“I’m going to go in the tent and warm up,” she said. Mitch’s eyes never left his project. He pushed his goggles back down.
She blew him a kiss and walked around the circle of sculptors. It was impossible to tell what the sculptures would end up looking like, but some were taking shape. No one took notice of her.
April moved out into the Ice Festival, passing the casino booths. Violet’s parents were manning the St. John Bosco Catholic Church’s bake sale. Mitch would be bereft if she didn’t bring him back a cookie or two. She had to wait for a family of six to make their choices. After minutes of back and forth, all four kids went for the Rice Krispies Treats.
Dr. Wysocki nodded at April and smiled warmly.
“Hi, April,” Mrs. Wysocki said. “I didn’t see your mother today.”
“She’s still on her honeymoon,” April said. “She’s gathering recipes in Ireland right now.”
Mrs. Wysocki smiled. “In that case, I can’t wait until the next women’s fellowship potluck.”
“What’ll it be for you?” Dr. Wysocki asked.
“How about two snickerdoodles and a chocolate chip?” April said, pointing to the ones she wanted.
“On the house,” he said.
“Oh, no,” April said. “I can’t do that. It’s for charity.”
He pushed away her money, reached in his front pocket and put a five in the till. “That’ll cover it. We owe you.”
April thanked him and walked away. Violet clearly hadn’t told them what kind of reception she’d gotten at stamping.
As soon as she was out of sight, she poked her nose into the bag and inhaled. The snickerdoodles were calling to her. She’d just have one. Mitch wouldn’t miss what he didn’t know he had.
She pulled out the cookie and bit into it. Yum. She was about to indulge in another bite when her elbow was jostled. The cookie fell to the ground and crumbled. April swallowed a curse and sighed instead.
“Sorry, April.” Violet was at her side, looking furtive. “I don’t want my parents to see me. My mother thinks I ought to be helping her in that booth.”
She made herself even smaller and ducked behind a balloon seller. A pair of high-heeled leather boots crushed April’s cookie and ground it into the path. April cringed.
Still, she knew what it was like trying to avoid getting sucked into a parent’s projects. The older folks in this town did most of the volunteer work. Her generation was falling way behind in that department.
“Got a minute?” Violet said. She steered them into a space behind the eating tent. It was a good spot, out of the elements and the sight line of Violet’s mother. April could feel a little warmth coming through the wall.
Violet looked down at the ground, out into the crowd over April’s head and back to the ground again. April was getting nervous. Their spot was a little isolated. Was Violet waiting for someone else? She pulled out her cell phone, checking the time, but mostly making sure it was on.
Violet’s shoulders heaved, and April realized she was struggling to find the words she needed. She forgot her uneasiness and put her cell away. She waited for Violet to get the courage to say what she had to say.
“I want to thank you for taking me to your stamping group,” she said, eyes down. “You didn’t have to do that.”
April was surprised and felt a ribbon of warmth unfurl in her for this poor woman. Violet’s ravaged face and body gutted her. She was so far from the freckled-faced second-grader lisping through “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer” at the holiday pageant.
“Like a lightbulb,”
they’d shouted together.
“I enjoyed having you with me,” April said.
Violet seemed to be tearing up. “No one’s treated me nice since I came back. It was like everything I’d done in my life, college, buying my own place in the city, going to law school, none of it mattered.”
Her voice got quieter, and the hubbub around them snatched her words away. She pulled off one bright blue mitten and shook out a pack of cigarettes. April leaned in closer so she could hear. “All I wanted was to keep up with the twenty-five-year-olds in my class. It was so much harder than I thought.”
Violet shrank back against the tent, finding a space out of the wind to light up.
“What’s done is done,” April said, hearing her mother’s platitudes come out of her own mouth. It was comforting in a way, bringing Bonnie into her thoughts. “You’re putting all that behind you now.”
April put a hand on Violet’s shoulder, breathing in smoke. Violet swiped at her eyes with the other mitten.
“I wish it was that easy,” she said.
April said, “You’re not using, right? And you’re going to your support meetings?”
Violet nodded. A group of loud teen boys went by, showing their love by hip- and shoulder-checking each other. One crashed into Violet’s side, nearly knocking her over. He apologized and quickly moved off, telling his friends to jet.
