October Snow

by Jenna Brooks

  “Hillsboro Crisis. How may I direct your call?”

  “I’m trying to find Rebecca Lowenstein. She used to be the Community Affairs Coordinator there.”

  The young woman was very pleasant. “Yes, Becca’s still here. She’s actually the Director of Operations now. May I tell her who’s calling?”

  “Tell her it’s Josilyn Kane.”

  She paused. “Josie Kane?”

  “Well, that’s…Yes.” She sat as her stomach suddenly knotted up.

  “I’ll get her right away. Please hold.”

  It was only a few seconds before Becca came on the line. “Holy cow. Josie?”

  “Hi. Becca.”

  “Okay, let me think what to ask first.”

  Jo laughed. “Here you go: I’m fine, kids are fine, I’m still living in Manchester, and it’s good to hear your voice again.”

  “Same here. And all’s well on my end, too.”

  “Obviously. Director of the whole thing now, huh?”

  “Yeah. I was a ten-year overnight success.”

  “Of course you were.” She was distracted for a moment as she fumbled to turn Sam’s phone off. Jack was still calling every few seconds. “That was a bit of an odd reception from the girl at the desk. Do I know her?”

  “Doubtful. Her name’s Julie. She just started here last year. You’re something of a legend in these circles, hon–I’m sure she’s heard of you.”

  “Hmmm. I could do without that.” She was pulling a pen from her purse, rummaging for a slip of paper. “Becca, I’ve got a situation here.”

  “What do you need?”

  Jo paused, moved by the instant show of support, and was silent for a moment. “I need two things: a couple of O.P.’s, and to be recertified as an advocate.”

  “Who are the orders for?”

  “A friend of mine. And me.”

  Becca was quiet for a moment. “Hold on.” Jo could hear her keyboard clicking rapidly. “Okay, I just entered you in the log, effective for nine o’clock this morning. Got an logout time for me?”

  “Actually, I don’t.”

  Becca exhaled with a whooshing sound. “You’ll have to renew every few days, then. Want to tell me what’s going on?”

  Jo gave her the synopsis of the past several days, Sam’s situation, and then the phone call from Jack.

  “Yeah, we’ll get you the TRO’s…Not for Samantha, though?”

  “He hasn’t done anything there that we can document.”

  “Right. You want an advocate to go to the police station with you? Courts are closed today.”

  “Oh, that’s right, it’s Saturday. Yeah, I think so. It’s been a while for me.”

  “Okay. I’ve got one of our better people on call today–her name’s Victoria. What time can you get there?”

  “I’ll need to explain to the girls what’s going on. Around eleven?”

  “Done. I’m texting her right now.” She paused. “There. All set. Now,” she said pointedly, “why did I just put you back on the roster here?”

  “Because both of these women are going to need to hide out for a while…”

  “And no one can make you talk about any of this, during or after, if you’re on the clock.”

  “Right. It’s just a precaution, though–I may not need it.”

  “Hope not, but it’s definitely a good idea.” She chuckled. “You’ve got balls, Josie.”

  “Yeah. Legend, remember?” she muttered sarcastically.

  “Never forgot.” Her voice was softer then. “So you did okay after what happened?”

  Jo gazed out the window at the robin, still assembling her nest. “I’m getting by. Just one foot in front of the other, you know?”

  “Yeah.” She sounded doubtful. “Please, if you need anything, anything at all…”

  “I did, Becca. And so I called you.”

  “And I’m glad.” After a pause that was a bit awkward, she asked, “Where are you going to take them?”

  “A house in Strafford. On the lake. I rented it for the summer.”

  “Oh, nice…If it wouldn’t be in such bad taste, I’d joke that I need an advocate for the next few months.”

  That broke the tension, and Jo’s laugh was genuine. “I’ll be checking in.”

  “No less than once a week, okay?”

  “Absolutely.”

  Jo took Becca’s cell number before they parted. Sam and Max were just coming in the door; Sam headed straight into the bathroom with the pregnancy test kit.

  “Coffee,” Max moaned.

