It’s so nice having you here,” Pam said. “You are the most unobtrusive house guest! Come anytime.”
“Well, it’s been the most relaxing five days I’ve ever had. But I guess reality is setting in because my daughter called and said there’s no food in the apartment. Ha! I really am a mom.”
“Yes you are,” Pam replied, hugging her. Pam teared up, surprised but pleased, too. “We are friends.”
“That we are. Good luck with hunk John! He makes old Jason look like a weasel.” Pam gasped, embarrassed for Jason.
“He had his good points,” Pam said, uncertainly.
“Well, I know you’ll defend him as you do all of us, so I won’t argue. But the best thing that ever happened to you was when that Italian guy walked through your door.” She made a sweeping motion with her arm to indicate the kitchen in the beginnings of a transformation.
“Italian guy? Who the heck are you talking about?” Pam asked, puzzled. “Jack was Jewish and Jason’s Scotch.”
Natalie smirked and shook her head. “You really are a dumb blond, you know that?”
“What!” Pam yelled laughing. “Who’s Italian?”
“Zapelli? John Zapelli?” Natalie answered. “Honest to God Pam, what the fuck?” They were laughing, Pam holding her head and Natalie, roaring.
“Oh, how embarrassing,” Pam said. “I didn’t even think of it being his name. It was the construction company’s name. Thank heaven it hasn’t come up in conversation. But it’s sort of cool, isn’t it? My dad was born in Sardinia.”
“No one is actually born in Sardinia. Why would they leave?”
“It was after World War I,” she said. “I should have asked my grandmother more about it. We lived in her house in Brooklyn, in the house where I was raised.” Natalie slid onto the stool next to Pam. The counter facing the ocean view was the one place John’s crew hadn’t touched yet.
“Tell me about growing up in Brooklyn? I was raised downtown. In Greenwich Village. I can’t imagine living in Brooklyn.”
“It was probably not that different at the time. You’re about mid-forties, correct?”
“Almost fifty,” Natalie said, frowning. “I remember us being freaks, living where we did. My parents both taught school. NYU, just like me. We were in a building of transients in the middle of a transient neighborhood congested with students and hippies. A mom and pop and their nerdy daughter.”
“Well, hindsight; Brooklyn was wonderful,” Pam said wistfully. “I wanted to get out of it all my life and then when I finally did, I missed it. Manhattan, Bernice, I hated all the social stuff I was expected to participate in because I’d married a Smith. Junior League, Children’s Hospital Charity, you name it; I was too shy for that lifestyle.
“For a short time, I considered leaving Jack. Oh my God, I just remembered that! I guess I did have limits, after all. Its amazing isn’t it. How much you can lie to yourself?” She considered what she’d just confessed to Natalie and the shock of it that she had faced the truth about their marriage at one time stunned her. “I can’t believe I dredged it up.”
“You did an excellent job pulling it together. Long marriages are rare, and they are usually not as happy as everyone thinks they are. Of course, I am making my statement based on observation. My parents, for one, who have been married for fifty-five years. The bickering! Oy vey is mir.”
Pam laughed at Natalie’s description of her parents. “My parents were in love. But Nelda didn’t handle marriage or motherhood very well. She’s regretful now, has done the work to try to make up for it where she’s able. You know the drill; guilt, going overboard trying to be helpful.
“One of my sisters was born with a birth defect that required lots of surgeries and time in the hospital. It took a toll on Nelda. I often wonder why my father didn’t step it up. He was a wonderful man, loving father. But he was set in the roll of what a man did and didn’t do back then. My mother was exhausted from being at the hospital around the clock and trying to keep things running smoothly at home, yet my grandmother was there. I don’t remember her helping much at all, but my mother says that she wouldn’t have survived that time if it weren’t for her.
“Then she got pregnant with Marie. Marie meant everything to me when I was a little girl. You can imagine; my mother was unable to take care of her, so I just naturally slid into the roll of her caretaker. I don’t know what else to call it. I’d come home from school; I was only ten remember, and I could hear the screams of an infant coming from the house while I was walking from the bus stop. Nelda would be frantic, waiting for me.
