October Snow (49 page)

“You know, I lost my way for a while…”

Matt rolled his eyes.

“…and in a sense, I took you down with me,” John said. “I left you and Mom behind. But you aren’t alone anymore.”

He still didn’t respond. He stood there, struggling to catch his breath, glaring at his brother. Needing something more.

John reached his hand out, and Matt slapped it away.

“Why are you even
around
, John? Where the hell were you when she needed you the most? When
I
needed you…” He turned his back to him.

“I know.”

“So
why now
? Why have you been coming around lately?” He turned to face him again. “
Guilt
?” He shoved him, and John stumbled backward a few feet. “You think that’s any better than not having you around at all? It’s
worse
.” Matt’s face was racked with pain as the thought reached him: “It’s what I did to
her
.”

John knew his suffering. “You’re right. I’m guilty, but that’s not why I’m here.”

He covered his head with his arms, pacing. “I don’t know what
happened
.”

“Me neither. But we can figure it out together, Matt.”

He shook his head. “
Why bother
?” He stopped then, staring at John, his eyes filled with confusion.

John thought he saw, just for a moment, the little brother he had helped raise when his father would not. The brother he had known when, just the two of them–Matty and Johnny–they had made a pact to always be there for each other. He wanted him back, the brother he had loved then. And still did. John knew that his brother wasn’t going to make it without him–but he also knew that without Matt, he wasn’t likely to survive well, either.

“I’m here because I love you.”

Matt shook his head again, but John could see the walls coming down.

“I broke my promise. I let you down. I let Mom down, too, and I left
you
with that.”

Matt was clearing his throat, blinking fast.

“And I’m so sorry, Matty.” He opened his arms to him. His voice cracked as he said, “I’m so sorry…”

Matt’s agonized groan became a sob as he threw his arms around his big brother. Finally, after all of the years of the pain they had shared, years that had ended so tragically, they began to grieve their losses together.

John looked up, hoping with everything in him that she was watching.

Alison Fuller was finishing the reading of Jo’s will. “So you see, with her assets in a trust, and the insurance policy not included in her will, you avoid probate.” She closed the folder. “Any questions?”

No one spoke.

“Your mother was a wonderful woman.” She smiled gently at the boys, sitting across from her with their heads down. “She provided very well for you, but more than that, she loved you both very, very much.”

“We know that,” Matt whispered. He glanced at John, sitting motionless, stunned by the fact that their mother had paid for years on a life insurance policy while she lived in a dump. She had left them each a small fortune.

“She didn’t want you two to be–what was the exact term she used? ‘Beholden to anyone’it was, although I can’t tell you what she meant by that. I do know that it was extremely important to her, though.”

He thought of his father. “We know what she meant,” John said.

She smiled again, seeming genuinely fond of their mother. “She was one of the more interesting people I’ve known.” She looked over to where Max stood looking out the window. “Miss Allen, do you have any questions?”

Yeah. Lots
.

“Not at the moment.”

“You meant a great deal to her, you know.”

“Obviously,” she said. Jo had given her the entirety of what was left of her divorce settlement: over a quarter of a million dollars. That, plus she and the boys had each been given a sealed envelope with a letter inside, to be read upon her death.

“From what I understand, the case against…” Alison was hesitant to say his name. “The case against Jack Seever is in the process of resolution, maybe close to finalized by now.” She cleared her throat. “Check with the District Attorney to be sure, but I believe you can start the final disposition of her belongings.”

Max nodded.

“We thought we would give it all to charity, Maxine,” John said, looking to Matt for his agreement.

“Yeah. She would have wanted that.”

“Except her precious box,” John added. “We’d like to have that.”

“She didn’t specify where–or if–to scatter her ashes, though. She just states that it’s at your discretion, Miss Allen. Did she ever give you instructions on that?”

“No, but I know exactly where she wants to be.”

They were quiet for a minute.

“Then I think we’re done here,” Alison said. She shook their hands, reminded them to call at any time with questions, and it was over.

“Maxine? Can we ask you something?” Matt asked as they walked to their cars.

“Sure, honey.”

They stopped at the corner where they would need to head in different directions, and Matt looked to John.

He cleared his throat. “I’m just going to ask it straight out.”

Max’s smile was genuine, for the first time in weeks. “You sound like your mom.”

He seemed to like the idea. “Thanks.”

“What’s on your mind?”

“What was she thinking about us before she died?”

She saw the need in their eyes–and for Jo’s sake, she decided to lie.

“She was a strong woman, kids. She knew that you loved her, but that you were being influenced…”

“She told you?”

“Of course she did, Matt. I was her best friend, and she was concerned for you both.”

“The last things I said to her were pretty bad…”

“They were. And she was
worried
for you. But her
anger
was toward your dad and Shelly.” She took a deep breath. “But never for a moment did she think that you two wouldn’t come around. To her,
and
to each other.” She smiled again. “Seems like she was right.”

The brothers grinned at each other.

She ended with the truth: “But more than anything else, the thing that you guys need to take with you is the fact that she loved you both more than anything else on earth.”

