October Snow (8 page)

Amy held up a finger without raising her head. “Hold on.”

Jo looked over her shoulder at Max, who shrugged, grinned, and went to the other side of the table, standing with her hands in her pockets.

Amy looked up then. “Flanking me?”

Max snorted. “Don’t be paranoid.”

Jo pushed the chair back in. “We have just a couple of minutes, Amy. What did you want?”

Amy feigned a look of surprise, making no effort to cover her hostility. “Oh, I didn’t realize you were so busy. Forgive me.” She pushed her black-rimmed reading glasses up onto her head. Barb had a pair exactly like them.

For the first time, Jo noticed that Amy seemed to emulate Barb in several ways: unlike Barb, Amy was rail-thin; but she always dressed in ankle-length skirts and spike heels, she had the same 1950’s hairstyle as Barb–and she was wearing the same sneer that Barb used when she was about to crush someone.

Max sighed and folded her arms. “C’mon, Jo. Let’s get going.”

Jo nodded, and they turned to leave.

Amy stood up, gathering the stacks of papers, not looking at them. “Fine. You don’t think you owe me at least an explanation…”

Jo stopped. Without turning, she mumbled, “You have
got
to be kidding.”

“Excuse me?”

She looked up at the ceiling, as if asking for strength.

Amy threw the papers down on the table; several of them drifted to the floor. “Say it so I can
hear
you. Do you have any idea the kind of bind we’re in now, with Mother’s Day next weekend and then Memorial Day two weeks after? Do you really think we’ll have someone up to speed in that time…?”

Max touched Jo’s arm. “Let’s just go.”

Amy was still lecturing, her voice getting louder as she spoke. “…and how in the
hell
are we going to…”

Jo shook Max’s hand off of her arm, and turned to face Amy. “
Shut up
!” Her heart was starting to thud painfully again. “
Just shut up
! Who,
exactly
, do you think you’re talking to? I don’t even work here anymore!”

Later, as she reflected on it, Jo would remember that Amy actually took on a small, nasty grin, like she had been hoping Jo
would
get rattled. Jo hadn’t realized, until then, how much Amy hated her, or how much she hated Amy.

“You know, I came in here to see if maybe, just this once, you’d do the right thing, say the right thing. You’ve been kissing Barb’s ass for the entire time you’ve been here. Watching her abuse, intimidate, threaten, work us like hell every…single
…day
.” She hit the table with each word. “Nine, ten hours in a day, no break, trying to work in that toilet you call a kitchen, putting up with you and your
owner
and your customers…For what? Three dollars an hour, and lousy tips? You think I owe
you
something?”

Amy took a step toward her, pointing too close to her face. “What do you think the chances are that you’re going to work again after quitting like that?”

Jo laughed, batting Amy’s hand to the side. “What’s that? Friendly advice? You can’t wait to get those reference requests, can you?
Please
, hold your breath. They won’t be coming.”

“Right. You’ll live off your trust fund.”

“Know what? You’re a coward, Amy. The worst kind. You throw
other
people in front of that pit bull so she won’t attack
you
. What I did today was probably the biggest shot in the arm the workers here have gotten in a long time, and you can’t stand it.”

“Aren’t you a hero.”

Jo’s face fell. She looked at her hands, silent for a moment.

“No. No, Amy, I’m not. I’m no one’s ‘hero.’” Her voice was almost a whisper as she looked back to Amy. “And neither are
you
. But the difference is, you
could
have been.” She was about to say something else, then looked at Max, shaking her head in disgust. “Let’s go, Max.”

As they walked away, Jo turned around abruptly, taking in the entirety of the place.

Amy watched her, her face shriveled in rage. “What?” she snapped.

“Goodbye, Amy.”

“Go to hell.”

“There’s a hundred good comebacks for that one,” Max muttered as they left.

Sam was on her phone when they got to the truck. She looked at them apologetically. “I need to get back to Mom’s. Jack was over there a couple of hours ago.”

“Great,” Jo sighed. “She okay?”

