and big umbrella drinks in hand. How things had changed since that trip. She sighed, then moved on to straighten the picture staggered slightly behind it. Her fingers paused on the frame.
Oh my God . She picked up the picture, studying closer. It was a picture of Jo and her little sister, Kara, holding up sticks with toasted marshmallows on the end. A picture taken only days before Kara died. Jo wore a pale blue bathing suit with yellow and white daisies dotting the material. Kara also wore a bathing suit—rainbow striped.
Jo set the picture down as if the pewter frame was searing hot, even as a stark chill ran down her spine. She backed away from the photo, telling herself if she had seen a child in rainbow stripes today, it wasn’t a bathing suit. It wasn’t anything more than a coincidence. It certainly wasn’t Kara.
No. No, that was insane. Insane to even consider.
She forgot the bathroom and headed back to the kitchen. The bright lights and yellow paint instantly made her feel calmer. But she didn’t want to be alone. She was too shaken.
She glanced at the digital clock on her microwave. It was after 9:00 P.M. Maggie would be at work for hours yet.
Erika. She’d call and ask her to come over here. She didn’t know what she’d tell her friend, but she needed company. She scrolled through her phone, finding Erika’s number. She pressed the call button, and waited for the number to autodial. The phone rang once and then went straight to voice mail. She hung up and tried again with the same result. The second time she left a message for her, then hung up, debating what to do.
She could walk back over to Erika’s. But the idea of being outside in the dark, already nervous, really didn’t appeal. She flipped back her phone, scrolling through the numbers, looking for someone to call and talk with until she calmed down.
Cherise’s number came up, and she considered calling her, but decided against it. Cherise had three children and was likely busy with them. She could call her mother—but Mom never really calmed her. In general, her parents just made her more tense.
Then she stopped scrolling on a number without a name. Maksim’s number. She had it in her phone from when she’d called him to tell him he had the volunteering position, but she didn’t bother to type in his name yet. Before she thought better of it, she pressed the green dial button. She watched somewhat dazed as it pronounced it was calling.
“Hello.” She heard Maksim’s deep voice even before the phone was to her ear. She didn’t speak. She just held the receiver to her ear, trying to decide if she should speak or if she should just hang up.
“Hello? Jo, is that you?”
She was silent a moment longer, then said, “Yeah, it’s me. How did you know?” Her voice sounded funny, breathy, hoarse.
“I saved your number when you called me the other day. Are you okay?” he asked.
Of course he had, just like she had. “Umm—yeah.”
There was silence on his end, then, “Why are you calling? Did you need something?”
God, she should just hang up.
“Jo?”
“I—I just…” What was she doing? What was she supposed to say?
“Jo, something is wrong. It has to be; otherwise, you’d never call me.”
His wry tone made her laugh slightly.
“Yeah, you got me there.”
“Thanks.”
She laughed again at the flatness of his voice.
“So what’s going on?” he asked.
She should just tell him it was something about the center. She needed him to work longer tomorrow. Something. But she didn’t.
“Nothing,” she said, “I’m just—being silly.”
“Well, you could use a little more silly, I think.”
She smiled. “You are probably right.”
“Glad to hear you are being agreeable. I’ll be right over.”
“No,” she said quickly. She didn’t know how she’d react to him being here now, when she was tired and vulnerable and not thinking clearly. “I was just having a little problem with nighttime nerves.
Oh my God . She picked up the picture, studying closer. It was a picture of Jo and her little sister, Kara, holding up sticks with toasted marshmallows on the end. A picture taken only days before Kara died. Jo wore a pale blue bathing suit with yellow and white daisies dotting the material. Kara also wore a bathing suit—rainbow striped.
Jo set the picture down as if the pewter frame was searing hot, even as a stark chill ran down her spine. She backed away from the photo, telling herself if she had seen a child in rainbow stripes today, it wasn’t a bathing suit. It wasn’t anything more than a coincidence. It certainly wasn’t Kara.
No. No, that was insane. Insane to even consider.
She forgot the bathroom and headed back to the kitchen. The bright lights and yellow paint instantly made her feel calmer. But she didn’t want to be alone. She was too shaken.
She glanced at the digital clock on her microwave. It was after 9:00 P.M. Maggie would be at work for hours yet.
Erika. She’d call and ask her to come over here. She didn’t know what she’d tell her friend, but she needed company. She scrolled through her phone, finding Erika’s number. She pressed the call button, and waited for the number to autodial. The phone rang once and then went straight to voice mail. She hung up and tried again with the same result. The second time she left a message for her, then hung up, debating what to do.
She could walk back over to Erika’s. But the idea of being outside in the dark, already nervous, really didn’t appeal. She flipped back her phone, scrolling through the numbers, looking for someone to call and talk with until she calmed down.
Cherise’s number came up, and she considered calling her, but decided against it. Cherise had three children and was likely busy with them. She could call her mother—but Mom never really calmed her. In general, her parents just made her more tense.
Then she stopped scrolling on a number without a name. Maksim’s number. She had it in her phone from when she’d called him to tell him he had the volunteering position, but she didn’t bother to type in his name yet. Before she thought better of it, she pressed the green dial button. She watched somewhat dazed as it pronounced it was calling.
“Hello.” She heard Maksim’s deep voice even before the phone was to her ear. She didn’t speak. She just held the receiver to her ear, trying to decide if she should speak or if she should just hang up.
“Hello? Jo, is that you?”
She was silent a moment longer, then said, “Yeah, it’s me. How did you know?” Her voice sounded funny, breathy, hoarse.
“I saved your number when you called me the other day. Are you okay?” he asked.
Of course he had, just like she had. “Umm—yeah.”
There was silence on his end, then, “Why are you calling? Did you need something?”
God, she should just hang up.
“Jo?”
“I—I just…” What was she doing? What was she supposed to say?
“Jo, something is wrong. It has to be; otherwise, you’d never call me.”
His wry tone made her laugh slightly.
“Yeah, you got me there.”
“Thanks.”
She laughed again at the flatness of his voice.
“So what’s going on?” he asked.
She should just tell him it was something about the center. She needed him to work longer tomorrow. Something. But she didn’t.
“Nothing,” she said, “I’m just—being silly.”
“Well, you could use a little more silly, I think.”
She smiled. “You are probably right.”
“Glad to hear you are being agreeable. I’ll be right over.”
“No,” she said quickly. She didn’t know how she’d react to him being here now, when she was tired and vulnerable and not thinking clearly. “I was just having a little problem with nighttime nerves.
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