On her way to the garbage can, Jo felt Annie’s warm fingers on her shoulder. “Hey,” she said. “I’m sorry. I had no idea she would show up or be so…perky.” She sighed.
Jo nodded, but she didn’t get a chance to respond. Gail called to them, her tone friendly but with a bit of an impatient bite. Jo exchanged a glance with Annie, and they both laughed.
“Don’t worry about it,” Jo said. “We’ll have plenty of time to catch up later. Gail’s right, anyway—I want to see the photos.”
“All right.” Annie glanced at her phone. “The others are supposed to be here around eleven, so we have a bit of time before we meet up with them. I’ll be as quick as I can.”
She headed out of the breakfast nook in the direction of the elevator. Gail looped her arm in Jo’s, and they followed Annie. Her enthusiastic chatter left Jo’s head buzzing, and she wished she could have followed Annie up to her room for a few moments of peace. Was this a sign of the rest of the day to come? Jo breathed slowly and braced herself for whatever lay ahead.
***
They met up with Cathy, Donna, and Evelyn and carpooled to the same neighborhood where they’d done their summer mission work. Much about it had changed since the seventies. There were some new buildings and some which were now crumbling. Woolworth’s was long gone, replaced by a Dollar General and surrounded on either side by other businesses.
As they arrived, Jo studied each woman for clues about how they’d spent the previous forty years, but she couldn’t discern anything. On the surface, they appeared as older versions of the girls they’d been. Cathy looked as perfect as she always had—long hair straightened and pulled into a low ponytail, expertly applied makeup that made her seem ten years younger, and a rounded-neck, short-sleeve sweater de-emphasizing her full figure. Donna, who had always been casual and sporty, had cut her hair short and dyed it a lighter shade of her natural blond. Aside from that, she was the picture of a suburban grandmother in her straight-leg jeans and pink polo shirt. Evelyn looked like she’d just stepped away from an expensive desk in a corporate office, which she probably just about had. She was the only one who had genuinely dressed up, in a nice dark-gray skirt and sea-green blouse.
Next to the others, Jo felt as though her own clothes didn’t adequately reflect the ups and downs of her life over the previous forty years. She ran a hand through her short, almost white hair and adjusted her glasses, but it didn’t make her feel any more comfortable around the others. She glanced at Annie, who only smiled and held the mission building door open for Jo.
Inside, a guide greeted them and handed out brochures outlining their updates. Some time in the last fifteen years, the original missionary board they’d worked with had been absorbed by another, larger program. They no longer took teens on summer trips. This one was strictly for adults, a type of internship for people wishing to go into full-time ministry. The work they did was similar, but they’d expanded the options.
The woman who led them on the tour was polite, if a bit stiff. As they walked through the building, Jo observed the various people in and out. She wondered whether any of the staff members were like she had been when she worked there. Young, naïve, and struggling to understand their sense of self. She thought about Phil and the work he did, counseling people who had left their strict, conservative churches, and wondered how many of the people here would need someone like Phil after they returned home and the fire of doing the Lord’s work flickered and died.
The boarding house had remained mostly the same, though it had been spruced up since Jo’s summer. She hardly recognized it. The six of them and their tour guide filed in, and Jo stood in the middle of the room, turning in a slow circle to take it all in. The guide continued her prepackaged speech, but Jo barely heard her.
Instead, her mind wandered back to weeks of late-night conversation, admissions of crushes and innocent musings about their future husbands under cover of darkness. She recalled Cathy’s hushed questions about what sex felt like and the resulting embarrassed giggles. Everything had seemed easy back then, when Jo could still assume one day she would figure out the Mystery of Boys that attracted the others.
The warm fingers on her arm caused Jo to shift and look over. Annie’s smile was, if not sad, then at least nostalgic. She nodded, an acknowledgement of the secrets they’d shared in this very room all those years ago.
