October Snow (50 page)

“I’m going to watch out for her boys. I owe her that.”

She took his hand. “We have to keep her secret, too. You and I are the only ones who know everything.”

“And I intend to keep it that way.”

“Good.”

They were quiet again for a while.

“You picked the perfect spot for her, Max. It’s beautiful.”

“Yeah,” she said softly. “She grew up in the middle of so much beauty–it was like, the real world was too much for her. She couldn’t survive the ugliness.”

“Sounds like you’ll forgive her someday.”

She smiled at his insight. “I think I already do.”

“I know.”

She let go of his hand and lit a cigarette. She held it out in front of her, studying it for a moment. “Right after I met her, I quit smoking for three weeks–so much peer pressure, you know?–and I was complaining about how hard it was. I was looking for her to give me some support. Know what she said?”

He shook his head, grinning in anticipation.

“She told me if I was going to quit anything, to quit being a conformist, think for myself, and stop being boring.”

He laughed. “She told me ‘boring’is more contagious than measles, and not nearly as much fun.”

They were lost in their thoughts for a minute, then Max grew serious. “Know how she hoped to die?”

“Now that’s a strange topic.”

“We discussed a lot of weird things.”

“How?”

“She wanted to be so much in love–I guess
be
so loved–that if he went before her, she’d die of a broken heart. Like her mom.”

He looked down. “Wow.”

“Yeah.” She took one last look at the place where Jo’s spirit finally rested. “In the end, I guess she died of a broken heart anyway.”

Exactly two weeks later, Max watched Will and Dave drive away from the old apartment house, their cars packed with the few belongings she was taking with her to Boston.

She sat on the front steps and pulled out the letter. As she opened it, a tiny gold cross on a long, delicate chain fell out.

Dear Maxine,

I’ll rip this up myself if I come back from the beach house, but the truth is, I don’t know what’s going to happen. I just know that I’m getting to the point where I need to find a way out. And that means if you’re reading this, then I need to explain some things to you, because I want you to remember me with love–not pain.

I trust you to destroy this letter after you’ve read it. I know you’ll understand why.

She thought about it for a few moments, then nodded.

I’ve been trying for a long time to tell you–or I told myself I did–but then I’d realize that there’s nothing you can do.

See, when I married Keith, it seemed beautiful. It started out a beautiful thing, believe it or not. And I clung desperately to that, even as the ugliness started, because I just couldn’t live with the way evil destroys everything it touches. With him–maybe even before him, I think that’s probably true–the world took on this aura of unreality for me, and it stayed with me even after I got away from him. But he showed me the evil that people are capable of, things that are just impossible, and I know things now that I should never have known. And they stayed with me even after I escaped. Or thought I did.

I can’t get rid of them. Like that bright red wall in my apartment when I moved in, remember? We painted over it how many times, and the red would still bleed through. It was still there, changing the hue of anything we tried to cover it with.

And that’s what happened to me–but it’s more than that.

What he left me with, I don’t know–maybe what
life
left me with–was like that story I told you, about the snow that October, clumped all over the leaves. Some things, they’re just so unnatural that the mind can’t comprehend them. They just shouldn’t
be
. Life, for me, became this surreal, scary place of running from the ugliness, so fast that it made it impossible to rest and to fix my eyes on the things that were beautiful. But at the same time, I’d go running right into the ugliness, because I imagined I could save myself by fixing it. Remember when you asked me if I had a hero complex or a death wish? I think, in the end, they’re the same thing.

I know what’s wrong with me, but the ugly things that got inside me bleed through, and there’s no way to cover them over. I tried, Max, I really tried hard. I’m sorry for worrying you–and I know I did–and I’m sorry that you’re reading this right now. And I know that you’ll be mad at me–which is, you know, something that people pretend is guilt, so you need to stop thinking it’s guilt and go ahead and be mad at me. But please, only for a while. You don’t need to go through your life being angry.

She smiled, the tears welling in her eyes. “Still bossing me around, Bim?”

And when you’re done being angry, I want you to put the blame–for all of the other things that have hurt you–where it belongs. It’s important to do that, Max. You can’t forgive if you don’t acknowledge the offense.

The cross was mine. My mom gave it to me when I was a little girl. I took it off on a very bad night a few years ago, and by the time I put it back on again, I was already going dead inside. It will remind you of Who to take the pain to, and where to get the answers, and I hope you’ll wear it. Please, don’t let yourself get to the point where you just can’t talk to Him anymore.

The other stuff, the things that I don’t have the words to describe–I think you already understand those anyway.

She nodded. “I do.” She held the letter away so her tears wouldn’t fall on it.

For that–for so many things–thank you, my friend. I love you.

Until I see you again…

She held the necklace in her hand, thinking it over as she folded the letter; then, she pulled out her phone.

