
“Yes, ma’am,” Katie answered. She spilled some of the cherries out of her bowl without even noticing. Emmie scrunched down and started picking them up.
“I’m Samuel’s mother.”
Katie nodded. Then slowly she reached out her hand. “Pleased to meet you.”
“You do look like Samuel. Both Samuels.”
I was glad for her to shake Katie’s hand, but I was still not sure what to think. Samuel had dreamed something like this. I guess I’d dreamed something about it too. And I wondered if she had a box of letters stowed away in Charlie Hunter’s car.
Charlie was unloading several things from the back.
“Thank you so much for bringing them,” I told him. “My pleasure.”
Dewey grabbed all he could of their bags in his long arms, and Sarah hurried over to help him.
Charlie had to get back to work. “Have a nice visit,” he said. Then he waved and was gone.
There was nothing to do but show them in. I wondered how long they would stay, but I wasn’t sure I dared to ask. I didn’t want to do a thing to risk spoiling Joanna’s pleasant frame of mind. Even if it didn’t last and she got persnickety again, I wanted Samuel to see her like this. I wanted to watch her greet him like a mother should, maybe for the first time in his life. Even if it did feel like a waking dream.
They followed me up to the porch, and I was so proud of Emmie holding the door for them. Franky was already gone, running out to the field to tell Robert his grandmother was here. I almost wished I could see Robert’s face.
“You can set your bags anywhere,” I told them. “Samuel is on the davenport, right this way. He’s been sore, but he’s stronger, doing all right.”
“I’m glad,” Joanna said. “The letter frightened me. I kept thinking he might’ve been lost. And me never telling him the things I should.”
I tried not to stare.
Lord God, only you can make this kind of change in a person, if it is truly real. Does she know you now?
I thought Samuel would hear us as we came in. But he was lying so still, his eyes closed, and I knew he was asleep, with a bed pillow under his head and a cushion hugged to his side.
“Samuel?” Joanna called his name softly, and I couldn’t help but think of her jagged, ugly voice taunting him the day I met her.
“Who is she, Samuel? Speak up, or she’ll think she’s got hold of a stammering baboon!”
He woke, turning his head at the same time, as if looking for the voice. I saw the stark change in his eyes. Surprise. But past that, I saw the familiar wariness in him as he began to lift his head. He was always on guard with her. Always.
“Samuel, don’t get up. Don’t let me trouble you. Just lie right there. Please.”
He laid his head back down, his eyes turning to me in question. But then Dewey stepped into his view.
“What’s this I hear about you walking through burning buildings?”
Samuel smiled a tiny smile. “Dewey.”
Dewey leaned forward, about to greet him with an embrace. But he stopped. “Don’t want to hurt you, pal,” he said.
“It’s all right,” Samuel told him. And they hugged. These two had played together. These two had been the best of friends, enduring together the tumultuous ways of both sets of parents. And they’d become good men. I was glad for them. I was always glad to hear from Dewey. And I was so glad to see him again.
Joanna stood watching without a word. I could remember her hugging Samuel only once, at our wedding. And that had been stiff and mostly because people had expected it.
“Son?” she said, sounding timid again. Dewey turned around and reached to give her hand a squeeze. That gesture surprised me as much as anything else.
For a moment nobody said anything more. Samuel and his mother only looked at each other. I saw his eyes soften, and I knew he was seeing the same difference I had seen.
“Mom,” Samuel finally said. “I—”
“No. Don’t say another word.”
Like a sudden veil, the hurt was in Samuel’s eyes again. “Juli, some water—”
“I’ll get it!” Sarah ran for the kitchen.
Joanna stepped just close enough to reach and touch Samuel’s hand.
“Son, I need you just to listen. For just a minute. Please.”
She had tears in her eyes. Samuel did too. Just a little. He was still not sure of what he was going to hear. I wasn’t either. But I knew it would be different from anything we’d ever heard from her before.
“I’m glad . . .” she started. “I’m glad you’re all right. I called Dewey and asked if he might be able to come with me. I’m so glad he could. It’s such a long way. But I’d have come alone if I needed to. Oh, Sammy . . .”
She lowered her head. Samuel carefully took her hand in his. “It’s all right, Mom.”
“No. Nothing’s been all right. For years now. And I’m so sorry.”
I saw those words wash over Samuel. Words he’d never heard but had needed for so long. He didn’t move. He didn’t say anything. He closed his eyes for just a second, and when he opened them they were awash with tears. I noticed suddenly that Katie was crying too, and I took her hand.
