So with the ladies gone, and life under control at Lisa’s, Pam had only Jason’s betrayal to think about, and it was making her crazy. Maddeningly, he’d been at Jeff’s since Saturday night, so she didn’t even feel like she could take a walk on the beach without running into him. It was such a passive-aggressive move for Jason and Pam wished there was a way to get him back to Philadelphia. She wondered if Jeff had anything to do with it, paranoia about his betrayal having its roots in her hurt feelings.
Looking for anything to help her forget the wedding mess, a complete home makeover came to mind. Years had passed since she’d had any major work done and it was usually by Jack’s prompting. After touring a restoration for work, he’d come home and start analyzing their house. “The tile in the kid’s bathroom is so passé. On Thursday, I saw a bathroom with glass tile; it was fabulous.” Or “Butcher block in the kitchen is gross. We need to replace it with granite.” But now the kitchen just looked tired, her former shabby chic decorating simply shabby. It would be the first project on her list
Pouring a fresh cup of coffee, with the yellow pages out she sat at the counter to look through the contractor's section. There were at least twenty, so she narrowed it down by choosing the local companies. There was just one.
“This is easy!” she said, dialing the number.
“Babylon Construction,” a cheerful female voice said. Pam introduced herself and explained she was ready for a kitchen remodel.
“Okay,” the voice said. “John will be at the beach this morning checking on another job. Can he stop by around lunchtime to take a look?” Pam was happy he could get there so fast. The ideal, albeit unrealistic conclusion, would be to have it finished before their vacation was over.
It was just past nine, plenty of time to go beachcombing, worries about running into Jason notwithstanding. Every morning he’d stop in front of her house bending over to tie his shoes and Pam felt like he did it on purpose. An old pellet gun of Jack’s was in the garage and the temptation to shoot Jason in the rear was strong, but she didn’t have the courage. Grabbing a plastic trash bag and her straw hat, she stepped out onto the wooden walkway. The weathered redwood with sand seeping up between the slats beckoned memories. Remembering that summer so long ago, it seemed like a million years had passed. Why didn’t she show more appreciation for what she had at the time? Before Jack built the walkway, beach roses had grown in the sand around a slate patio. The improvement of the walkway aside, it was about the effort it took Jack to build it. He wasn’t a man who liked household projects or chores. “Hire someone,” he always said. But there was something about seeing his mother in a leg cast trying to be brave, hating people to wait on her that made him want to attempt the project as an act of love. He even said the house felt more like his after he put his sweat into it.
Now, the offspring of those early roses were still blooming in abundance. Pam walked north, avoiding having to pass Jeff’s house, with eyes sweeping the sand for anything glistening, memories delighting her mind while she looked for beach treasure.
The summer of the walkway was one of laughter and joy for the Smith family. For the first time, Jack took time off to work on the house. She remembered him pacing in his den office, making call after call, canceling appointments, rescheduling meetings. Afterward, he was so proud of his accomplishments that he took photographs of Pam and the kids surrounding Bernice’s wheelchair on the walkway and had the best one framed. It still hung in their…her bedroom. Maybe it was time to move the print to the den.
The fiasco with Jason was such cliché; maybe she’d reached an age where she could no longer have an intimacy with another person. Certainly, she didn’t trust Jason; she knew that could have been the potential problem. Yet she wasn’t the one to stand him up. It was simply a big mistake to think she’d get married again.
The humiliation aside, it seemed to Pam that Jason standing her up at the altar had worked out for the best after all and having come to that conclusion, she’d forgive him. She’d forgive Jeff, as well, it too difficult living next door to someone you were trying to avoid. They’d acted like jerks, but she was just as much to blame because she had expectations of them, in spite of recognizing their unreliability.