  Jo brought her pink mug out to the table, where Max was laying her head on her arms, her eyes closed. “What a mess,” she sighed. She lifted her head, reaching gratefully for the coffee, downing half of it. “Thanks. Mmmm, good…” She glanced sheepishly at Jo. “Good coffee.”

  Jo ruffled her hair. “She’s pregnant, Bim.”

  Max nodded, still drinking. “I know,” she managed between sips. “That really gums it up. We need to get her out of here for a while. Somehow–she has more ties than we do.”

  As they suspected, the test was positive. Sam appeared in the doorway to the dining area, slumped against it, rubbing her brow as if she had a headache. The three women looked at each other, and Max was the first to speak.

  “Great,” she muttered.

  “Yeah,” Sam said, and she began to cry.

  A half-hour later, they were sitting at Jo’s table, eating scrambled eggs and english muffins. Sam had finished hers, as well as Max’s, and was picking at Jo’s plate as Jo recounted for them what had happened with Jack while they were at the drugstore.

  “I know it’s a lot to take in, especially with this new issue…”

  “Issue,” Sam snorted.

  “Okay.” Max looked up at her from where she had been picking at a worn spot on the table, annoyed. “Okay. How’s about, Jo knows it’s bad timing to plan The Great Escape when we just found out that you’re knocked up.” She tossed her napkin on the table, sitting back. “That work better?”

  Sam glared at her. “Actually, yes. Better than ‘issue’.” She turned away, chewing on what was left of her thumbnail. “What ‘Great Escape’?” Without waiting for an answer, she moaned, “I don’t know what to do.”

  “What do you want to do?” Jo reached out, putting her hand on Sam’s back.

  “You know I’m pro-life, Jo.”

  “I know. I meant, what do you want to do about Jack?”

  Sam turned to face her then, her eyes wide, and then distant. “He’ll never let me go, and especially not if I have his child. I’m stuck.” She focused again on Jo. “I’m stuck.”

  “Not necessarily,” Jo said. She stood up and opened her arms to her. She wrapped her arms around Jo’s waist and buried her face in her sweatshirt.

  “Geez, Sammy,” Max came around the table, crouching beside Sam’s chair. “No, honey, don’t. We’ll figure this out.”

  Sam shook her head.

  “Okay,” Jo said firmly, brusquely rubbing Sam’s back. “Come on now. It’s going to be fine. You need to toughen up, honey. We just need to plan, that’s all.” She stared into the distance for a few moments. “Come on now, Sammy.”

  As Sam pulled away to look up at her, Jo handed her a tissue and said, “We need to be smart about it. Here’s what we’re going to do.”

  They emerged from the Downtown Precinct two hours later. Jo hugged Victoria–a tiny brunette who couldn’t have been more than twenty years old–and thanked her, and Max did so as well. Sam watched them from a few feet away.

  “Ten o’clock Monday morning,” Victoria reminded them. “We’ll convert that TRO to something more permanent.” She looked concerned then. “You sure you don’t want me to go to the husband’s house with you, help you get her things? He gave you only an hour to get everything.”

  “No, but thanks. We’ll have a few big, burly cops there–we’ll be fine.”

  “Let me know what you need, if anything. Other than that, se
e you on Monday.” She gave Sam a smile. “Take care of yourselves, okay?” Her phone was ringing, and she checked the I.D. “Gotta take this. ‘Bye.”

  They watched her walk down the street toward her car. Sam broke the silence as they arrived at Jo’s truck. “So why didn’t I get a restraining order?”

  Jo opened the door for her. “We didn’t have anything to document you.”

  Sam pouted as she closed the door and leaned her chin into her hand. As they pulled away from the curb, she said, “I should’ve gone to the ER that night.”

  “Actually, Sammy, it works out okay this way, too. All you need to do is be with either Max or me, and by proxy you’re covered. If he can’t be within a hundred yards of either of us, then just hang out with us, you know?”

  She nodded. “I need to get my car. What time are we meeting the cops at the house?”

  “Two o’clock.” Max pointed at the coffee shop at the next intersection. “What about work, Sammy?”

  “I called out. Can we stop at the coffee shop?”

  “Yeah, Jo, stop here. I’m starving.”