“Dave? I’m actually going to be delayed a few days…
No
, I’m not changing my mind. I need to take a quick road trip.” She slipped the cross over her neck. “Elmira. It’s in southern New York.”

.

Epilogue

I
N HER HURRY
, Max dropped her phone.

“Will? You still there?”

“Right here.”

“She’s at Mercy Hospital?” Max was at her car, digging for her keys.

“They got here an hour ago. Dave says it looks like the baby’s coming quick.”

“She’s almost a month early. Hold on a minute. Geez, it’s freezing out.”

She gunned her car into traffic, hoping that a few weeks wouldn’t affect the baby too much. A horn blared, someone yelled something unintelligible. “Boston drivers,” she sighed.

He laughed. “You don’t realize that you’re becoming one yourself?”

“Very funny. I need to focus. Be there as fast as I can.”

She sprinted down the hallway to where Will sat, tapping his feet and looking at the clock every few seconds. He stood when he saw her, taking her hand and bending to give her a quick kiss. “It takes something like this to get to see you these days?” he teased.

“I’m trying to get used to being the oldest broad on campus.”

“And the best-looking.”

“Granted. How’s Sammy?”

“More together than Dave is, that’s for sure.”

They sat and waited, holding hands, talking about Dave and his nerves–which was a hilarious thing to see, from someone normally so collected–and Max’s courses at Boston College, and Will’s difficult new case.

“No, no details, Max. In law school, you’ll learn about the use–and the value–of theoretical discussions.”

“Think I’ll get in?”

“I do,” he said simply.

She sighed, looking at the clock again. “Wonder how it’s going.”

“By the way, Dave said you’re done with the counseling. Is it okay for me to ask you about that?”

She nodded. “I’ve gotten all I’m going to get out of it. I’m ready to move on, at least to the extent that I think I can cope now.” She looked up at him. “How do you think Sammy’s doing?”

“I think she’s going to be okay. But it still seems like she has some issues about the baby.”

“I know. She goes back and forth.”

“Dave thinks she’ll be okay once the baby’s here.”

“I hope so.” She and Dave had spent countless hours talking about the truth that only they knew, and his struggle to overcome his own guilt over Jo’s death–and it seemed that he was slowly finding peace. Sam seemed to alternate between anticipation and ambivalence when it came to the baby; however, Tyler was already so much in love with his little brother or sister that his energy was infectious, and it went a long way toward helping all of them cope.

Dave emerged an hour later, beaming, tossing aside the white gown he had worn in the room with Sam.

They stood, waiting.

“We have a perfect, beautiful, six-pound-one-ounce, exquisite, healthy…”

“
What
?” Max yelled.

“Girl.”

She gasped. “A
girl
…”

Will was delighted, shaking Dave’s hand. “Congratulations.”

He grabbed them both for a hug. “Sammy wants to see you. Come on.”

They quietly opened the door to her room, and Max tentatively peeked inside.

“Hey, you.”

Sam was smiling, but obviously exhausted. “Hey. Get in here.”

Max took her hand and kissed her on the head, then gazed over her shoulder at the baby she held. Dave was right: she was perfect. “Good work, Sammy.” She grinned. “But you look beat.”

“No kidding.” She looked down, smiling softly as she adjusted the pink blanket around her daughter. The baby stared up at her, quiet, her eyes wide and curious. “Isn’t she beautiful?” She looked up at Max.

“She’s gorgeous.”

“I can’t believe I have a daughter.”

Max looked over to Dave. He winked.

“I’ve never
seen
a more
precious
little
girl
…” Sam was cooing to her daughter.

Max stroked the baby’s hand.

“Here.” She held the baby out slightly. “Hold your goddaughter.”

Max expected to feel hesitant, but all she could feel was their joy. She cradled the tiny child, smiling down at her. “Hey, you…What’s her name, guys?”

Sam reached for Dave’s hand, pulling him over to sit on the bed with her. “It took us a while to decide,” she said. “We wanted so much to name her after Jo, but with the history…”

“It was a nice thought.”

“So we decided to give her a legacy, instead of a namesake.”

Max looked up at them, waiting.

Dave, his voice thick, said, “You’re holding Hope Delaney.”

“
Oh
.” It was a short burst of sudden emotion. “Oh, gosh…” Her eyes widened as she thought about it. “That’s beautiful.” She glanced at Will, not sure what else to say.

“Good choice, guys,” he said, his hand on her back.

“We wanted to honor her somehow,” Dave said quietly.

Max met his eyes. “You have.”

The sun was setting, the golden light streaming through a sudden burst of flurries. “Look, Hope,” she said, walking her to the window, bouncing her lightly.

“Wow,” Dave said, yawning. He laid on the bed with Samantha, wrapping his arms around her. “Snow on October eighteenth. That’s too early, even for Boston.”

“It happens,” Will said.

Max gazed into the sky, holding Jo’s legacy for her to see.

She whispered, “It’s the most natural thing in the world.”

The End