Ashes and Alms

by A M Leibowitz

  “Maybe,” Jo replied. “I don’t know what I’m going to talk about with these women. I can hardly tell them about my life during all those years.”

  “Why not?” Phil asked, pausing in putting jam on his toast.

  “You know why not,” she snapped.

  “No, I don’t. You’re going to a reunion, and you’re not planning to catch them up on everything?”

  “I don’t know!” Jo took a vicious bite of eggs and chewed it aggressively. She couldn’t explain how she would have felt differently if she’d still been married to Kristina. Two failed marriages and an estranged daughter weren’t compelling success stories.

  Phil reached across the table and put his hand on hers. “Did I ever tell you what happened when I got together with Darren?”

  “Another of our missionary buddies? Maybe. I don’t remember.”

  With a squeeze, Phil let go of her hand and sat back. “He was the first person from the church I came out to, right when I was burning out.”

  “I hadn’t realized you’d kept in touch with him for that long after our trip.”

  “I didn’t. He came to see me because he didn’t know who else to talk to and hoped I might put some sense in him.”

  Jo sat up, curious. Phil had never shared this story with her. “Go on.”

  “Said he felt like he was losing his faith, but he couldn’t get with his pastor to discuss it. Look, I can’t say too much because it’s not my story to tell. But what he said affected me deeply, and I confessed my secrets to him.”

  “And? What did he say?”

  “He didn’t judge me. He said we all must have our things. He asked me for help figuring out how to tell his wife and kids he was done with church. That’s when I knew I had to get out.”

  Jo nodded. “And you think that’s how it’ll go for me?”

  He shrugged. “Could be. You’ll never know unless you try. Be brave. Be vulnerable. If they hate you, what’s really changed? You haven’t seen them in forty years, and you never have to see them again. But what if they need you to be the first one who isn’t ashamed of who you are?”

  “Wise words, Doc,” Jo said.

  “That’s what they pay me for.” He glanced at the clock above the cash register. “Speaking of, I should get going. I’ve got therapy clients to see.”

  They stood, and Phil kissed Jo’s cheek. She followed him to the register, turning over his words in her mind. She didn’t know if she could be the brave one.

  ***

  The suitcase lay open on the bed, and Jo tossed items into it. A faint smile emerged when she thought about the ancient carry-all she’d borrowed from her mother that summer. It would be an antique now, or just about. That one would’ve had room to spare, but Jo didn’t need anything so bulky this time. She was only going to be away for a few days—long enough to attend the reunion and maybe find one other interesting site to see. Then it was back home.

  She opened her drawer to pack her underthings. Practical garments only this trip. Not that Jo anticipated trying to find someone for a fling while she was in Chicago, but she was making her rules clear. Jo had never been the casual sort, regardless of what she’d told anyone after everything broke open during her missionary summer. There was no “just an experiment” or “it didn’t mean anything” for her. She’d allowed them to think it was a temporary slip, something which would never be repeated. She’d even managed to convince herself of it long enough to marry the man she’d gotten pregnant with.

  After the divorce, she’d only had a couple of one-offs, or what she’d intended to be anyway. She’d met a few women in secret, but none of them had the patience for her insecurities. Then there was Kristina. She’d started off as casual flirting in a bar which turned into twenty years.

  It wasn’t a bar, trying to pick up someone half her age, on her mind as she folded her clothes. Nor was it a random stranger invading her thoughts. As hard as she tried to pretend this wasn’t all about Annie, she would never escape her regret at the way they’d parted. Ever since the postcard arrived, she’d been fighting both the memories and unwelcome notions of finishing what they’d started when they were seventeen and barely aware of what it all meant.

  They’d been close, the six of them, before the trip. Or as close as they could be. They’d traded secrets and whispered about the boys and braided each other’s hair. They’d stayed up late at church overnights. The adults saw them as inseparable, even though Jo had always felt a gap between them. She had no words to confess her confusion when all the others swooned over Donny Osmond or the Cassidys. Every one of the others seemed to develop a crush on one or another of the boys at their church, too. Jo had learned the language of me-too-ing her way through those awkward post-midnight whispered conversations.