When she got home, she’d spent more time on the beach than she realized and it was almost noon. John from Babylon Construction Company would be there soon to look at her kitchen. Walking into her shaded bedroom, the calm, serene atmosphere pleased her. No matter what she did to it, that room would always be the one she shared with Jack. Unfortunately, she was beginning to feel like somewhat the tart having shared it with two other men already….it might be time for a new mattress again, just for proprieties sake.
Standing in front of the mirror, she was reapplying her lipstick when the doorbell rang. Natalie must have come down from her room because she hollered, “I’ll get it!” Having Natalie around was like having an uncomplicated companion who never required anything. She was content to read around the clock, noshing on whatever she could find in the house to eat. She preferred lying in bed to read, throwing open the windows to the balcony overlooking the water.
“I could stay here forever,” she said. “If Ben would only move down here, that is.”
“He likes his environment,” Pam suggested.
“He’s stuck in a rut,” Natalie replied. “Upstate New York is so laid back, he could spend a week watching old movies on TV and not even notice the passing of time. He doesn’t like to visit me in the Village. And he’s not comfortable at Jeff’s. I think it has something to do with Ted although he won’t admit it.” Pam giggled, understanding why Ben might be jealous of Ted because Natalie had confessed she’d slept with Ted.
“You can’t blame him, can you?”
“Oh, he doesn’t know about that,” she said. “And you’ve seen for yourself there is no chemistry between Ted and I. Sister and brother might have more.” Pam didn’t think he had much personality to begin with, and Natalie was blaming herself for their strange relationship.
“Can I tell you a secret?”
“Sure,” Natalie said. “Is it something juicy?”
“No, no, nothing like that. It’s just that I think you underestimate your value.” Natalie reached over and grabbed her hand.
“Ha! That makes two of us.”
Natalie was standing at the front door when Pam came out of her bedroom to great John. Later, Pam remembered it appeared everything was happening in slow motion. Natalie’s eyes blinking as she turned from John to acknowledge Pam, John’s double take when he saw Pam, the way Natalie sensed something was taking place that her presence might disrupt, so she excused herself although they didn’t noticed. They made eye contact, and she couldn’t take her eyes off his.
“Hi, Mrs. Smith? I’m John Zapelli.” Pam extended her hand, but the name and the face were familiar. She tried to place him and then he solved the mystery for her, noticing the confusion.
“I did your veranda. It’s been a while, over fifteen years,” he said.
“Oh dear, it’s been longer than that,” she said. “Of course, John. I thought we’d already met, but my mind was not cooperating.”
“When you booked the appointment, I recognized the address. Thank you for calling again.”
John Zapelli was divorced, two years now, and ready for a relationship again. When Cassandra left, he thought he’d die. The children kept him going. Grown and on their own, except for Violet who had just moved home again, they seemed to need him more now that their mother was off doing her own thing. The effort he made was for them.
Every Sunday they got together at each other’s houses for lunch. Last Sunday, Violet said something about him joining a dating site.
“Dad it’s the only way you’ll meet anyone. When do you go out? You have your groceries delivered, so you can’t even do the Friday night grocery store thing. The internet is your last resort.” He’d agreed to do it when he had time.
Meeting someone on the job wa
s never something he thought would be a possibility. He knew of the Smith’s and remembered when Jack Smith died because it was all over the papers. And then when the son was murdered, interest in the family was renewed for a brief time. It touched his heart that she’d recently lost a child and he tried to keep his face expressionless, knowing his emotions would surface if he weren't careful.
“It’s a kitchen remodel you’re going for, is that correct?”
“Yes, I have a very short window of time to do the work. It might sound unreasonable; my mother and mother-in-law are on a cruise for a couple of weeks so I thought I’d have it done while they’re away. I like the floor plan, so new surfaces and appliances should do it for me.” He followed her into the vast space and chuckled at the time constraints. She turned to look at him.
“Anything’s possible,” he said, smiling. “The cabinets were top of the line when they were new, just need refinishing, if I can find someone to do it right away. What did you have in mind for countertops?”
“I was thinking quartz or marble. I’m tired of the granite and it’s tired of me.”
