October Snow (31 page)

“The basics. Bacon, eggs, white toast,” Jo said. “Got O.J.?”

“You bet. How many eggs?”

“Three. Over-easy.”

“We got blueberry cakes today. Blueberry
everything
. Gabe over there,” she jabbed her pen toward the cashier’s stand where Gabe stood, still forlorn, “ordered too much.” Doodling something on her notepad, she mumbled, “Guy don’t know business from a hole in the ground.” She looked back up at them then. “So, we need to get rid of the blueberries. Homemade blue topping on those cakes, by the way.”

“Bet Marcia was mad about that,” Max said, playfully serious.

Tina gave her an odd look, then jerked her head toward Gabe again. “That’s ‘Marcia’, over there,” she said. “Gabe got the diner in the divorce, and didn’t want to pay to change the license with the state.”

Max nodded. “Makes sense.”

Jo raised her eyebrows in an expression that said,
Really
? “Sure, Tina. I’ll have the pancakes, too.”

Pleased with herself, Tina turned to Max.

“Just make an exact copy of what she ordered.”

“Got it. Be ready in a few minutes.”

“Thanks.” As she walked away, Jo thought that her elastic-waist, tan polyester slacks were just…Depressing. She could picture the woman struggling to finish her day on feet that ached, wondering what had happened to her life, dragging herself home to nothing worth coming home to. Cracking a beer, counting her money, readying herself for another day of begging two-dollar tips.

That was me
.

Max slid a penny across the table, their old ritual from the restaurant: they would slip a penny to each other, especially during a busy time when one of them seemed to be lost inside her own head.

Jo grinned and took the penny. “This life seems years removed already.”

“I know.”

Sliding the penny back to her, Jo asked, “So why were you crying?”

Max shifted and tucked her leg under her, leaning her head against the back of the booth. “I was thinking about my mother.”

Jo settled in, listening closely. “And?”

“I want to know more about children who grow up in an abuser’s home. That alienation syndrome…”

“PAS, they call it.”

“Yeah. I thought it was whacked, kind of, when you told me about it. Like, this can’t be–I mean, I get it now, what happens to a battered mother in the eyes of her children.” She thought about it for a moment. “What these bastards can do to
any
woman, really, in front of anyone she cares about.”

She was talking very rapidly now. “But the idea that there’s an entire court process, that it works to
keep
women stuck, that there’s this entire
industry
that’s fashioned for people to get rich from tinkering with…Good grief, these are life-and-death issues…” She sighed, running her hands through her hair. “It’s just insanity, that’s all.”

“So what about your mom?”

“It got me to wondering, what if
she
had tried to leave? You said this ‘syndrome’ didn’t happen in the courts back then.”

“It slithered into the system about 15 years ago.”

“And that’s why you had to take Keith back, had to spend another chunk of your life that way?”

Jo nodded.

“Yet, my mom was trapped anyway, just by my father’s
reputation
, you know? No one would have believed her. Everyone thought he was perfect. The way he talked to her,
about
her…You know, I was thinking about it all night. Sometimes he would do this thing where he would visibly cringe when she came near him, make a real show of it, like she would hurt him somehow. And she had never even slammed a
door
, let alone raised a hand to him. But it left an impression, ‘cause he only did that in front of people who knew her. And in front of me. It was like some kind of a silent slander or something.”

“That’s one tactic, absolutely.”

“It trapped her. No one was going to help her, and I think she knew that. And me…” she swallowed hard, “I turned on her, too.” She looked at Jo nervously. “Hard to admit, but I did. I mean, I lived there, I
saw
what he did, and if I turned on her…? That had to make her completely hopeless.”

She paused then, as the unexpected insight into Jo’s situation became clear.

She gathered her thoughts and went on. “And now, I’m wondering what happened to her after they–
he
–kicked me out. See,” she leaned forward, “I just lumped them together in my head.
He
kicked me out. She cried, she begged him not to, she begged me to stay–which I couldn’t, of course–but I never again thought of her reaction that day. Not until now.”