The guide had stopped talking, and the others were waiting. Jo took a deep breath and smiled back at Annie, even though she was still filled with regret for her part in the situation and longing to go back and do it all over again. Maybe this time, she would be strong and stand by Annie, defending them both in spite of the consequences. This time, she wouldn’t tell the adults they were confused or that Annie had made the first move.
The guide’s brusque voice cut through Jo’s mental wanderings, urging them toward the door and the next part of the building. Annie followed the others, leaving Jo to exit last. She contemplated pulling Annie aside and telling her how deeply sorry she was for the way it had all turned out. Instead, she watched her retreating back and swallowed the bitter tang of sorrow and shame.
***
After a tour of one of the program’s facilities, a community garden, the six of them walked around the neighborhood. Chatter stayed light, sticking to brief talk about how the streets had changed and a few fond memories of the work they’d done together. Evelyn had stayed in touch over the years with a girl from the Bible camp who had gone on to become a pastor. It seemed strange to think that the youngest of their charges were all now in their mid-forties.
They stopped on a familiar corner, and Jo said, “Remember the time we came here and bought—” She stopped, not sure whether she wanted to bring up buying lingerie at Woolworth’s.
The others looked at her, and their chatter died down. Gail cleared her throat, and Donna looked like she didn’t want to recall that day. Jo glanced at Annie, but she was looking elsewhere. Jo didn’t blame her; whoever had turned them in had seen them exchange their first kiss behind the racks of underwear.
Cathy huffed. “Oh, come on. Yes, we bought mildly racy underwear. Are we really not past this?” She laughed. “I’m sure I’ve worn much less subtle pairs since then.”
That broke the tension, and everyone joined her laughter. Jo still felt the strain beneath it, and she wondered what they were all thinking. That they’d been playing at being “bad girls” by making a purchase they could hide? She didn’t know how any of them really felt about the pressure they’d all been under to behave like proper young ladies.
“Remember that street carnival?” Evelyn asked.
“Oh, yes!” Gail clapped her hands. “Darren lost all his money trying to get a ring on the neck of a bottle to win a huge bear for some girl.”
“Yes!” Donna laughed. “Right after Bobby tried to impress Cathy by riding the teacups six times in a row and nearly puked all over me on his way out.”
Gail nodded. “Clearly he succeeded in winning you over. How many years have you been married?”
“Oh, my word, you guys.” Cathy was giggling too, but she was blushing. “It’ll be thirty-five this summer. He’s learned his lesson, I promise.”
“Do you remember that ridiculously good-looking carnival boy at the name-guessing booth?” Evelyn asked. “He certainly had eyes for you, Annie. Kept trying to get us to come over there every time we walked past.”
Annie smiled, but Jo saw there was tension in her jaw. “He was persistent.”
Jo understood. She didn’t want to recall it either, the way she’d been so jealous she’d hauled Annie away from him to demand if she liked his attention. Jo had been certain they’d passed by him more times than necessary. It was the second time they’d kissed, and Jo could still feel the softness of Annie’s lips and taste the salty sweetness of the fries and Coke they’d shared right before.
She shivered despite the day’s heat. “It was quite a summer,” she remarked.
The others
were quiet for a moment, and Jo wondered what memories they were entertaining behind their thoughtful expressions. She shielded her eyes and looked up at the building where they’d stopped. It was another one which had been renovated, but she didn’t know what it had been. Like everything else, it had traces of familiarity covered by the changes of forty years.
“How about we go get something to eat?” Donna suggested, breaking the silence. “I’m pretty hungry.”
They returned to the hotel where all but Evelyn were staying. Instead of entering the restaurant there, they found an Italian place nearby with good prices and a cozy atmosphere.
Jo turned over in her mind the questions she still had from their trip to the mission building. No one had brought up what had cut their summer together short or everything afterward. They hadn’t asked her whether anything came of her adolescent explorations with Annie. So far, everyone had carefully avoided it, even Jo herself. Now, waiting for their food, she couldn’t help it.
“Who was it?” she asked. “You know, who told our leaders what Annie and I had done.” She glanced at Annie, whose expression didn’t change.
