October Snow

by Jenna Brooks

  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

  SAMANTHA DELANEY. TODAY, 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.

  Max whistled softly.

  “You are simply, absolutely
beautiful,” Jo said.

  “Sammy…Wow.”

  She smiled, fluffing her hair around her shoulders. “Thanks, girls.” She turned back to the mirror, watching the skirt settle around her again. “I’m really glad you talked me into this one.”

  Jo laid her bouquet of peach roses and yellow peonies on the bed. “The flowers just came.”

  “Oh, that reminds me…” Sam reached under her bed, pulling out a small circle of silk roses, the same colors as her bouquet. She handed it to Jo. “Here you go.”

  “What’s this?”

  “It’s for Daisy. To wear around her neck.”

  She was delighted, turning it over in her hands, fluffing the flowers. “Where on earth did you get this?”

  “Dave and I got it when we were in Boston.” As Jo hugged her, she said, “Hey, we can’t have a wedding without the Daizer.”

  “I love it. Thank you.”

  “Believe me, after all you guys did for us this week, it’s nothing. At all.” She looked them up and down. “Good grief, you two just don’t age, do you?” They each wore a strapless sheath, which hung just to the knee: Jo in pale peach, and Max in pastel yellow. Their blonde hair was done loose and casual. “Where are your flowers?”

  “In the kitchen. They’re gorgeous.”

  Daisy wandered in, looking around. “Hey, here’s the flower dog,” Max said, slipping the flowers over Daisy’s head.

  “Oh my gosh, she looks so cute.” Sam reached down to stroke her back. “Make sure we get a picture of her.”

  Daisy looked mournfully to Jo. “I’ll let her wait until the wedding.” She slipped the collar off, laying it on the bed as Daisy waited to be lifted. “Take a nap, baby.”

  Max was looking out the window at the gray sky, and the light fog over the lake. “Anyone catch a weather report?”

  “It’s supposed to clear up by noon,” Jo said. She held one closed fist toward each of them.

  “What? You want a fist bump?” Max laughed.

  She shook her head. “Open your hands, both of you.”

  They looked at each other curiously, and did as she asked.

  “This is for you guys. Let’s never forget this day.” She dropped a pair of diamond teardrop earrings into each of their hands. “Love you both.”

  They stared at their gifts, stunned. Finally, Max spoke. “Jo…These are…They’re just exquisite.” She looked up at her. “When did you get these?”

  “Dave picked them up for me in Boston. I ordered them last week.” She smiled hopefully. “Are you going to put them on?” She glanced at Sam then. “Oh, no–Sammy, no, don’t cry. Your makeup’s perfect.”

  She was grabbing for tissues, dabbing at the corners of her eyes. “I don’t know what to say, Jo.”

  “Don’t say anything. Just let me see you in them.”

  Sam and Max shared the vanity mirror, and a minute later, turned to face Jo. The diamonds caught even the dim lighting in the room, with a brilliant sparkle that Jo thought was fitting for the two best friends she had ever known.

  She said as much, and then Max sat on the bed, looking discouraged. “Well, I have something for you girls, too…” She sighed. “Nothing like this, though.” She got up and looked in the mirror again. “I feel kind of bad.”

  “Oh no, you don’t,” Jo said. “What is it?”

  “Yeah, Bim. I want my present,” Sam grinned.

  “Be right back.” She went across the hallway, retrieving two small boxes wrapped in white tissue paper and tied with gold ribbon. She held them out, her eyes down. “Here.”

  They opened them in unison. Sam caught her breath, looking wide-eyed at Max, the tears flowing again.

  Jo stared at the framed picture of the three of them, the one Bobby had taken a few months earlier, during the holidays. They stood in front of the Christmas tree at Barley’s, their arms around each other, laughing as they raised their wine glasses in a toast to their friendship.

  “Oh, Maxine,” she murmured.

  Sam was trying unsuccessfully to stem her tears. “I just love it, Max. Thank you so much.” She hugged her hard. “I love it,” she said again.

  “It’s not much.”

  Jo wrapped her arms around the two of them. “It’s everything.”

  “I’ll keep it forever,” Sam said.

  They stood that way for a few moments, then Max said, “We have to patch your face up, Sammy. You’re a mess.”

  She put the picture on the table by the bed. “I swear, I’m the luckiest woman on earth.”

  “Like I told Dave, he’s the lucky one,” Jo said, and Sam smiled gratefully at her. “You’re heading straight to Maine after the wedding, right?”

  Sam nodded. “For a few days of camping, outside Orono.”

  “Why’d you choose that? I would have gone to an island someplace.” She was looking through the vanity for mascara. “Max, where would you have gone?”

  Max didn’t answer.

