October Snow (18 page)

“Hi, Dave.”

“Mom!” Tyler was almost bursting with excitement, wriggling from her arms. “
Guess what
?”

She gave Dave a brief, amused look. “
What
?” she asked playfully.

“Dad went to Fenway today and he got us
baseball
tickets!”

“He
did
?”

He nodded hard, talking so fast it was hard to understand him. “And he says, Dad says, if
you
says it’s okay then we can go to the
Yankees
game! The
Yankees
game!
Mom
!” He was holding his hands palms-up, earnestly trying to convey the importance of the situation.

Sam was laughing in delight at her little boy’s excitement. “My
goodness
, Tyler, that’s just wonderful. Of course you can go.”

“
Yes!”
he shrieked, hugging her around the waist.

“Hey, don’t break your mom,” Dave said, tousling his hair.

“When’s the game?”

“Next Sunday!” Tyler was jumping up and down, hitting the palm of his hand with his fist. “
Yes
!”

Sam looked up at Dave, confused and a little upset. “
Next
Sunday?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he said. He reached into his back pocket, fanning out three tickets. “We thought maybe we could all spend Mother’s Day together.”

“Oh.” She stared at the tickets. “Dave, I…” she faltered.

“…would love to?” he finished for her.

“Dad says maybe you’d want to just stay the whole week here, and we’ll go everywhere and do all sorts of stuff…Like…What’ll we do, Dad? I forgot.” He looked up at his father, who was still watching Sam.

“What do you think, Sammy?”

“Well, how can I possibly say no?” She glanced pointedly at Tyler, then back at Dave.

“I thought of that. No pressure. If you don’t want to, I can exchange these tickets with a guy at the office for the Saturday afternoon game, and have Tyler back to you by Saturday night.”

“Mom,
please
…” His little hands were clasped together under his chin.

“I…gosh, guys, I didn’t even bring a toothbrush…”

“Then we’ll just go get you what you need. Maybe some things that you don’t need. I have lots of room here–we can have a Mother’s Day week.”

She saw that he was actually nervous, waiting for her answer, and she couldn’t help but smile.

“Is that a ‘yes’?”

She nodded. “Let me call the girls.”

It was unusual, that Maxine’s door was locked. Jo had to knock a couple of times before she opened it.

“Hey, you. Let’s eat.” She stepped out, looking Jo up and down. “You know, you should fix up more often.”

“Nah. It gets too boring too fast. I was just in a weird mood today.”

“Where do you want to go?”

“Jody’s?”

“Sounds good. Hey, let’s walk. It’s gorgeous out.”

“That’s going to take fifteen minutes. I’m famished.”

“Oh, come on. It’ll be good for us.” She tugged playfully on Jo’s hair. “Keep you looking young.”

She waved her off. “Yeah, whatever.”

Outside, Jo picked up a forsythia stem that had fallen to the pavement, holding it up to the sunlight, enjoying the translucency of its petals. “You get a call from Sammy?”

“Yup. Pretty cool.”

“Think they’ll finally get back together this time?”

“They may as well.”

They walked in silence for a minute.

“I like growing older,” Jo mused.

Max laughed. “Now there’s a shift in topic.”

“I like all the things I’ll never have to do again.”

“Uh huh. Like what?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Date. Look for a partner. Worry about turning forty. Or fifty. Or a career. Sex.”

Max hooted, turning to look at her. “You know that people who aren’t that well acquainted with you think you’re gay.”

“Yeah, and they think I’m gay for
you
.”

She grinned. “Aren’t you?”

“Told you, Sammy’s my dream girl.”

Max snorted. “Always the comeback.” She watched a seagull fly in a lazy circle, landing on a lamppost. “Not so many hard decisions to make.”

Jo looked over at her, shaking her head. “No, it’s more like there’s no reason to have to
make
any decisions. I already did that, you know? And now, at this point, I live out the results.”

Max hated it when she talked like that. “You sound like it’s all over.”