  Not well enough, apparently. By the time she’d figured out why the other girls’ obsessions never made sense, she was married and had a child. Her summer with Annie might have been a mistake or a sin, but it held more truth than the ill-fitting costume of being wedded to a man.

  Reaching into the drawer, Jo’s hand connected with something smooth and satiny. She pulled it out and scowled at the multicolored bikini underwear. She’d kept them for forty years, and she’d never worn them even once. They were more than a miserable reminder of her summer trip. That pair of underwear represented everything she’d done wrong.

  The trip to Woolworth’s, where she’d bought them, was vivid in her mind. She and her bunkmates had gone in on their afternoon off, looking for somewhere to cool down. Jo recalled the way the heat of the sidewalk seeped through the soles of her sandals as they walked from their temporary housing. She could almost feel the icy blast of the store’s air conditioning as they entered, the slight brush of Annie’s hand as they hung back and listened to the other girls giggling.

  They’d wandered the aisles, fingering the bolts of cotton fabric and sifting through dress patterns. After a while, the other girls had wanted to see if they had “anything fun” in stock, meaning they wanted a look at the kinds of underwear their mothers were embarrassed to stand by while they purchased. The private rebellion of the Good Girl Brigade. In among the racks, Annie had pulled Jo by the hand. Jo had been hyper-aware of how close Annie stood to her and the way it raised the hairs on her arms to be so near. And then she’d turned to Jo, grinning and holding up the most hideous pair of color-swirled, satin bikini underpants.

  Jo could never recall how it happened from there, only that one minute they were laughing at the panties and the next, they were so close Jo hadn’t been able to breathe. The kiss had only been a brief touch of lips to lips, long enough for both of them to remember where they were and shift apart before anyone saw them. The beginning of the end; if only they’d been aware that someone had seen them.

  Now, in the midst of packing, Jo held the panties for a moment and then tossed them into the suitcase. She wouldn’t put them on, but they were a souvenir of that era. She glanced between the drawer and the suitcase, eying her simple garments. It wouldn’t hurt to bring something nice to wear under her good clothes. She took out her favorite pair of boxer briefs, gray with blue pinstripes, and threw them in on top of the rest. It didn’t matter that no one would see them. She would know she had them on.

  Adding the soft gray sports bra she liked to go with the briefs, she closed the suitcase and zipped it shut. One more thing to cross off her list in preparation to meet her summer sisters again.

  ***

  Jo made her way through the airport to the shuttle service. She was staying right in the same hotel where they were meeting, so she had no need of a rental car or to attempt navigating a strange city. She leaned back in her seat and turned her head to watch out the window as buildings went by.

  They weren’t getting together until the following day, so Jo had time. Not that she was interested in exploring on her own. She’d given herself an evening to settle in and prepare for whatever the fates had in store. Unfortunately, it also gave her time to
think about each one of the other women and what might have become of them.

  After their summer together, she’d gone into hiding. Everything was about keeping her head down and doing nothing but concentrating on school. She would likely never know which of them had gone to the leadership team about her and Annie. They’d thought they were being discreet, keeping their kisses and brief touches to after lights out or in secret corners when they were sure they were alone. Jo had no idea who had seen them or how it had gotten back to the adults. She only knew they’d shuffled room assignments, notified parents, and cut short their work with the children. Annie had been sent to the senior center, and Jo had been put on a paint crew. If the whole thing hadn’t been a mess, she’d have been glad to finally be on a housing team.

  She wondered now if the other girls had gossiped about her the way they were always going on over so-and-so’s boyfriend troubles. Everything for them revolved around looking squeaky clean, thinking their satin and lace underwear was some kind of hardcore rebellion. Jo couldn’t say she blamed them. It wasn’t as though she hadn’t tried to convince them all she and Annie were “just curious.” It was unfortunate she’d mostly succeeded in convincing herself until she couldn’t pretend anymore.