“Ha!” he started laughing. “Well, that might tack time onto the project, just so you know.” He was measuring and jotting down notes. Looking out at the view, he whistled. “Wow, that’s amazing.”
“Do you live here in town?” Pam asked.
“I do, actually I live on a canal. But there is nothing like an ocean view. This wall,” he pointed to the wall between the den and the kitchen. “What’s on the other side of it?”
“Just a den with fireplace,” she answered, walking to the doorway. He followed her in, looking around, impressed.
“Boy, this woodwork is exquisite. Did you ever think of tearing down the wall? You’d have to make a decision about your kitchen cabinets, of course. Antique white might look okay with all this dark wood.”
“You mean, make it one big space? I don’t know. I’ve never been much for the open floor plan.”
“Me neither, but if you ever sell, it’s what all the buyers want now days.”
“I hope I never have to leave here,” Pam said passionately, embarrassed she felt the need to share that with a stranger.
“If I had this place, I wouldn’t leave either. It’s amazing. How’s the veranda working for you?”
“The veranda? Oh my, it’s the best place in the house. Come out with me. I’ve had it enclosed in the past year, but it still feels open to the water.” They stepped out and the smell of the sea hit them. The sunlight dappled the water, surface calm with gentle waves lapping the shoreline.
“Wow, I remember this well. I felt like I should have been paying you while I was working on it,” he said, deadpan. She burst out laughing. It felt great to be silly.
“I hope the kitchen has the same effect on you,” she replied, indescribably happy.
“Ah, I was hoping you’d give me the job.”
“But of course! When you can start?” she asked cautiously.
“I think we can start this week if I rearrange a few things. Those counters might be a problem. What’s your deadline again?”
“Two weeks from today,” she said, looking at her watch. “They should be at sea by now.”
“I have to be honest with you. Two weeks might be a stretch. I’ll get the messy stuff out of the way ASAP, but finishing might be a problem. I’ll speak to the refinisher I was telling you about. If he can do it, we might be in good shape.”
“Okay, that sounds like a deal,” Pam said, putting her hand out. Afterward thought it peculiar that she’d offered her hand, but he took it without hesitation and gave it a good squeeze. Hoping he might hold on to it, he didn’t linger. Regrettably, it appeared he was going to be all business.
“Great! I’d like to take you to the stone warehouse and an appliance showroom. I’ll set up appointments this afternoon and call you tonight with times. Does that sound like a plan?”
“Yes! Fabulous,” she said, almost giddy. After he had left, she wondered if her joy was from getting to choose a new dishwasher or having met a great new man. And he wasn’t wearing a ring. Completely unlike any man she’d been attracted to in the past he appeared to be closer to her age. Heavier built but not portly, probably because of doing construction work, he wasn’t a gym rat either. His hair looked like he might use one of those products to take some but not all of the gray out of your hair. After prissy Jason, John Zapelli was a refreshing change. He reminded Pam of Jack with his subtle sarcasm and wit. And he was a professional. Although there may have been a moment when he first saw her and a second or two as he was leaving that Pam thought he was showing an interest in her, he was completely professional. Looking out of the sidelight after he left, she could see his fancy truck while he took his time walking down the path, admiring her plantings. Watching him bend over to pluck a spent blossom off a lily and stick the petals in his pocket before he got into his truck, she decided she was definitely interested in him.
Debating whether to get back into the gym habit or go for a second beach combing that day, the beach won out.
Driving along the serpentine beach road after leaving Pam’s house, John Zapelli felt a tickle of excitement in his throat. He was no Romeo, but if memory served, a woman who smiled and giggled, and was as animated as she was that afternoon might be interested in him. Unpretentious for a woman of her standing, Pam’s warmth was relaxing and her friendliness caught him off guard. He tried to remember what she was like so many years ago, but her husband’s dominating personality overshadowed hers completely. A vague memory of a very young, gorgeous blond woman in capris and high heels, holding a baby on her hip came to him. She’d aged well, but there was sadness about her in spite of her jocularity. The town gossip hadn’t escaped him, and the pain she’d gone through after the death of her son made him uncomfortable. The only tragedy he’d ever experienced was the divorce from Cassandra, and the pain of having to see her driving around town with her new boyfriend was crushing.
