October Snow (35 page)

Sam was standing at the picture window of her bedroom, watching Jo as she sat on the dock, dangling her feet in the water. Daisy slept beside her.

“How’re you feeling, Bim?” Max came in with a small tray, laden with cinnamon rolls, sliced oranges, and a carafe of fresh coffee.

Sam turned. “Good morning. I’m actually feeling some energy today.” She had gone through the few days since arriving at the lake with some pronounced fatigue. “I’m getting settled in.” She turned back to the window, troubled. “What’s wrong with her, Max?”

“What’s she doing?” she deflected, handing her a cup and joining her at the window.

“Thanks.” She took a sip, still studying Jo. “And you didn’t answer.”

“Crap, a month ago you wouldn’t have noticed,” she grinned.

“Oh, I would have noticed. I simply would have backed down.” She fixed her stare on Max then, waiting.

“She’s dealing with a few issues.”

Sam sighed. “Look, if she doesn’t want me to know, that’s okay. Just say so.”

“The thing is, I don’t
know
if she wants you to know.” She went to the nightstand where she had set the tray, taking a few slices of orange. “I think maybe she does, but she doesn’t want to stress you out…?”

“Well, I’ve been such a dipstick for so long, I guess I brought that on myself.”

“That’s a little harsh, don’t you think?”

She shrugged. “Doesn’t matter.” She took a roll for herself. “If she’s in trouble, I think I should know.”

“In trouble?”

“There’s something going on with her, and I’m thinking it has more to do with decisions made than it does with issues unresolved.”

Max felt a chill. “I’m not following you.” The truth was, she hadn’t expected such an insight from her.

“Me neither. Not really. I just get this feeling that these ‘issues’
are
resolved. And if that’s the case, then what’s up with
that
?” She pointed to Jo, then looked back at Max, her eyes wide with worry.

“I think you may be right.”

“She’s so calm. So
quiet
. But in a strange way, like she’s made her peace or something.” She took a small bite, then put the roll back on the plate. “I’m worried.”

“No place more peaceful than a grave,” Max mumbled.

“What did you say?”

“Something she said once, during one of our philosophy bull-sessions. She’d had a fight with one of her boys. I think it was Johnny. He said, ‘Mom, I just want peace,’in answer to something she said…Something about how she didn’t appreciate what Keith was saying about her to the boys, that it was his way of turning them against her.” She sighed, puffing her cheeks out as she exhaled. “Which she was right about in the end, by the way. Anyway, I was leaning toward Johnny’s idea of just being at peace, and she said, ‘You know what? Peace is overrated. The most peaceful place on earth is a grave. And I don’t want to be buried alive.’”

“Wait–are you thinking she’s suicidal?”

“No. If for no other reason than she’s too religious.”

“Really? You sure?”

“I feel pretty safe in the assumption, but…I’m watching, just in case.” She refilled their cups, saying, “I’m thinking she may be giving up, though.”

“On…?”

“Life. But that doesn’t mean she’s angling for death, it just means…”

“Hopelessness.”

“Yeah.”

Sam thought it over, finally saying, “No. That’s just not right. How do we help her?”

“I think, if we listen carefully, she’ll tell us how.”

“You know, she seemed to turn a corner on Monday night. What happened then?”

Max was tapping her foot, watching Daisy get up and amble toward the house. Jo didn’t move. “She had gotten some messages from the boys. I think she listened to them Monday night.”

“Where’s her phone?”

Max gave her a disapproving look. “We can’t invade her privacy like that.”

“Why the hell not? You think Jo would hesitate for a minute, if it was to help you or me?”

She didn’t answer, and Sam moved in front of her, forcing her to look at her. “You know she’d do it in a heartbeat.”

Max looked away. “I don’t know her password.”

“I bet I do–the same one she uses on her bank card.”

“She gave you her password?”

“Gave me the actual
card
a few months ago, when she floated me a loan. It’s the numerical date that she left Keith for good. I hope she saved the messages.”

“Wait here. Keep an eye on her, that she doesn’t start back inside.”

Max sprinted down the hall to Jo’s room, finding the phone inside the nightstand by her bed. She ran back to Sam’s room. “Here.”

Sam quickly accessed the voicemail. There were three messages saved on it.