“Well, the foundation is set.” She smiled a greeting at a young woman, whom she recognized as a tenant at their apartment house. “Now, I’m on a course.”

Max thought that there were many times, especially lately, when Jo seemed to be trying to say something, but just couldn’t find her way through her own philosophical wanderings to the truth. She thought again of the beach house. “Get any packing done?”

“Some. I’m not sure what to take.” They were almost to the diner. “Get whatever you want, okay?”

“Actually, Bim, this one’s on me. I’m getting a freeloader complex these days.”

“Great. Then I’m about to order a big, fat breakfast.”

There was an open booth just to the right of the entry, and they slid into it as a waitress tossed down the wraps of silverware. “Be right back, ladies,” she said cheerfully. “Coffees?”

“Thanks.” Max watched her bustle away. “It’s the weirdest thing, not having to run around getting ready for work.”

“I love it.” The fifties-style metal table was designed with a laminate top, placed over a collage of ads for local businesses. Jo was reading it, like she had done a hundred times before. “So what are you gonna do next?”

Max shrugged. “I’ll think about it later.”

“Good.” She smiled. “Lots of time to do that.”

“Although,” Max went on, “I was looking into financial aid last night.”

“College? Really?”

“Don’t look so surprised. Hey, I know some stuff.”

The coffee arrived, with the waitress again promising to be right back. Max rolled her eyes and said, “I’m not going back to a job like this, that’s for sure.”

“What would you go into?”

“I’d finish my Theology degree, and my minor in Philosophy.”

Jo sipped her coffee, surprised by a sudden feeling of longing. “Highbrow stuff, Bim.”

“Yeah. But I was pulling a three-point-eight back in the day.”

“What would you do after? Teach?”

She shook her head. “Law school.” She glanced at Jo, gauging her reaction, but unable to discern one.

The waitress reappeared, and they gave her their orders. Max watched her retreating back, thinking she walked as if her feet hurt. “What about you?” she asked.

“No plans. None at all.”

“Well, yet, you mean.”

“Yeah. Yet.”

“Taking some of that lovely time we have, huh?”

Jo paused, considering it. “I do want to wing it for a while. Why law school?”

“I’m not sure I can explain it well.” She laughed bitterly. “No, that’s a lie. I just don’t want to be too open about it.” She looked apologetically at Jo.

“Hey, you have the right.”

“I know.” She sighed, playing with the sugar caddy. “It’s for my mother, actually. Plus,” she grinned, “I want to remain poor for my entire life, so I thought I’d go into Family Court.”

“Ah, yes.” Jo gave her a knowing look. “Taking the edge off with a joke.”

Her smile faded. “I suppose.”

“Your mom wanted you to be a lawyer?”

“
Hell
, no. Court was Demonville to Christian fundamentalists. Good Christian people don’t sue.”

“I know the verses. So why for your mother, then?”

“Did I say that?”

“Yeah, you did. Right before the believers-don’t-sue comment.”

“I got into it with her once about that. Told her that the Bible also says to be at peace with all people, wherever it’s up to
you
.” She smirked, putting her cup on the edge of the table for a refill. “You’da thought I had renounced or something.”

Jo decided not to ask about her mother again. “Why?”

“Well, my dad didn’t speak to me for two days. Looked at me like I was possessed or something.” She grew distant then. “You know, one of the creepiest, most maddening feelings is when someone’s praying for you to be rescued from Satan’s grip, when you aren’t in it.”

“Your dad? I thought the argument was with your mom.”

She was confused for a second. “Well, he always got involved.”

Jo hated the pain on her friend’s face, still apparent all these years later. After a few quiet moments, she asked, “Did they ever come around to your point of view? At all?”

“Nah. They just let it slide then.” Her sigh was shallow, as though her chest hurt. “I never argued with her again. Never told her much of
anything
I was thinking, until the day they kicked me out.”

“What happened then?”

“Oh, man–
that
was something. You sure you want to hear it?”

“If you want to tell it.”