“It certainly wasn’t me,” Gail said. “I didn’t have a clue, as usual.” Her giggle was tense.
Donna and Evelyn exchanged a glance, but neither of them said anything. The silence stretched out until all eyes turned to Cathy. She looked around at them one by one, and Jo saw the regret as Cathy closed her eyes.
“I’m sorry,” she said, opening her eyes and looking right at Jo. “I shouldn’t have. I wanted something to take the pressure off anyone finding out what I was doing.”
Evelyn raised her eyebrows. “And just what were you doing?”
“Bobby,” Cathy said without hesitation.
“What a shock,” Gail muttered. “We all knew you’d get married eventually. Is it really that big a deal?”
Cathy huffed. “Well, it was at the time.” She almost smiled, but she turned serious. “I—”
“Is everything okay?” Annie asked. She reached out and put her hand on top of Cathy’s.
Sitting back, Cathy let out a long exhale. “More or less, but… Ah, I suppose I might as well tell you. There was—there was an affair. Early in our marriage. I’m not sure if we ever recovered.”
“Oh, Cath, I’m so sorry.” Gail patted her shoulder. The others made sympathetic noises as well.
Cathy jolted up in her seat. “God. I’m so tired of this, you know? So much fake-ass bullshit. I came here to see if your lives were all as perfect as I figured they’d be, and here I am pretending mine is too. Bobby didn’t have an affair—I did. I was working as a dental assistant, and I slept with the boss.” She flopped back in her seat and crossed her arms. “Much like I’d been doing that summer. Bobby and I were fooling around, but I was outright having sex with one of the leadership team—the college guy doing his internship. I was scared Bobby would figure it out, and the team leader didn’t want anyone to know what he was doing. So I told him about Jo and Annie to cover both our sorry asses.”
Jo glanced at the others, but they were all frozen in their spots, eyes wide and mouths open. She drew in a breath. “Well, if it helps, I’m still a lesbian.”
The others slowly turned to look at her, and Cathy nodded. She said, “Thank God.”
Laughing, Jo said, “I’m going to go out on a limb here and suggest maybe we try being a little less, uh, fake-ass, as you put it.”
“Let me start by taking off this damn sweater.” Cathy stripped it off to reveal a black, low-cut tank top that emphasized her gorgeous curves. She had a tattoo of a sword and a rose on one shoulder.
Gail whistled. “You go, lady.”
“It’s a damn tattoo. Why is everything like this?” Cathy asked. “Like we’ve all sheltered ourselves from the real world to the point we see this as evidence of something sinister.”
Nodding, Gail said, “I doubt you and Jo are the only ones.” She’d dropped her pretentious attitude. “I came here hoping to prove I was the same person I was back then, but why? No one stays like their teenage self forever. I hid so much from everyone.” She held out her hand to Cathy, who accepted it. “Hi, I’m Gail, and I’ve been in recovery—and clean—for ten years next month.”
Evelyn cleared her throat. “I was awful that summer. I’d seen you and Annie, and I told myself you were terrible people. I was going to say something, but Cathy got there first, and you’d already been disciplined. The thing is, though…” She pursed her lips. “My husband left me for a man about six years into our marriage. It changed how I saw things.” She smiled. “I’m remarried, and my ex and I are good friends now. He was always a wonderful father, in spite of how much he’d kept secret. Our son and daughter married their wives in a double wedding last year in New York.”
Jo gripped Evelyn’s hand. “I’m sorry, and I understand. Divorce, remarriage, coming out—it’s all hard.”
Donna flushed. “You all seem bent on sharing your secrets, so here’s mine. I converted to Judaism years ago when I married my husband. My whole family decided I was ‘going backwards.’ It’s not even this big, scary secret, but I’ve avoided a lot of people I used to know because they don’t get it at all.”
Cathy turned her eye on Annie. “We’ve all revealed ourselves. What about you? Did you go the same way as Jo?”