“‘Take her please,’ she’d plead. Still in my uniform, I’d drag the buggy down the stoop and Nelda would put Marie inside and run back up into the house, slamming the door. From the time I got home from school until after dinner, I’d take care of the baby. Nelda nursed her, and it was while she was feeding that I’d start my homework. Fortunately, she was usually okay in the evenings and I could continue to study. But it was that afternoon fussy period that drove my mother crazy. She said she never bonded with her.”
“Oh, I am so sorry,” Natalie said, sadly. “It must have been horrible for both of you.”
“I have wonderful memories of playing with her, like she was a little doll. I’d rock her and sing to her, dress her up, bathe her. When she had colic, Nelda would bring her into my bed when she couldn’t take it anymore. ‘See if you can calm her down.’ It was okay during on the weekends, but during the week, she’d still expect me to get up for school. My father finally intervened by getting Nelda to take over. He never took care of her that I can remember. In fact, I don’t think I saw my father carrying any of the girls when they were small. Susan wore a heavy brace for years and my mother would struggle under the weight.
“When Marie became ill, Nelda was at her bedside around the clock for the entire year. I was at odds with Marie. After a lifetime of being best friends, I finally had trouble forgiving her for betraying me with Jack.”
“Wait, Jack was with Marie, too?”
“Ashton must have told you,” Pam said.
“No, I don’t think he knew about that one.” Natalie was appalled but didn’t want to make Pam feel worse.
“Well, maybe Jack was actually ashamed of it. He began abusing her when she was fifteen. Then of course, she grew up and it continued until he started to date Sandra, just as Ashton said. Sandra was the only one he’d make an effort to stay faithful to.”
“Of course, you couldn’t have had an inkling what was going on.”
“I must have buried it. I mean, there were times I was confused because I felt jealous of the attention he was giving her. When I confronted him, he always had an excuse. If you’d known Jack, you’d understand. He was so charming. And a liar. I was no match for him. But I loved my sister so much. I practically raised her.”
“You were telling me about taking care of her. What happened as she got older?”
“She preferred me over Nelda. It caused jealousy between my mother and I. Marie was spoiled because of it,” Pam said. “I couldn’t stand to see Marie upset about anything, so I was very permissive. When Jack and I started to date, she was just miserable, and then when we got married, she was with me every weekend and all summer long until she went to college. I never needed to seek out other women for friendship because Marie and I had each other. She never dated either and I didn’t think anything of it. My mother said once, ‘Isn’t it a little weird that your sister never dates?’ So I asked Jack and his response was that she was probably a lesbian.”
Natalie gasped. “He said that to cover his own ass!” Pam nodded.
“Exactly. After Jack had died, the only reason I discovered the truth about Marie and Jack was because she saw Jack and Sandra together the day he died. Marie was uptown at a friend’s house and on the way home that morning she saw them on the street together. Marie wanted Sandra to know she couldn’t have been that great if Jack were still seeing her. The consequence of it was me findin
g out. I was in a state of shock. Ha! Let me tell you, Sandra was not happy about it either.
“Sandra looked down her nose at my sister, and the idea that Jack would find her appealing must have been a shock to her system.” Natalie scratched her head.
“Boy, that Sandra is a piece of work. But you do know that Jason wasn’t seeing her.”
“Natalie, yes he was. I caught them together twice now. Once last year and Saturday night. Have you forgotten already?”
“But I think it was just a weird friendship,”
“Well, whatever it was, he lied about it. And she’s supposed to be my friend.”
“Oh Pam. Dearest Pam. All the clichés are valid! A zebra doesn’t change its stripes. It was very noble of you to forgive her, but she isn’t to be trusted.”
“I know that now. Really, I’m fine about Jason. I feel like he saved me from more heartache by standing me up. I didn’t love him, and he didn’t love me.”