“Yeah, she said he was actually being real nice, but I think he creeps her out.”

“What did he want? To find you?”

“Good question. She said she’ll give me details when I get there. But he knew I was at work all day.”

Jo thought he was likely grooming Sam’s mother to be on his team, but she didn’t comment.

They pulled up at her mother’s house twenty minutes later. Liz Bentley was standing on the front stoop of the large antique colonial, placing a clay pot of blue hydrangeas by the front door. She waved quickly, then reached inside the front door to retrieve another plant.

As the girls got out of the truck, she set it on the top step with a grunt, then wiped her hands on her baggy jeans. “Hi, kids.” She sounded amiable enough, but she was frowning.

Max lagged behind the others, lighting a cigarette. She didn’t like Liz Bentley. Jo wasn’t fond of her either, but they never mentioned their feelings about Liz to Sam, who was very much a mama’s girl.

Liz wagged a finger at Max. “Keep that away from the house, Maxine.”

“You bet.”

“And put it out in Josie’s truck, not on my driveway.”

“Yup.”

Liz seemed to be waiting for Max to say something more, but she walked around the truck and leaned against the back. “Well, hello, Josie. Haven’t seen you in a while.”

“Hi, Liz. How have you been?”

“I’ve been well, thank you. And thank you for chauffeuring Samantha around lately. I should be getting my car out of the shop tomorrow.”

“What did Jack want today, Mom?”

Jo was annoyed by the childlike tone Sam took around her mother. “Yeah, that was interesting,” she said. “He knew Sam wouldn’t be here.”

“He wanted to talk to
me
.” Jo thought there was a note of pleasure there, something almost like pride.

“Oh.” Jo walked over to the hydrangeas. “Hey, these are pretty. So, what did he say?”

“It’s family business, Josie. I promised him I’d discuss this only with Samantha.”

Isolate the target
.

“You know I’ll tell them anyway, Mom.”

Max opened the passenger door of the truck, reaching in to crush out the cigarette. She looked over the top of the truck at the three of them, her eyes expressionless. “We hanging out for a while, Jo?”

“You both go on.” Liz smiled at Jo. “Samantha doesn’t have to work tomorrow, so you can call her in the morning.”

“That’ll be just keen, Mrs. B.”

Jo shot Max a look, then reached out to give Sam a quick hug. “Call if you need anything, Sammy.” She gave Liz one of her best smiles. “Good to see you again.”

“You, too. Goodnight.”

Max raised her eyebrows, then waved and got in the truck. As they backed out into the street, she started picking at her nails.

Jo glanced at her. “You’re picking again.”

“Can’t stand that woman.” She looked back at Sam and her mother. Sam looked so small next to her. She was only slightly taller than Jo, small-boned, with dark brown hair halfway down her back. Liz was at least five-feet-ten, and very thin; and, although she would be seventy in July, had the elegance of a much younger woman. She had been a lounge singer in the early 1970’s, but claimed that she gave it up when Sam was born, thirty-eight years earlier. She told anyone and everyone–and especially Sam–how great a sacrifice it was; as a result, Sam had spent her life trying to win the approval of a mother who was determined to use her as the reason for a lifelong martyr trip.

It was a useful enhancement to Liz’s well-publicized sacrifices that Sam’s father had taken off with a neighbor lady when Sam was only four. Liz had then married twice, the first time for six years–until the guy got fed up with Liz’s temper; the second time, when Sam was thirteen. That one lasted two years. He took off for parts unknown when Sam told her mother about his late-night visits to her room. It turned out that he hadn’t needed to run: Liz didn’t believe her daughter. Not at all.

“Stop picking.”

Max stuffed her hands into her pockets. “Yeah. Can’t help it.”

“We’re going to look out for her, Max. She’ll be okay.”

“I just can’t understand how a mother can act like she does.”

Jo reached for her hand, squeezing it twice.

They pulled up at Barley’s a few minutes later; neither one moved to get out of the truck. “Want to just call it a night?” Jo asked.

“I think so. Long day. Again.”

