21. Jo
CHAPTER 21
Jo
Frankie is busy with her husband that evening, so it's no bother for Jo when Bill says he'd like to be the one to go for a walk. In fact, it's better for her if he goes and she manages bedtime for the children, as it gives her time to think while Kate negotiates extra stories, Nancy tries to hide the book she's reading beneath her pillow, and Jimmy ignores Jo's pleas to wash behind his ears and not to forget the back of his neck while he's getting ready for bed.
The letter she'd received from Martin Snell a few months earlier has been in her mind consistently ever since, and yet she can't bring herself to write what the literary agent had asked her to. Ever since the day she'd gotten the letter--the day after she and Bill had a falling out over the fact that he felt betrayed by her stories for the magazine--she's felt like she has a pill lodged in her throat that she can't quite swallow.
Nothing has fully distracted her from this sensation of unease, but she's had moments of feeling like herself. For instance, Jo and Nancy had embarked upon a mission to sew a dress together for Nancy's first middle school dance, and by the time the event rolled around in early May, they'd created a beautiful baby blue chiffon dress with little pink rosebuds sprinkled all over it. Nancy had been proud to have her parents drop her off at the middle school gym to meet her friends, and for that one evening, Jo had been entirely satisfied with something that she was involved in.
Her blooming friendship with Jude has also been a balm for her soul. Ever since meeting Jude two years prior, Jo has carried around a feeling in her heart that something wasn't quite right with Jude, and she's been extremely concerned about the other woman's drinking. So to have Jude open up to her and share her feelings has been incredibly gratifying, and Jo can only hope that her support has meant something to Jude. She thinks that it has, as she's noticed and felt an openness from Jude on the occasions that they're together.
But aside from these small distractions, Jo has been living with a kernel of doubt in her heart for six months now. She knows what she saw the night of the accident at Cape Kennedy when she stumbled out the door and found Bill with Jeanie Florence, and she knows she also saw her husband sharing what looked like an intimate moment with Jeanie in the parking lot of The Black Hole. Warning bells went off the very first time Jeanie called their home, despite the fact that, after meeting her, Jo actually quite liked the younger woman, and Jo does not take this little bit of women’s intuition lightly.
So putting her fingers to her typewriter and getting anything productive done has been a challenge. She's tried repeatedly to find a new story, a new angle, and to get excited about the fact that Mr. Snell has asked her for fifty pages of something new, but the longer she goes without producing anything, the more worried Jo feels that she might never be able to write anything again.
"Mom?" Jimmy calls from the hallway.
Jo is standing in the front room, re-shelving the vinyl albums that have been sitting next to the turntable.
"Yes, honey?"
"Do you know where my red and black striped shirt is?" Jo's lanky teenage son calls back. Jimmy has grown so much this past year, and now he's the same height as Jo, which always throws her. In addition, he's started to request that they call him Jim, rather than Jimmy, though both Jo and Bill forget most of the time.
"I folded it this afternoon," Jo says as she sets an album back on the console. "Let me find it."
It's these small tasks--these minuscule moments of motherhood--that make up Jo's days. Sure, she's carved out a corner of life for herself through her volunteering, and yes, she's even felt a flicker of some sort of joyful independence through her writing, but being a mother is and has always been the most important facet of her life.
As she pulls the laundry basket from its place atop the dryer, Jo reaches into the pile and pulls out her son's shirt. It's as she's holding it in her hands that she realizes how fleeting time is; before she knows it, Jimmy--Jim--will be driving. He'll ask to borrow the car. He'll have a girlfriend he'd rather spend time with than his own family. He'll graduate high school and leave for college. And who will he be when she's all done raising him? Who will she be when she's done raising her children?
The existential questions come hard and fast, and, without expecting it, Jo is suddenly crying as she stands before the dryer, holding her son's shirt. In her own mind, time is flying by, and suddenly she pictures herself with gray hair, standing here in the same spot, folding a basket of laundry that's much smaller without the dresses, shirts, socks, and pajamas of her children.
"Mommy?" Kate asks, touching Jo's back with her small hand. "Are you okay?"
Jo turns and looks down at her youngest daughter. "Oh, yes, sweetheart. I'm fine. I'm good." Jo forces a smile and wipes at her eyes. "Go jump into bed, okay? I'll be right there to read you some stories. I promise."
Kate does as she's asked, and Jo takes the shirt to Jimmy, rapping lightly at his door and then handing it to him when he opens it. He stands there in just a pair of pajama pants, his narrow ribcage visible as he towels off his damp hair.
"Thanks, Mom. Goodnight," Jimmy says, closing the door again. Even this is like a knife in Jo's heart, the simple fact that her little boy no longer needs or wants her to tuck him in. She sighs and stands there for a moment, wondering what it would feel like to be in Maxine's shoes, just starting all over with a brand-new baby. Or even in Frankie's shoes, as she prays for a first pregnancy to complete her little family with Ed.
"Okay, Kate," Jo calls out. "I'm coming. I hope you have stories picked out for us!"
She passes by Nancy's room, pausing in the doorway to look in at her daughter as she lays in her bed, holding up a book that blocks Jo's view of her face. Jo stands there for a moment, reveling in the peaceful feeling that comes with having all of her kids there, safe, and doing what they're supposed to be doing. It's when she climbs into bed with Kate and starts to read the first book that she hears the front door open and close. Bill is home, and suddenly, that feeling of a pill that's stuck in her throat returns.
Jo swallows around it and keeps reading.