Page 10 of Starlight & Dark Nights

Frankie shakes her head and looks off into the distance. “I saw her downtown the other day. She was taking her kids into the church, and let me tell you, she looked horrible.”

Jo winces. “Of course she did. I’m sure she hasn’t slept since December thirteenth.”

“Have any of us?” Frankie asks so quietly that her words are barely audible.

Jo, who knows how quickly she can fall down the rabbit hole and imagine herself in the worst case scenarios, wipes her hands on a dishtowel and takes a deep breath. “I’d better finish wrapping these Barbie dolls and make sure Kate is ready to go,” she says. “I’m guessing that Jude is nervous about throwing this party.”

“Nervous?” Frankie, a former Rockette who is not the least bit shy, cannot imagine being anything but excited about inviting people over to hang out by her pool.

“Sure,” Jo says. “Jude isn’t exactly a social butterfly, in case you haven’t noticed. I bet Vance has pushed her to throw this party, and that she’s doing it for the girls.”

“I wonder if they’ll serve alcohol?” Frankie folds her arms across her stomach and tilts her head to one side.

Jo, still holding the dishtowel, snaps it in the direction of her friend. “Be nice!” she says with a warning.

Jude’s drinking has bothered Jo for a long time, but no matter how many times she’s pointed it out, the other women in their group have shrugged it off. To Jo, it’s not nothing that a young mother drank so much that she ended up falling, hitting her head on the concrete, and sliding into the pool. Jude had been saved by a neighbor who saw the whole thing happen, and when she was brought into the hospital during one of Jo’s volunteer shifts, Jo had gotten a front row seat to her friend’s personal struggle. She’d even taken Hope and Faith home with her overnight while Vance stayed at the hospital with Jude.

Frankie holds up both hands. “I’m just saying—I could use a cocktail.”

“Well, slow down there, Boozy McGee,” Jo says, looping the dishtowel over the handle of her stove. “It’s only noon. Maybe start with a Tab or something.”

When they arrive at Jude’s, there’s a shroud of morbid curiosity hanging over everything. First is the fact that the Tragers’ house is right next door, with its curtains pulled shut tightly and the car hidden away in the garage. Jo wonders momentarily whether it’s bad form to throw a pool party right next door to the house where a young, pregnant widow of only a month is living with her two children, trying to survive the days and nights since their unimaginable loss.

She tries not to visibly shudder as they walk up the driveway with Kate in front of them, holding the wrapped Barbie dolls to give to the twins.

Inside the house, Jo plasters an uneasy smile on her face, greeting everyone as Jude leads them out to the pool, which she can’t help but remember is the sight of Jude’s near drowning.

“You okay?” Frankie nudges her as they sit in chairs near the pool while the children all gather together to listen to Hope and Faith talk excitedly about the cake and the presents that are forthcoming. “You look terrified.”

Jo shrugs. “I don’t know. Something feels off.”

This makes Frankie laugh. "Are you a psychic medium now, Josephine? You gonna read all our palms and talk to our dead relatives?"

As she says this, Maxine Trager walks through the gate holding two wrapped boxes. She looks pale and drawn.

The women who are gathered around the pool go quiet, but then realize it immediately and try to go back to their conversations as if their worst nightmare hadn't just come to life before their eyes.

"Maxine," Jo says quickly, standing up and sweeping her hands down the front of her capris. "Come sit with us."

God, I hope she didn't hear Frankie say that, Jo thinks, trying to keep the mortification off her face.

Maxine walks over to them. "I'm not staying," she says, looking stricken. "I just wanted to bring gifts for the girls."

Jude comes out from the kitchen holding a platter of cheese and Ritz crackers. She sets it on the picnic table and rushes over. "Maxine," she says. "I'm so sorry--were we being too loud?"

Maxine waves a hand as Jude takes the gifts from her. "No, no. Not at all. But even though I'm not in the mood for a party, I wanted to bring gifts by for Hope and Faith."

"Maxine, you didn't have to..." Jude trails off, holding the wrapped gifts dumbly.

Jo steps in to save her when she realizes that Jude might cry. "I want to bring dinner over for you and the kids this week," Jo says to Maxine boldly. None of this "tell us what we can do for you" nonsense that people say when they aren't sure what else to say. In Minnesota, where the winters get cold and long and the people speak more plainly, Jo learned that you told a grieving person what you were going to do for them rather than asking them to figure it out for you. And if they didn't want what you offered, then that was just fine too.

"That would be really nice, Jo," Maxine says in a near-whisper. "The kids and I are getting by, but I'm afraid I make a lot of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. You all have been so wonderful checking in on us and bringing meals, and I know I need to get back on my feet here soon, I'm just...not there yet."

This time it's Maxine who looks like crying, and Jude looks torn between staying and taking care of the guests who are there to celebrate her daughters' birthday, and walking her friend back home.

Again, Jo steps in: "Jude, I can get everyone here something to drink if you want to take Maxine home and get her settled in. And Maxine, if you feel like sending the kids over, we are all more than happy to watch Wendy for a bit and to have Ryan join us for cake and games."

Maxine's eyes look like saucers and all of a sudden Jo realizes that she's looking at a woman on the verge. Jo turns to Jude. "Jude, can you bring Wendy back with you? We'll keep her for an hour or two so that Maxine can catch a nap, okay?"

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