Violet ground out her cigarette. She pulled April in for a hug. “Anyhow, I just wanted to say thanks for letting me stamp with you.”
“I hope you’ll come again,” April said.
“I’m not sure your friends would like that,” she said. Violet’s eyes shifted to the crowd and she squared her shoulders. “We’ll see.”
She walked off with a flip of her mitten.
April reached down for her phone. It was not even three o’clock. She still had an hour before Mitch needed her back. She took a step forward, but her path was blocked.
Mark and Deana stood in front of her. “We’ve been looking for you,” Mark said, mock sternly.
April put her phone away. The voice mail light was lit, but she had ignored it. They’d probably been calling her. It was hard to hear the phone ring in the din of the Ice Festival.
Deana said, “We’re going for a late lunch. Care to join us?”
“
Halupki
and sausage rolls,” Mark said, rubbing the front of his coat. “You know you want some.”
He rolled his eyes. Deana nudged him and joined April laughing. The bite of cookie had just whetted her appetite. The sandwich Charlotte had left for her was long gone, eaten before Mitch had picked her up.
“I’d love to, but I’d better wait for Mitch. We’ll eat later.”
“We just went by there, looking for you. He said you should eat with us. He was working furiously. I don’t think he wants to be distracted.”
“Me? A distraction?” April tried on a femme fatale voice but dropped it.
Mark said, “Us manly men, we need our alone time, too, you know.”
“For what? To do your nails?” April asked. “Nice try. I’m starving. If Mitch says it’s okay to eat, then I’ll eat.”
She snaked her arm under Deana’s and the other under Mark’s, and the three marched toward the entrance of the food tent.
“By the way,” Mark said, “the temperature is twenty-nine. Chance of flurries tonight.”
April punched his arm lightly. “Thanks, Weatherman. Thanks for reminding me how cold I am.”
The tent was warm. Not enough to take off their coats, but several large heaters were working hard to keep the frigid air comfortable. Planks of wood had been laid down between aisles of tables to serve as a sidewalk. The noise from the diners was loud. April communicated with Mark and Deana by hand signals.
They loaded their plates with carbs as if they were bears about to go into hibernation. Mark led them to a long communal table with three empty seats. They greeted the people around them and tucked in.
April was mopping her plate with bread when she looked up to see an unexpected familiar face.
Tina Adama stood in front of them. “Mind if I sit?”
Deana looked at April, clearly questioning. Mark jumped up and pulled out the bench he’d been sharing with April. He kept his hand on it so she wouldn’t tip and fall off.
“I warmed it up,” he said, indicating that Tina should sit in his place. He took his plate and moved to the opposite side next to Deana. She took his hand in hers. They both looked to April for answers.
Tina settled on the bench, unbuttoning her coat and taking off her gloves. She set them on the table and unwound her plaid chenille scarf.
April took in a breath. She hadn’t told them about Tina’s existence. She’d been hoping to tell Mary Lou first.
“Deana, Mark, this is Tina Adama.” She leaned across the table to avoid revealing her identity to everyone around them. She knew she could count on them for discretion. “J.B.’s girlfriend.”
Mark’s eyes went wide. Deana tightened her grip on her husband’s hand but otherwise didn’t flinch. April admired her ability to look unsurprised. Tina reached across to shake hands.
“We’re so sorry for your loss,” Deana said. Mark nodded and shook her hand.
April turned to Tina. “What are you doing here?”
“I saw a flyer for the festival at the drugstore. I knew that Peter Rosen was one of the judges.” She saw the question in April’s eye. “What? They’ve got a website you know, Rosen Realty. It’s very informative.”
April had seen the website. Plenty of pictures of Peter and Mary Lou, Kit and her brother. Even the twins. Information about their civic duties, their volunteer work. It was all laid out there in an effort to entice the buyers and sellers of homes. Everything a person would want to know about a family.
“I thought there was a chance I could meet Jimmy’s people,” she said, her eyes straying down. She settled a hand on the gentle curve of her stomach. April glanced at Deana. It wasn’t easy to tell under the bumpy contours of Tina’s down coat that Tina was pregnant, but something in the way her hand moved told the story. Tina could not stop touching herself.