“You thinking that you want to find out what happened to her?”

“Yeah.”

“How many years has it been?”

“Too many. I did call, twice over the years. Last time was on her sixty-fifth birthday. Dad answered both times I called…” Her voice drifted off, and she met Jo’s knowing gaze. “He told me she didn’t ever want to hear from me again.”

Jo raised her eyebrows, but said nothing.

“She never even knew that I called.” It was a simple declaration, from a knowledge that she realized had always been there.

Jo’s hand came over hers. “Probably not.”

Max ducked her head, then turned to look out the window. “You were right. Mothers don’t throw their kids under the bus, like the way he always portrayed her. I fell for it. Everyone did.” She picked up her cup, still staring out the window as she took a sip. “What a life she had. You know, when I was little I would listen to him screaming, and I’d picture a hero on a white horse, coming in and taking us away. He never let her
live
. He buried her alive. And people wonder, ‘why doesn’t she just leave?’” She looked back to Jo then, and her eyes flared. “Hell,
I
wondered that.”

“So now you’ll segue way into self-blame, and once you come out of that, you’ll actually put the blame where it belongs. And you need to do that, Max. So make it fast.”

“I don’t know if it can be done fast.”

“Sure it can. The one thing your father can’t control is the
truth
–that belongs to you. So hang on to it. The quicker you get real about who’s to blame, the quicker you’ll go call your mom.”

“Is it common to lose so many memories? I don’t know how I didn’t think of this stuff for so many years.”

“It is. I’ve seen it over and over again.” She patted her hand.

The waitress was approaching, several plates balanced in her hands and on her forearms. “Here ya go, girls.” She deftly served the meals, grimacing in pain as she bent. She glanced at them apologetically. “Glad we close at two. My back’s out again.”

“We know the drill.” Max took the last platter from her.

“You in the business?”

“Until very recently.”

Tina sighed. “You got out?
Stay
out of it, then. Go do something else. It’s not worth it.” She dropped their tab face-down on the table. “Just holler if you need anything else. Good enough?”

“You bet.”

They watched her shuffle away. “I’ll leave her a good tip,” Jo murmured.

“Do that.” Max was spooning blueberry topping onto her pancakes. “Mom’s birthday is June twenty-sixth.”

“Going to call her?”

Max nodded, her eyes widening with surprise as she took a bite. “Oh my gosh, Bim, try these pancakes. They’re fabulous.”

They spoke little as they ate, both of them more hungry than they had realized. As they downed the last of the coffee, which Jo commented was surprisingly good, Tina returned with the pot. “Fresh coffee. You up for it?”

“Not me.”

“Me neither.” As Tina turned to leave the table, Jo said, “Hold on.” She pulled a fifty dollar bill from her wallet, handing it over with the check. “All set.”

Tina stood looking at her, not comprehending. “Hon, that’s a fifty.”

“Thanks. You have a good day.”

“Wow. You sure?”

“Absolutely.”

“Well, then…” She fanned herself with the money. “I’d like to stay here and grovel in gratitude, but I’ll just say thanks and go to the kitchen to brag. Fair enough?”

They laughed. “Yes.” Jo waved her off. “See you soon.”

“
Anytime
, sweetie.” She scurried off, yelling, “Hey, Marcia! C’mere!”

“That was nice,” Max said as she stood.

Jo stretched as she slid from the booth. “I’m too full.”

“No swimming for a few hours, that’s for sure.”

“Let’s swing into Rochester real quick, get some steaks for the barbeque. And hot dogs for Tyler.”

Max glanced at her watch. “Wow. Almost eleven. Believe it or not, I forgot Sammy’s finally going to be here today.”

Tyler was quiet, sitting in the back seat with his head down, his Red Sox bear strapped in beside him. Sam and Dave glanced at each other, and Dave mouthed, “He’ll be okay.”

Sam turned to Tyler. “Hey Ty-guy, where’s your hat?”

He shrugged. “I think it’s in the trunk with my stuff.”