Annie’s eyes crinkled a little when she smiled. “No. I never did get married. I thought I would. A couple of years traveling, then settle down, have kids.”
“But…?” Evelyn prompted.
“I was with someone, but he didn’t work out. So I went to medical school, fell in love with a woman there, fell out of love…and ended up seeing a lot more of the world than I’d planned.” Her smile faded. “I love the life I had, but there are things I wish I’d done, or maybe done differently.”
“I think,” Cathy remarked, “that we have a lot of catching up to do. Anyone interested in finding something to do for the afternoon?”
***
When they returned to the hotel after a day out and then dinner, Jo lingered with Annie behind the others. They were saying their goodbyes to Donna, who had a late flight, and Evelyn. Annie looked up at the sky, now streaked with rose and salmon. She spoke without turning to face Jo.
“Are we going to talk about what happened?” she asked. “Not the version we danced around with the others, the real one.”
“Should we?” Jo replied. They never had, though now she was curious.
“I don’t know.”
Annie was interrupted by the group surrounding them again. Evelyn and Donna left with promises to keep in touch. Jo didn’t know whether they would or not. Seeing each other once every forty years might be enough at this point. They’d known each other once upon a time in a place to which none of them wanted to return.
“Well, we don’t need to leave or go to bed like the grannies we are,” Gail joked. “Who’s up for finding some fun?”
Cathy shrugged. “I’m game. How about you two?”
Jo shook her head. “I don’t think so.”
“Annie?” Gail tried.
Annie glanced at Jo. “You two go on. It’s been a long day, and I should—”
“But this was your idea!” Gail exclaimed. “Come on.”
Another flick of her gaze, which this time didn’t go unnoticed. “I’d rather have a quiet evening.”
Cathy spared Annie and Jo from having to spell it out for Gail. “You know, we haven’t done this just the two of us since high school.” Her smile contained a hint of wicked mischief. “Could be fun. I’ll change into something more appropriate.”
Gail nudged her. “You’re on.” She turned to Jo and Annie. “You’ll manage on your own, then?”
“We’ll be fine,” Jo assured her.
When the others had gone, Annie waited a moment before she said, “Coffee and dessert? There’s a nice little café in walking distance.”
On the way there, neither of them spoke. It was what Jo rem
embered liking about Annie. She didn’t have Gail’s or Cathy’s incessant need for chatter, but the silence wasn’t awkward the way it was with Evelyn or Donna. Annie allowed Jo the time she needed to think.
They sat outside to enjoy the decadent caramel apple cheesecake and rich, dark coffee. Jo supposed it would probably keep her up late, but that might be all right if she and Annie were going to talk awhile. She watched Annie take a bite, closing her eyes and smiling around her fork.
When she opened her eyes again, she focused on Jo. Setting her fork aside, she said, “You want to know what happened after they split us up, don’t you?”
“I’ve always wondered.” Jo took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have told them it was your idea or that I was confused. Or… I suppose I was confused, but not the way I made it sound.”
Annie put a hand on top of Jo’s. “I forgave you years ago. I could have told them the truth, but I suspected it would be far worse for you than for me if I did.”
“What do you mean?”
It took a moment before Annie responded, as though she didn’t know where to begin. “Do you know anything about my family?”
“No. I don’t think I ever met your parents, aside from the day we left.”
“The church already had me marked as their personal project. I think it surprised them I wanted to go on the trip. They knew who my parents were, and they had expectations for me.” She frowned. “I was to bring the Gospel to them, of course.”
Jo thought about her own daughter and the expectations the church must have placed on her as a teenager. Her heart ached with new understanding and sympathy, even as it occurred to her she would never be able to live up to Cindy’s standards—or her church’s.
“I think I know what that must have been like,” she said.
“Do you?” Annie’s question seemed full of genuine surprise rather than sarcasm. She paused again, running a finger over the rim of her coffee cup. “I never did fit into their plans.” She fell silent.
“You were going to tell me about your parents,” Jo prompted.
Ashes and Alms Page 3