“And that makes you available!” Natalie said as Pam started to laugh again.
“Yes it does. I’m not looking though.”
“You don’t have to, because he just pulled up in your driveway,” Natalie said, getting up from the stool. “Just in time for me to catch my train.”
“I’ll call for a car,” Pam said, distracted, going to the door. She could see John walking up the walkway and she liked the way he looked. He was handsome and masculine. She bet he wore underwear with an athlete’s name on the label and not a chi-chi designer brand. Giggling, she filed that thought away for another time. He was with a man who was carrying a large tool case. Opening the door for him, Pam’s heart skipped a beat. John’s smile was unmistakable; he was happy to see her because she was Pam, not just another client.
Chapter 11
“Call on line two, Miss Benson,” Alison said over the intercom. Sandra was busy trying to catch up and show a little interest in a job that was turning out to be a grinding bore. It was Friday, and she was already behind for the week. Peter Romney, her business partner, let her have it on Wednesday.
“I’m glad to see you decided to join us today,” he said sarcastically when they passed in the hall that morning. Valarie’s train from the Bronx stopped in a tunnel for thirty minutes, delaying everyone. Rather than explaining to him, she ignored it.
“Thank you, Peter,” she said, smirking as she walked by to her office. But he wasn’t finished.
“Are you a full partner or not?” Amazed, she stopped at her office door and turned to him.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked, noticing employees scurrying to their offices. Fights between Sandra and Peter were becoming more frequent and at higher decibels.
“What it means is that you’re paid a hell of a lot of money and for the past two months you’d done very little to earn it.”
“You’ve got a lot of nerve, Peter. Write me a memo if you have anything more to say.” She went into her office and slammed the door. Later, Allison told her Peter fled about ten minutes after their argument, slamming doors behind him. Peace permeated the entire space as soon as he left. Working diligently to make amends, it was true that she’d been skating by since Brent’s birth. And the months leading up to Pam’s wedding were grueling.
Sandra thought Peter’s attitude had definitely deteriorated since Jason stood Pam up, and Sandra wasn’t in the congregation.
“Where were you on Saturday? It looked wrong, Sandra. We were all there, sitting in the front rows like her family and you were nowhere to be seen.”
“Brent was sick. What of it?” But he gave her suspicious looks that day and by Wednesday couldn’t stand it anymore and had to confront her. She hadn’t seen him since.
“Alison, who is it?” Sandra frowned at the intercom when she heard who the caller was, picking up the phone.
“What do you want?”
“That’s not a very friendly way to answer the phone. What if I had real estate I wanted to be surveyed?”
“Do you?”
“No.”
“Well, what do you want? Get it out, will you, please? I don’t have all day.” They bantered for five full minutes until Sandra had enough.
“I’ve got to get back to work,” she said. “Tell me why you called or hang up.”
“Have lunch with me. I’ll tell you then.”
“Okay, but I won’t have very long. Meet me at the diner under the Brooklyn Bridge.”
“That place is a dump,” the caller said.
“I like it and that’s where I want to go. I’m hanging up now,” she said and didn’t wait for his reply. Two seconds later Allison buzzed again.
“Call on line two,” she said.
“Is it the same person?”
“No, this is Pete Porter.” Sandra grimaced, pain zipping through her head. How did he even find out where she worked?
“Thank you,” Sandra said, picking up the phone.
“Hello, Pete,” she said.
“Do you have AIDS?” An another pulse of pain through her head, this time the name Jason Bridges accompanied it.
“No, I don’t. But you don’t want to call me at work to have this conversation, do you?” Her heart was pounding. She wasn’t telling him she was HIV positive, there was no reason. They’d always used protection and she was healthy from taking her medication.
“I could come into the city to have it, if you’d like,” he said sarcastically. “Why would your old-man boyfriend tell me you had it if you don’t?”
“I’m not sure, Pete. He must have found out about us and is trying to scare you. I’d be more worried about my job if I were you.” Hitting a nerve, there was silence for a few seconds.