  And what about Annie? What had she been doing all these years? Perhaps she, too, had gone on to marry a man and have babies for the Lord. Jo couldn’t picture Annie ever agreeing to “love, honor, and obey.” Perhaps the love and honor parts. Had she needed to pretend for the sake of her family? Settle down with a man she would never love? Jo wouldn’t have wished that kind of unhappiness on Annie or anyone else, not even whoever shattered their world that summer.

  Before Jo knew it, the shuttle had pulled up to the hotel. Along with a few other passengers, she disembarked and retrieved her bag. She stood at the entrance, allowing the other guests to pass her by. She shouldered her bag, at last ready to enter. As she did, she saw a woman of average height, curvy, and with her silvery hair in a neat braid which ran halfway down her back. She might have been forty years older and no longer a skinny teenager, but Jo would know her face anywhere. After all, it was the face of the woman who had been her first love, the first person she’d ever kissed.

  Jo wasn’t prepared for the rush of emotions as her Annie came to claim her. Annie stretched out her arms as Jo approached, and Jo couldn’t stop the forward momentum as she rushed into Annie’s embrace. She held on tightly, as though if she let go Annie might float away into the sky and disappear forever. After a moment or two of being crushed, Annie laughed softly into Jo’s shoulder, and Jo released her.

  “I’m sorry,” she said.

  “It’s all right. How wonderful to see you, Jo.” Annie’s smile could light up the world. “It’s been far too long.”

  It had been, but Jo was nowhere near ready to talk about all the years and miles between her last time in Chicago and now. Instead, she said, “What’s the plan for the weekend?”

  Annie picked up Jo’s suitcase and headed toward the hotel entrance. Over her shoulder, she replied, “A visit to the neighborhood where we worked, and then dinner. Tomorrow, we might go do something touristy, if everyone is staying.”

  “I’ll be here.”

  “Fantastic!” Annie set Jo’s suitcase down by the check-in desk. “I’ll wait for you over there.” She pointed to a sitting area.

  “I’ll just be a minute.”

  Once Jo had checked in, she joined Annie. Their rooms weren’t on the same floor, but Annie accompanied her anyway. At Jo’s room, Annie paused as though waiting for Jo to say something. Jo hesitated. On the one hand, she wanted to know everything about what had happened in Annie’s life. On the other, she now felt strange and awkward with a woman she hadn’t seen in almost forty years.

  “Did you want to—”

  “I could just—”

  They both laughed. “I suppose I should get settled in,” Jo said, sparing them both.

  “Right. Um…well, I’ll see you in the morning, then?”

  “Yes, definitely. Where are we meeting?”

  Annie reached into her pocket. “Why don’t you give me your number, and I’ll put it in my phone. We’re meeting in the lobby as soon as we’re all here. The others aren’t supposed to arrive until tomorrow, and Evelyn is local.”

  “Oh. I hadn’t known.” Jo took Annie’s phone and entered her number then handed the phone back.

  “See you tomorrow,” Annie said as she accepted it.

  She turned and walked away. Jo pulled out her key card, but she didn’t open the door. She watched Annie’s retreating back, wishing she had the courage to call after her. To tell her she wanted to know everything that had happened in the intervening years. To explain that the distance in time, space, and mind hadn’t made a difference at all.

  Except for the small detail that it had. The initial rush of emotions had faded into the realization that she didn’t know Annie. They hadn’t become reacquainted as adults. For all Jo knew, Annie was happily settled in whatever path her life had taken. Here Jo was, expecting to pick up where they’d left off decades before, without a single thought to what might be disrupted by it. They weren’t the same people they’d been during their missionary summer. Perhaps even those people had been artificial, a construct of the time and place.

  With a sigh, Jo slid her key card into the slot and opened the hotel door. She entered the room and let the door close with a click, turning around and leaning against it as she dropped her suitcase at her feet. Uncertainty about the trip, the other women, and her role in everything that had gone sideways hit her with blunt force. She closed her eyes, and for the first time in years, she said a prayer that everything would be all right.

