October Snow (38 page)

They got back to the house just before three, already worn out by Tyler’s seemingly boundless energy. Other than a second breakfast of pancakes at Marcia’s, he talked them into stopping at the Rochester bookstore–where Jo bought him four packs of Red Sox baseball cards–and then root beer floats at the candy shop.

“Aunt Maxine,” he said as they pulled up, “can I give Daisy her treat?”

She pulled it from her pocket. “Here ya go, kid.”

He leaped from the car the second it stopped moving, running full-tilt for the house, holding it in front of him and shouting, “Daizer! Come ‘n’ get it girl! Yo,
dawg
!”

They sat for a minute, staring straight ahead. “How tired are you?” Jo asked.

“Too beat to think of a smartass answer.”

“Yeah.”

“Better start dinner.”

“Yeah.” They sat for another minute, then Jo opened the door. “Okay, come on.”

Tyler ate two servings of macaroni and beef, then asked for a hot dog, then strawberries and whipped cream. “Holy cow, kid, does Dad ever
feed
you?” Max asked as he scraped the last of the whipped cream from the bowl.

“That’s funny, Aunt Maxine.” He grinned at her. “Dad says all the time,” he deepened the tone of his voice, mimicking Dave, “‘Wow, Ty-guy, the way you eat, I wonder if people think I never feed you.’” His laugh was a raucous, booming thing, an oddly adult sound for such a little boy, and it was infectious. The three of them were still laughing when Dave and Sam walked into the kitchen.

“Wow. Sounds like a party in here.”

“Mom!” He jumped from his chair, throwing his arms around her waist. “We had the
best time
today!” He gave his dad a quick hug, and started filling them in on the details.

Seeing the fatigue on the women’s faces, Dave interrupted him. “You know, I’ve been looking forward all day to feeding the seagulls. Let’s take the chips out back, and you can tell me all about it.”

Thank you
, Jo mouthed to him, and he winked.

She patted the seat next to her. “Sit down, Sammy. You have dinner yet?”

“We stopped at a place in Portsmouth.”

“Portsmouth? You came up on I-95?” The highway traveled a good distance east of Bedford, where Sam’s mother lived. “Did you go see your mother?”

She shook her head.

Max reached for her cigarettes. “What happened?”

“I’m not sure. We got on I-93, and when we got to the border, I said, ‘Let’s go to Portsmouth.’ Dave started to ask why, and I asked him to please just head for Portsmouth, and he did.” She looked confused. “I’m not going to tell her.”

Jo and Max glanced at each other. “Are you sure, honey?” Max asked.

“Yeah. I am.” She stood, looking out the window to the beach, where Dave and Tyler were sitting on the sand. Dave was nodding; Tyler was obviously still filling him in on his day. Watching them, she said, “Don’t get me wrong–I’m not angry at her. I just…” She sighed, and her voice took on a deep, sorrowful tone. “I can’t trust her, and especially not with those two,” she nodded toward the lake. “Remember when I said I felt like an orphan?” She turned to look at them, and they nodded.

“Well, I am. In practice, anyway–Mom isn’t someone I can have in my life as a mother, and I think it’s time that I accept it, hurt over it, and move on.” She was playing with the sapphire pendant she wore. “I can’t risk them. Or the baby, you know? I don’t have that right. I need to choose between them and my mother. At least for now.”

“That’s true,” Max said softly.

“Yeah, but it sucks.” She took her seat again.

“Maybe,” Jo said, “it’ll make room for your mother to finally make a few changes in her own life.” She patted her hand. “Whatever else, you’re about to marry Dave. Your mother made the choices that brought her to the place where she won’t be a part of it. You, like you said, just need to move on.”

“I’ll call her
after
the wedding. But I keep feeling these little twinges of guilt, cutting her out.”

“Don’t hide your joy, okay? This has been a long time coming. Just don’t let it go on too long.”

“Sammy, this is your time now,” Max added.

She thought about it. “I guess. Did you guys order the flowers?”

“Done,” Jo said. “We managed to get a DJ signed up, too. Not many weddings in these parts over Memorial Day.”