When he got back to his office, he set up appointments for Pam at the best showrooms around, to show her quality products but not to exploit her wealth. Set for the next day, he’d usually suggest meeting at these places, but since he wanted to spend the time with her, he offered to pick her up and drive her around. Preparing for the appointments like it was a date; he abandoned his regular denim work shirt and wore a white dress shirt, instead. Daughter Violet was on to him right away.
“Okay, Dad, where are you headed?”
“I’ve got an appointment with the owner of a house over on Sea View. We’re going to Ferry Stone and Marble.”
“Oh, I love that place,” Violet said. “If I ever move out, that’s where I’m going.”
“Ferry Stone?”
“No, Sea View, although I’d cover the floors with Ferry Stone,” Violet answered, laughing.
“You better make some money then,” John said, peeling an orange. “I can’t even afford it.”
“Dad, I’ve meant to tell you something about Mom. We didn’t want to upset you at Sunday lunch.” John’s heart sunk. Even though he thought he was over Cassandra, they’d been together for thirty years. Getting over her abandonment quickly wasn’t happening for him, as much as he longed for it.
“What is it?” Pausing at the kitchen sink, he suddenly lost his appetite for the orange and offered it to Violet, but she shook her head, fruit too healthy for her liking.
“She’s getting married Saturday.”
“To Mark?” While John tried to hide his sadness at hearing the news, Violet nodded her head. Mark Carrier, Mayor pro-tem. When the former mayor of Jamesville, Charlie Boggs resigned a year earlier because he needed a liver transplant, Mark was next in line. For the past year, the local papers were in heaven with all the latest gossip about Mark and his entourage in their hired cars, helicopter trips to Atlantic City, escorts and worse. Now Cassandra was going to marry him. John couldn’t believe it. The only good thing about it was that Mark lived in Jamesville
and once Cassandra moved in with him, John hoped he wouldn’t have to see her as much.
“Well, it had to happen sooner or later,” he answered, resigned and surprisingly relieved. “I hope they’ll be very happy together.”
“Dad, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” he replied. “It’s so over, now it’s really over.” He pulled Violet over to him, chuckling. “The key is for you not to be upset. You or the others. If that were to happen, then I would be sad. I guess you’re going, right?”
“To the wedding? Yeah, I sort of have to. The others have their differing feelings; Billy is probably the angriest. He’s pissed off at Mom, but he’s trying to find a way to use Mark to further his cause.”
“Is he going into politics?” Guiltily, they started to laugh.
“No, not yet.”
“I didn’t think so,” John said. “The last time I spoke with Billy, he had a scheme that was a sure fire winner. Luckily, I was out of money so couldn’t take advantage of it.”
“What about Debbie?” Debbie was John and Cassandra’s second child, a carbon copy of Cassandra, already a wife, mother and expert on relationships.
“She’s disgusted as we all are. But she's got a family and her energy is spent taking care of them. As long as Mother doesn’t try to push her around, she’ll support her.”
Looking off into space, John chuckled. This was not the way he thought he’d spend his golden years.
“Dad, I’m so sorry.” Violet felt awful about everything; her parent’s divorce, Mother remarrying, Billy’s inability to hold a job. Now, she was living home again, unemployed after one of the big electrical giants bought out her company. Struggling to complete her master’s in record time, she hoped she’d get another job right away.
“What’re you sorry about?”
“I know you’d sell this place if I weren't here. It’s too big and full of memories.”
“The memories of you kids are keeping me going right now,” he replied. “I never intended on selling. And you make good coffee.”
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