She saw the relief and the gratitude in their eyes. She knew it would take time, probably a lot of it, but they would become unburdened someday. As they hugged her, and thanked her repeatedly, she knew that Jo would have approved.

Max waited in the small traffic jam that blocked the turn to the apartment building. One of Jo’s favorite songs came on the radio, about a loved one slipping away, and the singer was helpless to stop her from leaving. She turned it off immediately.

“I knew you were trying to say goodbye, and I couldn’t stop you.”

She caught her own eyes in the rearview mirror, struck by what she saw there: for the briefest moment, she recognized the same distant, shuttered expression that Jo had so often worn.

She quickly looked away. “I wish I could have been your hero,” she whispered.

Then something turned inside her, telling her she was heading down a treacherous path in her own mind.

I love you, Jo. I admired so many things about you. Almost everything.

She fought herself, not wanting to think the rest of it. It came anyway.

But I don’t want to wind up like you. I don’t want to starve to death, all alone on some island inside my own head. Hopeless.

She felt guilty, caught up in a truth that she hated herself for. She was quite sure that Jo hadn’t wanted to be where she ended up, either–that she would have saved herself, if she could have done so. She just couldn’t.

I think I lost you before we ever met
.

Sam called as she pulled her car into its spot.

“Hi.”

“Hi, Max. I just got my phone back.”

“Where was it?”

“The cops found her purse at the bar. I guess she forgot it there. My phone was inside it.” She paused. “How are you?”

“I miss you, Sammy.” Her throat was tight, and her voice came out thick, straining with unexpressed grief. She’d had no one to talk to, not since the night Jo died. All she had were things to get done, and her emotions were eating her alive. “I just miss you.”

“Then get over here.”

She sat very still for a moment, not understanding; then she quickly got out of her car, looking around anxiously.

Sam was sitting on the porch.

“I thought you might need me.” She closed her phone, and they stared quietly at each other for a moment.

“Sammy,” she whispered.

As she ran to where Sam met her on the sidewalk, she thought it again:

I just don’t want to wind up like you, Jo.

Her tears started as she thought of what Jo would have said.

Good. Then don’t wind up like me.

Sam opened her arms, and they held on to each other until Max cried herself out.

.

chapter 22

M
ATT AND
J
OHN
agreed that they should have the small gathering for their mother at the beach house. They wanted to see where she spent her last days, and it was closer to the place where Max would scatter her ashes: the field, across from the place where they sat and ate ice cream, where they saw the deer. The place where she told Max she could find God.

The boys arrived first, and Max showed them around until Sam and Dave got there. Will arrived soon after. Grady stopped by, as did Lettie, and the people from Marcia’s–but they all graciously left quickly, to leave the small group of her loved ones to mourn privately. The boys seemed tight with each other, Max thought. She decided that bitterness would serve no purpose, as she mulled over what it took to bring them together.

They drove to the field in Rochester like a small caravan, each of them saying silent goodbyes–something which Jo had asked for in her will–as Max scattered what was left of her at the spot where the deer had wandered gently in the field.

The boys left shortly after, taking everyone’s phone numbers and making sure they would not lose track of each other. They obviously meant it, and Max promised to check on them regularly.

When they were gone, she stood at the edge of the field, missing her. It was a beautiful, summery day–the kind Jo would have been eager to run out into. It had been a lovely spring. Max thought it a shame that Jo missed that day, and that she would miss all of the summers ahead, and that the memories Max created for the rest of her life would be lived without her.

“Hey.” Dave was at her side.

She shaded her eyes as she looked up at him.

“We want you to come to Boston with us. As soon as possible.”

“Sammy mentioned it again last week.”

“And?”

“It might do you some good.” Will was standing on her other side. “At least, try it for the rest of the summer.”

Max looked around. “Where’s Sammy? You need to cover the back, too.”

Dave put his arm around her. “Feeling ganged up on, huh?”

“It’s okay.”

“She’s calling Mrs. Messina, checking on Tyler.”

“How’s he doing?”

“Better. He doesn’t have any details, just knows that…” He paused. “That she’s gone.”

She nodded. “He’s a tough kid. He’ll get through it.”

“What are you thinking about Boston?” Will persisted.

“Know what, guys? I’ll be there as soon as I wrap things up here.”

“Good,” Dave said. She laid her head on his shoulder, and he gave her a squeeze. “I’m so glad, Max.”

“She said ‘yes?’” Sam was there then, reaching for her hand.

“I did.”

“Soon?”

“A few days. I need to finish up things here.”

They gazed out at the field together, then Will said, “I’m heading back to Boston.” He looked down at Max, then gave her a tentative kiss on the cheek. “See you soon.”

“We need to get going too,” Sam said. “You coming, Max?”

“In a bit.”

“Hey.” She waited until Max met her eyes. “I’ll call you tonight.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll be in the car,” she said, reaching up to kiss Dave.

“Be right there.”

Max was still looking out at the field. After a minute, she said, “The woman was a Rubik’s Cube, Dave. You had to get things just-so to understand her. And even then, just when you thought you were almost there, you’d find another part that simply didn’t fit.”