“Wow. I thought we’d wind up using your stereo. That’s amazing.”

“Your photographer’s going to have to be the guy from the camera shop in Rochester, though. I made a lot of calls–everyone’s either going on vacation, or they’re booked through June.”

“Hey, I’m not going to complain. You all are putting an entire wedding together, while I sit here and contemplate myself.”

“Max did the food first, by the way. You know how she is about food.”

“Second only to having a groom there,” Max said, and the mood lightened quickly as they discussed the details of the wedding. “The least they’ll do is catering for twelve, though. Hope that’s okay.”

“Tyler can take care of any overage.”

“No kidding.”

“Busy few days coming up,” Sam said. “You guys are the best. Are we wearing you out yet?”

“Tyler is,” Max laughed.

“I know. He’s got a lot of energy.” She held her hand up, turning the ring to the light, enjoying its sparkle. “I can’t wait for Friday.”

“It’ll go by fast,” Jo said.

It did, and it was a bittersweet few days: beyond the happiness of the wedding, there would be the sadness of Sam’s leaving afterward. Jo didn’t mention it, but she found herself hugging Sam several times a day.

Max talked about it openly. After a couple of days, Jo restricted the number of times she was allowed to say, “I’m gonna miss you, Bim,” to twice a day.

On Thursday, the three of them managed a picnic at one of the small, idyllic state parks nearby, while Dave took Tyler into Durham for a new suit. Dave’s sister, Emma, was bringing their parents, and they would be checking in to a bed and breakfast there; but Will, taking care of things in Boston while Dave was away, wouldn’t be arriving until just before the ceremony.

“I don’t believe we pulled this together in a week,” Sam said. They sat on the top of the picnic table, their feet on the bench, eating potato salad and ham sandwiches. The day was perfect, sunny and warm, with just enough of a gentle breeze to make it comfortable.

She reached into the cooler. “What do you guys want?”

“Iced tea.”

“Jo?”

“Same.”

She handed them their drinks. “You guys are quiet.”

“Oh,” Max said, “Sorry. Just thinking about tomorrow.”

“Me too.” Jo reclined on her elbows on the table, looking up at the drifting, fair-weather clouds. “Hey girls,” she pointed, “does that one–right there–look like Big Barbie’s butt?”

They laid back, the three of them studying the cloud she had pointed out. “Nah,” Max said. “Too small.”

They laughed, but it was awkward; then, Jo noticed that Sam had gone from laughter to crying.

“Hey, you,” she sat up, busily pushing the hair away from Sam’s face. “What’s this about?”

Max found the napkins in the picnic basket, handing several of them to Sam. “Tough few weeks, Bim.”

She took the napkins with a grateful, teary smile. “I need to tell you…” She took a deep, shaking breath. “Both of you, I need to say something.”

“No, Sammy, you don’t,” Max said. These were the moments she preferred to avoid.

Jo stared at her, irritated, then rubbed Sam’s back. “Sure, honey. Go ahead.”

She took another, calmer breath, giving her head a quick shake. “Hold on,” she said, and they waited.

It took her a minute, but she stopped crying. “Wow, I need to get a hold on my emotions.”

“Hormones,” Max quipped as she hopped back onto the table, and Sam folded her arms, aggravated.

Max grinned. “I’m getting in trouble with you guys today.”

“Yeah. I’m gonna whack you in a minute,” Sam said. “I’ve tried, for
days
now, to think of something to say, some way to tell you two what you mean to me. You know, it seems like we’ve known each other for so much longer than we have.”

“It does.” Max squirmed, looking at Jo; she was sitting with her head down, her hands clasped between her knees.

“Anyway, here it is: you two are the best friends I’ve ever known. I’m so grateful to you both, and I love you. Very much. And I wanted to say that.”

Jo looked up then. “The best answer to that, Samantha almost-Delaney,” she smiled lovingly, “is that any one of us can say the same thing.”

Max nodded. “That’s right.” She raised her bottle of tea. “Every happiness, sweetheart.”

“And it’s about time,” Jo added.

“Thanks, girls.”