Deana gave April a sharp look. April nodded slightly. Deana’s eyes widened. Death of a loved one, pregnancy, all Deana’s buttons were being pushed right now. She snuggled in closer to her husband. April knew she was hurting.
“I couldn’t stand it if he was buried without me,” Tina said, sounding more macabre than she’d intended.
Deana straightened. This was something she could help with. Mark looked down at his wife as if he knew what she was thinking. They believed in the value of rituals surrounding the dead. They also knew the complications of families.
Tina shrunk down in her seat, swallowed by the wide quilted collar of her coat. Her face was even rounder than April remembered. The bulky coat made her look little and vulnerable.
“I haven’t had a chance to tell the family about you,” April said. “They might not be all that thrilled to meet you.”
“She’s carrying his child,” Deana said loudly. April looked at her friend, knowing she’d decided to help Tina. Once she’d made up her mind, nothing stopped her, but she didn’t know about April’s doubts.
“I know that but . . .” April began. She lowered her voice.
Deana cut her off. “What is it you’d like to have happen?” she said to Tina.
Tina sat up straighter. Her hand clutched her stomach as she looked at Deana hopefully. “Just to be there. If they don’t want to meet me, I won’t make trouble. I just need to be present.”
“Let’s call Mary Lou right now. She’s here somewhere. I’m sure she’d be glad to meet you.”
April had to stop this. She wasn’t sure Tina was who she said she was.
She put her hand over Deana’s phone. “Why don’t we just let Tina know when the service is? I’ll make sure she gets to it. What do you think, Tina? I can even pick you up.”
Tina considered.
Deana looked to Mark. He’d caught his breath through his teeth. “Looks like you won’t need the phone,” he said.
The three women followed his gaze. Mary Lou and Peter were making their way into the tent. In two more steps, they’d see them.
April stared at the plate in front of her, now empty except for her dirty plastic silverware. A lull in the conversations around them brought quiet. April heard Mary Lou call out to Deana and Mark.
“Peter has to eat and run,” she cried, pointing at the buffet. She steered her husband toward the goodies. Her hand gestures made it apparent she’d seen the two empty seats next to Deana and Mark and wanted them saved.
April saw Violet and Paula seated on the other side of the tent, watching them.
Mary Lou started toward them, obviously not seeing April. Or ignoring her. And not knowing who Tina was. April felt her scalp turn hot despite the cold. This wasn’t going to end well.
Tina stood up from the bench, nearly dumping April in the process. Her presence had been anchoring one end. April caught herself and stood, just as Mary Lou arrived.
“Oh,” Mary Lou said, spotting April. She looked at Deana as if she was disappointed in her. She adjusted the brim of her floppy wool hat. April couldn’t see her face very well now.
Tina took a step forward. April grabbed the back of her coat, but Tina twisted away. She’d obviously recognized Mary Lou.
“Hi, I’m Tina Adama. Your brother and I were involved.”
Mary Lou’s face had gone pale. Tina put out her hand.
“I’m happy to meet you,” she said. “Jimmy talked about you all the time.”
“Jimmy?” Mary Lou said stupidly. That was so unlike her, April knew just how flummoxed she was by Tina’s presence.
“J.B.,” April said. “Tina knew him as Jimmy.”
Mary Lou recovered a bit, color returning to her cheeks. “And
you
knew this how?”
This was the woman April knew. Never without a come-back. April couldn’t tell her that she’d been to Mountain Top twice in the last week, seen where J.B. lived.
“She’s a pharmacist,” she said, hoping to focus the attention back on Tina.
“Not a drug addict?” Mary Lou said. Her face said she didn’t believe it. “A fellow alcoholic?”
Tina’s mouth fell open. “Your brother was clean and sober when he lived with me,” Tina said, her voice tight. Tina stepped around the bench and moved closer to Mary Lou.
The tinny music that had been playing stopped. The crowd noise died down some. The Ice Festival announcer came on to say that the sculptors had ten minutes to finish. He encouraged spectators to gather round for the judging. April had to be at Mitch’s station before that time was up or they would be disqualified. It would take her half that time to get over there.