  ***

  In the morning, Jo woke and stretched. She lay on her back in bed, staring at the textured ceiling. Only a small amount of light filtered in around the heavy curtain, so she had no idea how late it was.

  Reaching over, she tilted the bedside clock and groaned. She only had fifteen minutes to get herself ready and downstairs if she wanted to take advantage of the hotel’s breakfast service. Tossing back the covers, she rolled out of bed and gathered her clothes.

  Exactly twelve minutes later, she was in the breakfast nook of the lobby, waiting in line for the toaster. She nearly dropped her bagel when a voice at her elbow said, “Boo!” She whirled to face the intruder, and her mouth fell open. It may have been forty years, but Gail looked almost exactly the same as she had when they were teens.

  Next to Gail, Annie smiled apologetically at Jo. “She arrived as I was coming down for breakfast, so I asked if she wanted to join me. Didn’t know she would startle you like that.”

  Jo chuckled, despite being mildly annoyed. She’d been looking forward to spending time with Annie before meeting the others. Gail was a bit more enthusiastic than Jo was currently in the mood for. Still, maybe it was better this way. Jo wouldn’t need to carry the conversation alone.

  She gave Gail a one-armed hug, grateful for the bagel preventing full-body contact. “Good to see you.”

  “Same. I can’t believe it’s been so long!” Gail gushed.

  Jo toasted her bagel and followed the others to a small table. Gail plunked her oversize purse beside a chair and flopped into it. She looked good: tall, athletic, and lean, her now salt-and-pepper curls loosely piled on top of her head. She was tan in a way that suggested she spent a lot of time outdoors. Gail’s flowing skirt and jangly earrings were more what Jo had expected from Annie, but they made sense on Gail as well. Jo hadn’t remembered her imitating such a bohemian style as a teen, but it suited her now. It made Jo feel self-conscious about her own V-neck green T-shirt and tan cargo pants.

  “So, what have you all been up to?” Gail asked. “Wait, don’t tell me yet. Let’s wait for everyone. But I at least want to know where you’re both working. Jo?”

  Caught mid-bite, Jo swallowed her bagel and took a sip of her tea. “I’m a mechanical engineer with IVA, the automotive pa
rts company.”

  “Oh! That’s terrific.” Gail’s smile had the sort of not-really-interested strain around it Jo was used to when she described her work to most people.

  “And you?” Jo tried to imagine what sort of business Gail was in and couldn’t.

  “Human Resources at a skilled nursing facility. Not sure if you knew, but I’m in Atlanta now.”

  “I hadn’t known, no.”

  Gail turned to Annie. “You, I know about.” She grinned. “You’ll have to tell Jo all about your adventures.”

  Annie ducked her head. “Maybe we should save it for the reunion.”

  Curious, Jo asked, “What adventures?”

  Before Annie could respond, Gail said, “She was in the Peace Corps for—how long was it again? And you’ve been all over the world!” Gail clapped her hands. “I’ll bet you’ve seen so many interesting things.”

  “It’s been a while since I did that kind of travel,” Annie said. “Anyway, I don’t want to make this all about me.”

  “Oh, pooh,” Gail replied. “We want to hear about it. Right, Jo? Certainly more exciting than what you or I do.” She elbowed Jo.

  “Uh…yes. Of course we do.” Jo tried to catch Annie’s eye and offer a reassuring smile, though what she really wanted was to roll her eyes behind Gail’s back.

  “I did bring some photos,” Annie said. “If you like, I’ll bring them along and show everyone at dinner later.”

  “Definitely!” Gail gripped Annie’s arm. “Why don’t you go get them, and I’ll stay here and catch up with Jo?”

  Jo froze with her bagel halfway to her mouth, silently hoping Annie would get the hint and not leave her alone with Gail. Annie only raised her eyebrows, the corner of her mouth lifting in a hint of a smile. Jo deflated, realizing she was stuck. She popped the last bit of bagel in her mouth and stood to gather her trash. Gail rose to her feet as well.