  “We just ate.”

  Max grinned at Sam. “No, someone else ate most of my breakfast.” Sam looked regretfully at her. “That’s okay, Bim. You’re eating for three.”

  “Huh? Two.”

  “With the way you ate? Definitely twins.”

  “Ohhh, no…Don’t even think it.” Jo pulled in to a spot right in front, and Sam got out quickly. “I am kinda hungry.”

  chapter 7

  JACK PULLED IN to The Berry Crate, thinking he’d have Sam serve him his breakfast while he put her on notice: she had that day, and only that day, to return home, or he’d be visiting her friends that night.

  He strolled confidently to the entrance of the restaurant, stopping to hold the door for an elderly couple who was entering behind him, and then retrieving a stuffed animal that a child in a stroller had tossed to the floor. He felt warmed by the mother’s gratitude. He thought again about how Sam just didn’t appreciate him. Privately, he often lamented the irony that everyone else could see that he was, truly, just a nice guy–maybe too nice; yet, he had somehow managed to land with the one woman who wouldn’t treat him with the respect that others always did. The respect he was entitled to.

  He stood waiting at the hostess stand, pleased to see that it would be Barb who would seat him.

  “Well, hello, Jack. Did my loveliness draw you in for breakfast?”

  He thought that Barb was probably a few scotches removed from being lovely. “Absolutely,” he smiled. He glanced at the roster of the servers on duty, perched on the edge of the lectern. “Where’s Sam’s name? Isn’t she here yet?”

  She rolled her eyes. “She called out today. I have to tell you, Jack, that this time, I’m going to have to…”

  Jack was backing toward the door. “Sorry, Barb. I need to go.” He turned and sprinted for the door as Barb stared after him, smiling faintly.

  Sam was holding her stomach, yawning as she laid across the back seat.

  “Let’s go get your car.” Texting Matt and John, Jo wandered close to the traffic as she went to the driver’s side of her truck. A piercing blast from a passing car brought her head back up as she jumped back toward the curb. “Darn it.” She opened her door. “Sent the text before I finished typing it in.” She tossed the phone onto the cup holder.

  Beside her, Max inclined her head to the side of the truck, listening to the engine sputter. “Should I add ‘tuneup’ to the to-do list before the trip?”

  “Yeah.” She retrieved her phone to check the text that was coming in. “Johnny,” she said. “He and Matt want to come by tomorrow night.”

  Max frowned. “Weird.”

  “Well, we’ll see what’s up.” She glanced back at Sam, then smiled gently. “She’s dozing off.”

  “Poor kid.”

  “You want to drive her car over to the house? Let her sleep?”

  Max was already reaching over the seat for Sam’s purse. “Yeah.” She pulled out the black leather pouch where Sam kept her keys and ID; her expression softened as she pulled out a picture.

  “Hey Jo, look at this…” Her voice trailed off as she held it up where Jo could take a quick look at it.

  “That’s interesting.” It was a picture of Sam, her arms around an infant Tyler, with Dave encircling both of them from behind. They were smiling broadly, almost laughing, wearing Santa hats in front of a Christmas tree display.

  “Wow,” Max sighed, her voice unsteady. “Nice pic.”

  “Guess that’s about seven years ago.”

  “Happier times,” Max said softly. “It’s been laminated, but it looks like it’s been looked at a lot–edges are all frayed underneath.”

  “I see that.”

  Max studied her for a moment, noting her clenched jaw and her steady stare out the front of the truck, and said, “You’re thinking the same thing I am.”

  Jo was turning into the parking garage. “Probably. Put it back and let’s head over. It’s almost two.”

  They pulled up to the house which was, technically, Jack’s–it was in his name alone–just in time to see a policeman handing him a piece of paper at the front door. A second policeman walked over to meet them as they got out of their cars.

  Jack glanced over to where they stood waiting, then returned to the officer at the door, looking at him plaintively and gesturing with the piece of paper. Snippets of the conversation wafted over.

  “We’d ask you to wait in the car anyway, Mr. Seever. Seeing as the women named on that order are with her, you may as well just have a seat in the cruiser, and let them get her things. It’s not going to take long.”