  “Max?”

  She looked up, startled. “Sorry. I was thinking about something.”

  “Never mind.”

  Sam said, “Dave wanted to go to New York City. I’m the one who wanted to rough it in the Great Woods for a few days.”

  Max suddenly remembered something. “Hey, we don’t have anything to throw at you and Dave when you leave, do we?”

  “Do you really need to throw rice at us?”

  “Yuck, rice.” Jo said. “It’s bad for the birds. They can’t digest it.”

  “Want me to run to Lettie’s and grab something?”

  “No.”

  “Yes,” Jo insisted. “Just not white rice, okay?”

  “Okay. Back in a bit.” She posed in the mirror for a moment. “I need to show off how I look anyway.”

  “True.”

  “Hurry back, though,” Sam said. “The guys will be here soon. I want us all to be together for a while before the judge gets here.”

  “Yeah–that was some fast footwork. How did he land a judge on such short notice?” Jo asked.

  “The guy was his favorite professor at BC. He made judge a couple of years ago, and he and Dave stayed in touch, so he agreed to do the wedding for us.”

  “Get going, Bim.” Jo handed Sam her mascara. “Better redo this, too.”

  As the weatherman had promised, the sky was clearing to the northeast. Max got into Jo’s truck carefully, so as not to wrinkle her dress, thinking about the arguments she might use to get Jo to move to Boston.

  Dave and Tyler spent the night before the wedding at the bed and breakfast with Dave’s family. They pulled into the driveway, maneuvering around the florist’s van, just before noon.

  They went to the back of the house, where two men were setting up several tables with pale peach coverings and ivory hydrangeas. They had placed several fourteen-foot poles in the ground, and matching streamers and balloons hung from them.

  “Wow!” Tyler shouted.

  One of the men looked up. “The groom?” he asked, taking in Dave’s tailored suit and nervous expression.

  “Dave Delaney,” he held out his hand, “and this is my best man, Tyler.”

  “Best man, huh? Quite the honor.” He shook Dave’s hand, then Tyler’s. “Scott O’Donnell. We own the florist shop in town.”

  “Looks great out here.”

  “Yeah, it does.” Tyler was watching the assistant attach balloons to one of the displays.

  “Almost done. Hey,” Scott said, “you must want a balloon.”

  Tyler started to agree, then shook his head. “Nah. But thanks. I have to take care of Dad today.”

  “You know, you’re right. I should have thought of that.” He grinned at Dave.

  “He’s a great best man,” Dave said proudly.

  “Obviously.”

  “We’ll let you get back to work.”

  They went up the stairs to the deck, going into the kitchen through the deck door. Jo was standing by the stove, her hands on her hips, glaring at Max.

&
nbsp; Dave whistled. “You two look gorgeous,” he said, wondering what the tension was about.

  “Aunt Josie, you and Aunt Maxine look beautiful.”

  “Thank you, Tyler.” She glanced at them. “Dave,” she greeted him curtly, then returned to Max.

  “Something wrong?”

  Jo was obviously exasperated. “You know the town crier, Lettie? Down at the store?”

  He nodded. “Met her last week.”

  “Well, genius here,” she jerked her head toward Max, “told her all about the wedding, and then told her to feel free to stop by.”

  Dave frowned. “No problem, Jo. We have extra food and all…”

  She raised her eyebrows at Max. “Want to pick it up from there?”

  Sheepishly, Max said, “She started telling people who came in the store to stop by, too.”

  “How many people?”

  “I left when she was telling maybe the fifth or sixth customer.”

  “Lettie got a ton of supplies in today. She’ll be busy until three, with all the seasonal people moving in for the holiday weekend–then she’s closing the store and putting a sign in the window about the wedding, and Max said nothing.”

  “That’s not true. I told her we had food for only us, and she said she’d make sure no one showed up empty-handed. I think she thought it was like an open-house thing.”

  Tyler was laughing. “Cool,” he said, looking up at his dad.

  Dave sat at the table, thinking it over. “Well, unless we want to un-invite Lettie…”

  “And probably half of the townies,” Jo added, glaring again at Max.

  “…we’d better go catch the guys with the tables.” He rose quickly. “Be right back.”

  He explained the situation to Scott O’Donnell, who–after a few humorous comments–headed into town immediately for more tables. “I have extra table covers,” he said as he left, “but not flowers. That okay?”

  “Hey, I’m grateful. Bring me a revised bill.”

  Jo was on the phone when he came back in. “Thank you, so much…Good. See you at three.” She looked at Dave, still annoyed. “The caterer can throw together a few cold cut platters and some potato salad, enough for another twenty-five or so.”

  He came around the counter, turning her around and rubbing her shoulders. “It’ll be okay.”