Jolene gathered with her family, put her arm around Betsy （how thin her elder daughter was, how gangly） and Lulu （her baby）。 Michael stepped in behind her. At Tami’s say cheese, they smiled.
Flash.
Then Betsy and Michael drifted away, went outside. Jolene stood there, watching them leave.
Tami took her hand, squeezed it. “Hey there,” she said softly.
Jolene shook her head a little, forced a smile. They walked out to the deck, still holding hands. By now, it was dark. A full moon illuminated the sharp, jagged, snow-covered peaks and sent streamers across the waves.
At the end of the deck, Carl stood beside Michael. Even from here, it was easy to see how uncomfortable they were with each other, these two men with nothing in common except their wives’ friendship. Michael’s hands were shoved deep in his pockets; he bounced slightly on the balls of his feet. The cool night air ruffled his black hair.
Seth walked down to the beach with Lulu. At the waterline, they crouched down, looking at something. Jolene could tell that Betsy wanted to follow, but she held back.
“Go on, Betsy,” Jolene urged quietly. It took a moment, but Betsy finally started moving, walked down the deck steps and across the sandy beach. At her approach, Seth looked up, smiled shyly.
“What are they going to do without us?” Jolene said quietly.
“What are we going to do without them?” was Tami’s reply.
They stood there until the air turned cold in their nostrils and the breeze graduated to a wind, until Carl and Michael had stopped pretending they had something to say to each other. Then the Flynns went into the restaurant and Jolene’s family went home.
By the time they’d parked the car and gone back into the warm, golden house, the mood had grown solemn. Even Lulu seemed affected.
“Mommy,” Lulu said as they came into the family room. “You’ll be back for my birthday, won’t you?”
Betsy rolled her eyes.
“Not before your birthday, Lulu. But Daddy’s going to make sure you have a nice party.”
“Oh.” Lulu scrunched her face in thought. “What if I lose a tooth? You’ll come home for that, won’t you?”
Michael sat down and turned on the TV.
Betsy made a sound of pure frustration and left the room. The sound of her footsteps on the stairs reverberated through the house.
“What about bedtime stories? Who will read to me?” Lulu said, frowning.
“Lulu, honey, put your toys away. I’ll be right back.”
Feeling shaky, Jolene followed Betsy up the stairs and knocked on her door.
“Go away,” Betsy screamed.
“You don’t mean that,” Jolene said. “Not tonight.”
There was a long pause, then: “Fine. Come in.”
Jolene walked into the bedroom and went to the bed.
Betsy didn’t move sideways, but Jolene sat down beside her anyway. She put an arm around her daughter and pulled her close.
“I’m trying, Mom,” Betsy said at last.
“I know.”
“On the news—”
“Don’t watch the news, Betsy. It won’t help.”
“What will?”
Jolene sighed. “I’ll tell you what. Let’s synchronize our watches’ alarms. That way when the alarms go off, we’ll think of each other at that second.”
“Okay.”
In silence, they set their alarms.
“I shouldn’t have said that about the dog tags…” Betsy said, her voice uneven.
“It’s okay, Betsy.”
“I’ll miss you,” Betsy said after a minute. “I don’t know why I’m being so mean to you…”
“I know, baby. I was twelve once. And you’ve got a lot to worry about right now.” Jolene kissed Betsy’s cheek.
They sat there, holding each other for a long time. In the quiet, Jolene felt as if she were coming undone. How could she leave tomorrow, walk away from her family, say good-bye to her children?
She wanted to tell Betsy everything she would need to know for her whole life—just in case, to warn her about sex and boys and drugs and makeup, about social politics and college admissions and bad choices. But it was too early—and too late.
Finally, she kissed her daughter’s cheek, said, “Are you ready to come back downstairs?” and got up.
“I don’t feel like watching TV. I think I’ll read,” Betsy said.
Jolene could hardly challenge that. She didn’t really want to go back downstairs, either. “Okay.”