  “He’s gonna be pissed,” Max muttered.

  Jo grinned wryly, one side of her mouth turning up, her gaze staying level on Jack. “Yeah, but he won’t show it. He needs to be the ‘sane’ one. Fifty bucks he’s already called her ‘nuts’at least twice.”

  “And expressed his regret that she’s so difficult.”

  The two women looked up at the young officer, surprised at his insight. His somber expression gave away the concern behind his sarcasm. “I did a college internship at the Nashua center. Hotline work, mostly, but some courtroom advocacy,” he explained, watching as his partner signaled from the door. “I know these guys six ways from Sunday.” He nodded to his partner, who then escorted Jack to the cruiser and placed him in the back seat. The officer, with the name Williams embossed on his tag, nodded curtly to the women. “Ready. Is Miss Bentley going to be here?”

  Jo pointed to her truck. “I’ll go wake her up.”

  She rubbed Sam’s arm gently for a moment, then shook her lightly. “Sammy? We’re at the house. You up for this?”

  She sat up immediately, more alert than Jo expected her to be. “Yeah. Let’s go.” She looked around. “Where’s Max?”

  “Right there.” Jo pointed to where Max was waiting with Williams. “She drove your car over. We should be able to get everything, between two cars.”

  “Jack?”

  “Contained.”

  “Good. I hope they leave him wherever they put him.”

  They grinned at each other. “C’mon. We’re almost there.”

  Sam deliberately passed close to the cruiser, ignoring Jack as she walked by.

  “Hey, you still have my phone?” Sam held her hand out, and Jo struggled to pull it from the deep pocket of her sweats as they waited at a red light.

  She handed it to her, checking for Max in the rearview mirror. “So how tired are you, hon?”

  “Just sleepy. I’m fine. Wouldn’t mind a nap, though.”

  “By the way, your house…”

  “Jack’s house,” Sam corrected her.

  “Yeah, Jack’s house…Wow. Like a magazine. But that neon-peach dining room…” She chuckled. “What was going on there?”

  “Jack liked the color,” she shrugged. “Never let me forget how much time he spent painting it. Two da
ys. Two days,” she mimicked, as she checked the lists of unread texts and missed calls. “Two messages.”

  Her expression grew hard as she listened to the message from Liz. “Fine,” she mumbled. “Mom told me to call her right now– guess this was a few hours ago–or ‘go to hell.’” She deleted the message. “Fine,” she said again.

  As she listened to the second message, her eyes turned distant.

  Jo touched her hand. “What’s up?”

  “Oh.” She looked up. “Oh, it’s Dave. Tyler got on for a minute, too.” She saved the message and closed her phone, running her fingers down the screen like a caress. She sighed deeply. “I have to tell Dave what’s going on.”

  Jo nodded. “Yeah, you do.”

  “I’m thinking that it’s probably best for Tyler to spend the next few weeks with Dave while I get things settled here.” Her voice caught then. “Jack. He’s gonna cost me more time with my baby.”

  “What about Tyler and school?”

  “Dave and I will work something out, I guess. There’s only a few weeks left.”

  They pulled into the public parking lot one street over from their apartment house, with Max pulling in behind them. “Hey, girls,” she called out as she got out, “Let’s make a good dinner and watch bad TV tonight. Be mindless. What says you?”

  “I like it,” Jo said. “Almost enough to give you that fist bump.”

  Max held out her fist.

  “Said ‘almost’, Bim.”

  Max pretended to pout. She was trying to keep it light, hoping to help Sam keep her spirits up, but it didn’t appear to be working.

  She threw her arm around Sam’s shoulders. “I’m on a mission to cheer you up, Sammy.” She gave her a squeeze, and they walked that way out of the lot.

  Jo stopped suddenly, holding her arm out in front of them to block them from moving.

  She put her finger to her lips, squinting ahead at the apartment house. Someone was moving along the front of the building. She looked at the cars parked along the street, picking out Jack’s, across from them and several cars down. She pointed to it. “Stay here,” she said, taking a picture of Jack’s car, then turning the sound off on her cell as she moved ahead of them.