The waitress came with their meals and the coffeepot. “Anything else I can get you ladies?”

“All set, thanks.” Jo was peering over her shoulder, at a table just behind her. “Hey, that’s Maggie.”

Max half-rose from her seat, turning to look. “Mags! Hey, how’s it going?”

The slight, sixty-year-old woman was a server at The Berry Crate, and one of the few of whom Barb was afraid: Maggie, having been there for thirteen years–well before Barb arrived–treated her very much like a less-favored daughter, and Barb deferred to her like she might a mother.

Maggie turned around to look, and after a moment, broke into a smile. “Well,
hello
, you two. I had a hard time recognizing you in your civvies.” She excused herself from the elderly man she was with, and came over to give them each a lingering hug. “Oh, I miss you girls. What have you been up to?” She slid in beside Max, draping her arm over the back of the booth behind her.

“Resting up,” Max said. “It was a long few years there.”

“Where are you going to be working?”

“We aren’t. Not yet, anyway.”

“We’re taking a vacation,” Jo added.

“Excellent. You both deserve it. And what did I hear about Samantha? She quit today?” Before either could answer, Maggie went on. “Have you heard about that husband of hers?”

Confused, Max said, “You mean that they…”

“He was in the restaurant just this morning. Attacked Barbara.”

“
Attacked
her?”

“Oh, come on, Maggie. Said who?”

“I was there, Maxine. I opened the store today. It happened just before I clocked out.”

“
What
happened?”

Maggie gave them the long narrative of the episode, including her fear that Jack might have been armed, and could have therefore created a hostage situation–which she was far too old to endure–and ending with, “…and there I was, sitting in my car, watching the police shove him into the back seat.” She was nibbling on a piece of toast she had taken from Jo’s plate. Maggie was famous at the restaurant for swiping food. “He was absolutely
furious
, struggling with the police, screaming and kicking at the back seat windows, just completely out of control.”

That part, Jo believed. “So he’s in jail right now.”

“Oh, yes, I would imagine so. And I saw him head-butt one of the officers, so he’s going to have to answer for that, too. And this being Sunday, well, I don’t see how he’ll be getting out in the next day or two, that’s for sure.” Maggie’s date was vying for her attention, pointing to his wristwatch. “Oh, goodness, how I can talk!” She held up her index finger to her date. “I have to get back to Richard,” she said, winking at him. “Nice looking, for a man his age.”

“Nice hair, too.”

Max nudged her. “Got all his teeth, Mags?”

“Yup, all the original equipment is there, girls.” They laughed as she got up, planting a kiss on Max’s head, then hugging Jo again. “You’ll be in touch, right?”

They nodded. “You take care, honey. See you soon.” Jo handed her the rest of the piece of toast. “Don’t forget this.”

“Thanks, dear.” Maggie put it between her teeth, patted her on the head, and returned to her table.

Max was staring at Jo, wide-eyed. “Sammy quit…?”

“Guess she’s coming with? I don’t know.”

“And Jack got himself de-
tained
.”

“Yup. Jack’s in jail. Wow.”

Max smiled broadly. “Poor guy.”

“Yeah.” She was staring, distracted, out the picture window behind Max.

“You’re thinking…”

“I’m going to give the downtown precinct a call. See if Joey Derosa’s there.”

“Who’s Joey Derosa?”

“A cop I worked with a lot, back when…I knew him a few years ago.” She took a few more bites of her omelet and downed the last of her coffee. “I’ll be outside.”

Max was a little relieved that they hadn’t gone any farther into the story about her mother. She had already revealed more than she had ever thought she would. She paid the bill, and then found Jo on one of the benches at the small park across the street.

“…thanks, Joey…I will, no doubt…Take care.”

“What’s going on?”

She flipped the phone shut, smiling faintly for a moment. “I asked him to keep me posted on anything he finds out about Jack’s movements over the next few weeks. He said he’d have someone on him here and there, whenever he has the manpower.” She slid the phone into her pocket. “Won’t be too often, but he’ll do what he can.”