“Where’s your car?”

Max pointed to the back of the lot, pulling her wallet from her pocket. “Got a ten? We have to pay Bobby. Leave him something, too.”

Jo pulled two twenties from the center console. “Here. This day’s on me.”

She sighed, reluctant. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.”

Lightly touching Jo’s cheek, she said, “Really. Thanks for being here.”

“Coffee in the morning. Not too early.”

Max smiled and nodded. “See ya.” As she got out, she said, “Let’s go get Sammy in the morning, take her out to breakfast or something.”

“Good idea.”

“’Nite, sweetheart.”

Max watched Jo drive off, wiping at her eyes as she headed in to pay Bobby.

.

chapter 4

B
Y MORNING, THE
weather had gone the usual way of a New Hampshire spring. The sun and the breezy warmth had blown away with a front circling in from the northeast, and it was cold, drizzly, and a little foggy.

Jo came fully awake realizing that her eyes had been half-open for a while. Daisy rolled to face her, putting a heavy paw over Jo’s stomach.

“Mornin’, Daisy.”

She thumped her tail a couple of times, and went back to sleep.

“I don’t have to go to that place today.” She gazed out the bedroom window. The birch tree that rose just above the frame was swaying hard, the branches coming within a few inches of the fragile glass with each gust.

She liked the gray, windy days; sometimes, she actually preferred them. The sunshine-and-seventies weather got boring quickly, and she had never cared much for warm weather anyway.

She gingerly moved Daisy’s paw onto the bed, and slid out from under the covers. Stretching, she laughed aloud. “I don’t ever have to go there again.”

The room was cold. She stutter-stepped over to the heater, twisting the wheel on the old steam radiator. It hissed to life immediately, but she knew it would be a while before the room was comfortable. Grabbing her blue fleece bathrobe off the back of the bedroom door, she wrapped herself in it and shivered, enjoying the sudden warmth.

I can go back to bed
. But the thought energized her, and she realized with some regret that she wouldn’t doze off again.

“Going to make coffee, Daize. You sleep.”

The microwave clock read 6:44. She made the coffee extra strong, the way Max liked it. As she pulled their mugs from the cabinet, she heard her cell phone buzzing on the nightstand. She hadn’t set the alarm the night before, and she smiled, thinking about how she no longer needed to set an alarm.

Daisy stirred as she went in to check her phone. Max had texted.

You awake?

“Wow. What are you doing up?”

Yeah just made coffee

Be up in a few

“C’mon, Daize. Out.”

They met Max coming out of her apartment as they came inside. Daisy strained at her leash, sniffing at Max’s hands, looking for her treat. “Huh-
uh
, Daisy-Lou.” She bent to scratch her neck. “Not until we get home.”

Daisy knew the word, and started dragging Jo up the steps. “Geez,
Daisy
…Yesterday, I thought she was at death’s door. Today she’s dragging me around.”

Daisy looked back for her treat as they went into Jo’s apartment, then trotted busily into the bedroom with it. Max smiled after her. “I love that dog, Jo.”

“Too much.” She handed the pink mug to her.

“What was wrong with her yesterday?”

“She was coughing. Seemed to collapse, kind of, but then she seemed fine. Had her usual trouble jumping on the bed, but the way she looked when she was coughing–that was scary.”

“Think she needs the vet?”

“I took her in last month. He said it wasn’t anything to worry about, just age.”

“Gimme your cup.” Max filled them while Jo took the cream from the refrigerator, and they took their coffee to the dining room, taking their usual seats in front of the big window.

Jo looked expectantly at Max, who raised an eyebrow and said, “What?”

“You haven’t said ‘good coffee’ yet.”

She grinned. “Good coffee. Am I that predictable?”

“I count on it. It’s comforting. What are you doing up so early?”

Her smile widened, and she rolled her eyes. “Okay, to be honest, I was so excited that I don’t have to go to work at that cesspool anymore, I just couldn’t sleep most of the night. I mean, I know I need to find a new job, but for now…Well, I’m really looking forward to the lake.”