The sun disappeared behind a massive cloud, and Jo looked up. “Now don’t tell me
that
doesn’t look like Big Barbie’s butt.”

When their laughter had wound down, Sam said, “No one can bust up a tender moment like our Josie can.”

“It’s my best thing.”

Her smile faded. “Jack thought you were some kind of a mega-bitch.”

“Well, that’s just
mean
. Especially as I think so much of him.”

“Wrong, too. She’s
all
kinds of a mega-bitch.” Max was leaning backwards on the table, reaching behind Jo for her purse. She nudged her, grinning. “By the way, he’s free now, ya know.”

“So’s a bad case of herpes.”

“Ouch.”

“You know,” Sam said, “Jack used to read self-help books. He’d actually say stuff like, ‘Samantha, you never support my
ouch
.’”

Jo twisted her face comically. “In a better world, I’d be surprised. And how, exactly, did you neglect his owies?”

“He never said. He was just always ouching, I guess.”

“What a loser,” Max mumbled.

Sam laid back on the table. “I totally hated him by the time I left. That night you guys came to get me–I said a lot of the stuff I said just to get at him.”

“It happens.”

“What gets at him? What kinds of things?” Jo asked.

“Mostly anything about how lousy he is in bed. That, and telling him he’s puny. And that he’s stupid.”

“And you let him have it with all that?”

She shook her head, eyes wide. “
Hell
, no. I did call him an idiot, but I didn’t dare go any further than that. What he did to me just from the word ‘idiot’ was bad enough. I thought he’d have a stroke.”

“Well,” she patted her on the leg, “you’re on your way to a much better place now.”

“Don’t I know it.”

“Keep in mind, Max said that if you don’t hurry up and marry Dave, she will.”

“Did not!”

Jo was grinning. “Did
too
, Maxine.”

Jo ducked, laughing as Max swiped at her head. “She’s lying, Sammy.”

“No kidding.” She watched them, playing like a couple of kids, and thought again that after life was set up in Boston, she would talk them into moving there.

Why wait
? She thought about it for another moment, then said, “Guys, after we’re settled in–I want you to move to Boston with us.”

It was an uncharacteristically blunt statement for Sam to make, and the two women stopped their horseplay to stare at her. “Really?” Max asked.

Jo chugged the remainder of her tea. “How’s about we’ll be there for the honeymoon instead.”

“Jo,” Sam waited until she looked at her, “I mean it. I’m not asking for an answer right now, just asking that you consider it. I don’t want this to be the end of us…”

“It isn’t, Sammy.”

Again, she was direct. “Yeah, it is.”

Jo didn’t answer.

“But we could make it into some kind of a beginning, if we want. I’m getting a whole new life. I want you guys to have that, too.”

Max was watching Jo carefully: she was withdrawing again. “We’ll talk about it, Bim,” she touched her arm. “
Won’t
we?”

She nodded. “Yeah. We will.” Sam looked skeptical, and Jo said, “We will, Sammy. I promise.”

Still unconvinced, she turned to Max. “Talk her into it.”

“Don’t worry about it. If I go, she’ll come with me–she can’t make it without me.” She nudged Jo with her elbow. “Right?”

“Don’t be so smug. How do you know I haven’t been conjugating with other bimbos?”

Max clutched at her heart. “Hey, Sammy, support this:
ouch
.”

“Oh, no…” She stood quickly, grabbing their things and tossing them into the basket. “On that note, let’s get going. Wedding tomorrow.”

.

chapter 17

S
AMANTHA
D
ELANEY
. T
ODAY
,
I’ll be his wife
.

“He’ll be my husband,” she said to her reflection. “My husband, Dave.” His name, still, sent a thrill through her.

She slipped out of her pink linen bathrobe, letting it fall to the floor as she gently lifted her dress from where it hung on the closet door. She stepped into the simple ivory sundress, pulling the straps over her shoulders, twirling and watching the full skirt flare and then settle around her legs. She took the peach lace shawl from its hook, draping it over her shoulders.

There was a gentle knock on the door. “Sammy?”

“It’s unlocked.”

She turned to face them as they came into the room.