The first was from Matt. “Hi. It’s me. Listen,” there was a several-second pause, “I really need to talk to you.”

“This was…What? Two days after the wedding?” Sam looked at Max, confused.

“Shhh.”

“Mom, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately, about the things we’ve talked about. And I just want to tell you, I really do love you but I think you did a lot in my life to hurt my relationship with Dad.” He spoke rapidly, almost in a monotone. “I want to know that it matters to you, and I’m now asking for you to apologize to me, and to Dad, or I can’t be involved in a relationship with you.” There was another long pause, then the call disconnected.

Max was staring open-mouthed at the phone.

Sam had one hand over her mouth, the other on Max’s back. “Oh…Oh, no, Max.”

“I can’t believe this. He sounded like a robot.”

Apologize
?

She thought again about the things Jo had told her, about what she saw as the invariable, inevitable fate of battered mothers. No wonder she was hopeless: she knew what was happening, and she also knew that there was no way to stop it.

“That son of a bitch Keith. He still needs to hurt her–probably gets that idiot Shelly to manipulate them.” She saved the message, waiting for the next one to begin.

“Mom, it’s Matt again. Just wanted to be sure we’re clear on this. Call me when you want to take full responsibility for the things you’ve done. The door’s open, whenever you’re ready, and I know the things that made you be like you are, and it’s okay.” Another pause, then, “Okay. ‘Bye.” Then, a moment later, “I look forward to talking with you very soon. And I love you.”

Max looked as if she might throw the phone across the room, and Sam squeezed her shoulder. “Steady.”

“That vicious little bastard.”

“He’s confused, Max.”

“Not Matt. His bastard
daddy
. And his useful idiot of a wife.”

“I know.”

“There’s nothing she can
do
,” Max hissed. “Except help Keith look like her victim.”

The next message was chilling: it was a full minute of someone breathing into the phone, and nothing else.

“What the hell…?” Max saved it, then brought up the received calls log on Jo’s phone. “That came in almost three hours after Matt’s last call. It was restricted.”

Sam was visibly shaken. “What’s going on, Max?”

“I don’t know.” She glanced out the window, where Jo still sat on the dock. “Let’s go see how she’s doing.”

A group of starlings gathered on the birch tree that overhung the dock, singing raucously, too loudly for Jo to tolerate. Her senses were far too raw that morning; she was acutely aware of everything going on around her. She coughed hard a few times, and the birds scattered in an instant. Even the rush of their wings jarred her–she had been unable to completely dispose of the aura that had returned late the night before.

Her dreams had been the haunting kind, with one in particular that broke her heart when she awakened from it: in it, she was simply sitting alone in one of the many orchards that dotted New Hampshire, under an apple tree, waiting for her sons to arrive. At some point, as she understood that they would never come, she began to cry–and then, they suddenly appeared before her. Her father was behind them, holding his arms open to her. “You loved me anyway,” she sobbed, a blessed relief washing over her as he lifted her effortlessly into his arms.

She looked out over the lake, wrapping her arms around herself, still able to feel him there. Her stomach hurt badly.

Loved me anyway
, she mused.
What would that have been like
? She looked up at the sky, at the endless hues of gray and white.

Father, I’m so tired
.

She wondered then if maybe, the dream wasn’t about the boys after all.

She looked up as her friends approached, with a smile that didn’t quite make it into her eyes. “Hey, we’re fully conjugated.” She reached for her sandals. “Good morning, you lazy girls.”

“Brought you a coffee.” Max sat beside her, touching the water with her toe. “Yikes. Cold.”

“It always seems colder on cloudy days.” She took the mug from her. “Thanks.”

They were quiet for a while, then Max asked, “So what’s on your mind?”

Jo tried to be playful. “No penny?”

Max watched a butterfly bob and weave over the wildflowers that lined the side of the dock. “You owe me a few.”

“I’m just enjoying the morning.” She drew her legs up, folding her arms across her knees.

They were quiet again for a minute, then Max said, “Let’s go to Marcia’s for some of those pancakes.”

“Please. I’m starving,” Sam said, pulling her wrap tighter around her shoulders. “And freezing.”

Jo felt guilty, being in such a black mood when the idea was to enjoy some down time, and she forced as genuine a smile as she could manage. “Now that’s living. Let’s go get ready.”