“You bring your wading boots?”

He nodded, then looked deliberately out the window, pretending to find something fascinating out there.

“Are you hungry yet?”

He shook his head slowly, not looking at her, blinking hard.

She sighed, and looked at Dave.

“I miss her already too, Ty,” Dave said softly.

It was enough to get him to speak. “Then why does she have to
go
?”

Dave started to answer, then changed his mind. “You can speak for yourself, Mom.”

“Thanks.” She laid her arm across the back of the front seat, considering it for a moment. She wanted to be as wonderful with Tyler as Dave was. “Well, I did promise the girls…you know, I suppose you could come with me, Ty, instead of just visiting every weekend.” She squeezed Dave’s hand.

Tyler looked up hopefully. “Really? And dad, too?”

Dave picked it up. “You know, I’d love to, but I have to be back at the office tomorrow. That reminds me, Mrs. Messina was going to watch you until Gram and Gramps get here in a few weeks. We’ll have to cancel, let her know you’re going to New Hampshire.”

“Oh. Think she’ll be disappointed?”

“Sure.” Sam reached back to touch his cheek. “She loves you, you know that.”

“Yeah.”

“I’m more worried that Gram and Gramps will be really disappointed. They haven’t seen you in a while.”

“Can’t they come to the lake too?”

“No, Ty,” Dave said. “They may go to the lake once or twice, but Gram doesn’t travel well. The trip to Boston will be difficult enough for her.”

“Well you know, Dave, he would get to see them a couple of times, anyway.”

“Yeah, maybe they’ll be okay with that.”

Tyler was scowling, thinking it over.

“We should have packed some things to keep you entertained,” Sam sighed. “It’s going to be a long summer.”

“Why?”

“Because there’s really nothing for you to do at Bow Lake, except the things you’ll do today–fish, swim, that kind of thing. When we have the time to watch you, that is.”

“Isn’t there a town there?”

“A little one.”

“No baseball and stuff?”

“On TV, yeah. I think.” She regarded him sympathetically. “I hope you don’t get too bored.”

“Darn,” Dave said, giving the steering wheel an exasperated thump. “I’ll have to get rid of those Sox tickets I got for all of us. Unless it’s okay with you if your grandparents and I go without you.” He looked in the rearview mirror. “Try to see us on TV. We’ll be right down the first base line.”

Tyler was squirming now. “Dad, you’ll be all
alone
until Gram and Gramps get there.”

Dave nodded sadly. “I sure will. It’s going to be lonely. I’ll miss you, Ty.”

“But Mom will be with her friends…”

Dave glanced sideways at Sam, fighting a smile.

“But
why
do you have to go at
all
, Mom?”

She took a deep breath. She needed to get this right. “I’m going to be a married person soon, Ty. Which means first, I need to plan a wedding, and I need my friends to help me.”

“Women take a long time with planning weddings, son.”

“I’m working here, Dave.”

“Sorry.”

“And second, I really want this last bit of time with the girls, because soon, I’ll be spending all my time taking care of you and Dad.” She leaned over to kiss Dave’s cheek. “And loving every minute of it.”

Tyler was deep in thought for a minute. Dave gave Sam an admiring look and a quick nod.

“Mom, would you be okay if I stayed with Dad?”

“Well, yes. As long as that’s where you think you should be…”

“Yeah, I think I better.”

“…and I get to see you both every weekend.”

“You will. Right, Dad?”

“Right.” He caught Tyler’s eyes again in the mirror. “Thanks, Ty. I would have had a hard time without you.”

“No problem, Dad.” His face scrunched up in a frown then. “Mom?”

“Yes, honey?”

“Don’t tell your girls I would be bored with them.”

“That’ll be our secret.”

Tyler nodded, satisfied. “Can we stop for some chicken nuggets?”

“You bet.” Dave noticed a roadsign with the universal logo on it, indicating restaurants one mile ahead. A few minutes later, he pulled into a parking lot; then he reached over, grabbing Sam and giving her a long kiss. “Love you.”