“Can you forgive me, Samuel? I was such a poor mother. And you should’ve had so much better.”
He reached both arms to her and pulled her into his embrace. At first she was taken off guard a little. She was stiff, but then she stretched her arms around him and held him. “Thank God you survived,” she whispered to him. “If you’d gone—if you’d been killed and I never made it right—oh, Sammy, how could I forgive myself? I was such a drunk. I was so caught up—”
“Mom, you’re saying
was
. . .”
She lifted herself up from him. I was waiting just as anxiously for her answer as Samuel was.
“I’m trying to change. I . . . I am changed. At least a start.”
“Joanna,” I dared ask, “do you know the Lord?”
“I’m trying to know him. Trying to learn. I want a piece of what you’ve been trying to share with me for so long. I’ve been re-reading your letters. All of them. Over and over. And then when the new one from Julia came—”
She stopped for just a second, and Samuel looked at me.
“I was scared I was too late,” she finished. “Too late to tell you that I love you. And I’m sorry. And none of it, none of it was your fault.”
Samuel took his mother in his arms again. He closed his eyes and he whispered, “Thank you.”
I didn’t know if he was telling her that, or God.
Joanna and Dewey stayed two weeks. Two strange and wonderful weeks in which it felt like we were discovering a new kind of treasure. Joanna told us how Samuel’s old letters about God in our lives had kept touching her, drawing her back to read them again and again, for months now. And how Sarah’s little note moved her to tears, especially since she’d been ignoring Sarah’s letters for so long.
“We love you,”
Sarah had written.
“And God loves you too.”
It had been enough to spark something hungry in Joanna, and she wept and called Dewey and made her plans to come out here and wept some more. She brought every letter with her, in one of her bags, and started reading them again on the train, asking Dewey how Samuel had learned what he did, how he’d managed to become a Christian.
Dewey was young at the things of God. He’d only been in church three months himself, but he recognized a need and did his best to answer the questions. And then when he didn’t think he had any more answers, an ordained minister got on the train and sat down right in front of them.
The rest of the ride was like church. That minister prayed with them both before he got off the train, just two stops before Dearing.
We had a wonderful visit with Samuel’s mother and Dewey. Better than we could have imagined. And made so much better, just knowing the miracle God had wrought. When it finally came time for them to go, we took them to the train ourselves with hugs and kisses.
After that, it seemed like things were getting back to normal. Elvira’s husband was well enough so that everyone was back to school, though they’d had six days off while Joanna was here.
Some of the men from the church came out again and helped George put up fence so the Hammonds could have their animals back home again. George seemed to be in better spirits then. He came over and spent some time with Franky in the woodshop, complimenting him for the tool handles he was so carefully making. Franky went home that night, but only for one night.
Rorey came over that day, very solemn and quiet. I knew why she’d come. I knew she wanted to make amends. But she was having a hard time finding any words to say. Finally she just brought Samuel a bouquet of the last of the fading wildflowers, the way the girls used to do when they were little. Sarah hugged her, and then Rorey told them both she was sorry.
Katie was thinking more and more about her mother, I could tell. She wrote her grandmother a long letter asking lots of questions. And some days later, she was excited to get an answer. But if her grandmother knew where her mother was right then or much of anything else, she didn’t tell us.
Sam Hammond had been around a lot helping his father whenever he could, in between WPA jobs. They got in what late hay they could, but there was nothing any of us could do about the loss of the field crop. Sam brought Thelma and the children out the Saturday after Joanna and Dewey left. It was amazing to see how much Rosemary had grown in such a short time.
Little Georgie was as energetic as ever. I tied the pan cupboard shut again, but he didn’t even try to pull the apron loose this time. Instead, he waited till no one was looking and opened an entirely different cupboard. In a matter of seconds, with a delightful array of clanks and thumps, he had my mixing bowls, sifter, and canning lids spread out across the floor. Oh, how he laughed! Sweet triumph. I had to laugh with him.
Samuel tried to resume his normal activities. The dizziness was gone and his headaches were fading. But his ribs were not healed. Moving still hurt, lifting things hurt, and I had to get after him a few times to take it easy. He still tired so much more quickly than he had before. Bert was walking fine. Franky’s hands were doing fine. But Samuel still worried me sometimes, when I saw the weariness or the pain in his eyes.