She managed to be in good spirits at the diner, joking around with the waitress, and even getting a chuckle out of Gabe when she playfully called him “Lurch.” “I’ll comp the coffees for that one,” he laughed.

After breakfast, they stopped at Lettie’s to get the fresh strawberries that Tina had mentioned, enjoying watching Samantha fall in love with small-town New Hampshire. On their way back to the house, they stopped at a makeshift flower vendor who was selling roses from the back of his old pickup truck. When he found out that Sam was engaged, he wrapped an extra dozen of the pink tea roses, placing them in her arms as if she were Miss America. “All the best to you, my dear,” the old man said, and Sam kissed him on the cheek.

“It’s like going back in time,” she said as they pulled up to the house. “Hey, remember when we were talking about that, back at Barley’s?” She grew pensive then. “Maybe you
can
go back, huh?”

“Maybe,” Max answered. Daisy trotted down the driveway to greet them, and she pulled a dog biscuit from her pocket.

“You’re kidding, right? You carry those in your pocket now? C’mere, baby.” Jo slapped her thigh, and Daisy sauntered over with the treat in her mouth, her eyes asking if she could have it. Jo bent to kiss her. “Yes, enjoy.” The dog wagged her tail, then walked sedately to the house, waiting for them to open the door.

“I’m going to talk Dave into buying a camp up here. I want our kids to have this.”

“Have you thought more about getting married right away?”

“We’ve been discussing it.” Her phone rang as she got out of the car. “Hey, speaking of tall, dark, and…”

“Just answer it, Bim.” Jo handed Max a couple of the bags from Lettie’s, and they walked ahead to give her some privacy.

A few minutes later, Sam appeared in the kitchen. “Dave left the office early. He has a lunch meeting, and then he’ll swing by the house to get Tyler. They’ll be here by five.” She grabbed the milk from the counter, pouring a glass for herself before she put it in the refrigerator. Bending to check her reflection in the stainless steel toaster on the counter, she asked, “How do I look?”

Max said, “Gorgeous,” at the same time that Jo answered, “Tired.”

Sam rolled her eyes at them.

“You look like a tired gorgeous person,” Max quipped.

“Hey, Dave wanted me to ask you guys if he can steal me away for a quiet dinner, just the two of us–will you watch Ty?”

“Sure.”

“Not me,” Max said.

Jo sighed at her, annoyed.

“Just kidding, okay?”

“This is romance, Bim. In case you’ve forgotten what that is, we approve.” Jo handed Sam a vase for the roses.

“Ow.” She grinned, grabbing the cooler from the pantry. “It’s turning nice outside. I’m throwing a six pack in here, and spending what’s left of my freedom today out by the lake.”

“Be out in a few.” She watched Sam pulling glassware from the cabinet. “What are you doing?”

“I’m getting out three glasses. We have two dozen roses, and I’m putting some in each of our bedrooms.” She set the tumblers on the counter. “I’m giving you all of the tea roses. I know they’re your favorite. After daisies.”

She scrunched her face up. “I never told you that.”

“I overheard you telling someone at the restaurant a few months ago. You said your mom used to put them in your room every summer.” She smiled shyly. “You’re doing so much for everyone, Jo. I just want to find whatever little ways I can to let you know…I really appreciate it. I wonder…” She stopped then, unsure.

“What?”

“I just…I wonder if you think sometimes that people don’t ‘see’ you, you know?” She paused again, taking in Jo’s sudden closed expression. “Look, I want to be honest, but I can tell you’re going through some stuff right now, and I don’t want to say the wrong thing.”

“It’s okay. Go ahead.”

“It’s just that…” She took a deep breath. “I love you, and I’m worried about you. So’s Max.”

“I know.”

“Are you okay?”

She smiled, touching Sam’s cheek. “I’ll be fine. It’s been a lot of years for me, never any time to reflect, to regroup. I’m doing that here. But it’s something of a process, know what I mean?”

Sam nodded, watching her closely and not believing her. “You’re sure?”

“Yes.”

“Will you talk if you need to? To me, or Max, or someone?”

“Promise. Thanks for the roses.”

“I’ll put them in our rooms and be out to join you guys.”

She watched Jo go down the steps from the deck, feeling that she had failed her–and discouraged that her friend had just looked straight into her eyes, and lied.