“I would have been fired by now if he knew about us,” he replied.
“Well, I don’t have AIDS. And if I remember correctly, you kicked me out your apartment because I offered to pay your way through college mean old-lady that I am. Don’t call again unless you want to hear from my lawyer.” She hung up, sick to her stomach. Debating whether to call Jason and tell him off next, she made the decision to wait and do it when she got home from work. As so often happens, when one bad behavior is exposed, another crops up to increase the humiliation. What more could happen that week?
Guilt about Pam snowballing, the realization that she destroyed the one true friendship she ever had filled her with shame. “How could I have been so stupid?” Pride paralyzed her from trying to contact Pam. Was it too late? Thinking about her son, about his innocence and dependence on her for everything, she was determined to reform. But regrets for hurting Pam were building. Calling her, apologizing, and making sure Pam knew she was Jason’s friend only was a top priority, if she could find the courage. But the guilt wasn’t enough to prevent her from other bad behavior.
Gathering her belongings, she decided she was going to go home after lunch. “Allison, field my calls will you? I’m going to lunch then straight home.” She went out the back elevator, which led out to the street. Hailing a cab, traffic wasn’t bad for Friday lunchtime. She arrived at the diner under the Brooklyn Bridge and looked up just as her lunch date got out of his car. Perfect timing.
Pam’s kitchen was on the way to renovation. The refinisher John brought over on Friday took the drawers and cabinet tops back to his shop. Boxes of cutlery, kitchen towels, spices, and junk filled her pantry. Fortunately, she wasn’t a pack rat so the drawers didn’t contain much. John was working with the countertop company, measuring for the template they’d use to cut the quartz. Watching them working, Pam allowed herself to think of John in terms of a possible romance.
Dinner Thursday after they’d picked out the slab for her countertop was relaxing and romantic. “Let’s have Italian,” John said when they were trying to decide where to go.
“Oh, so many calories,” Pam moaned.
“You can afford it,” he said, taking her hand. He held the door for her; it was an old-fashioned, family restaurant with Chianti bottles on the table for candleholders, red
and white checked table clothes and a strolling violinist.
Turning to look at John, who was smiling at her, she could see he’d picked it on purpose. “No way,” she said. “I’ve heard about places like this but thought they were only downtown.”
“Nope, right here in Babylon.” They ate white fish sautéed in wine, fresh spinach, a big salad, and John’s one concession to calories, risotto.
Sharing a bottle of wine, they lingered long after their meal was over. Pam knew by the end of the evening that she was going to give John the green light if he asked her out again. No warning bells rang as they did with Dan because of his youth, or Jason because of his devotion to his late wife. John was a regular guy. He’d been hurt, but he was bouncing back.
“Have you dated much?” Pam asked gently.
“No, not at all. The reason I got married in the first place was so I never had to go on a date again. It was torture when I was single. The thought of having to be someone I’m not, well it’s not pleasant.”
“Don’t be someone you’re not then. Just be yourself.” John laughed.
“Right,” he replied sarcastically.
“I think you’re very nice. Are you yourself tonight?”
Later, Pam confessed to Natalie that John looked into her eyes with such intensity that she’d forgotten what she’d just asked him.
“I am. I’m very relaxed.”
“Do you feel like I’m torturing you?” Pam asked grinning.
“Not at all,” John said, laughing. “I get it.”
“So dating wouldn’t be much different than what we’re doing here,” Pam said.
“Have you dated a lot?”
“You could say that,” she answered with a smirk.
“Anyone seriously? Oh wait, what am I saying You just told me you were engaged. Sorry,” John said, embarrassed. “I think that guy was a jerk.”
“He saved me from what would have been a terrible marriage so I’m grateful for that.”
While Pam and John skirted around the issue that they were attracted to each other, Jason was in Philadelphia, lonely and miserable. Confronting Pete didn’t give him the satisfaction he expected. Pete showed up for work the next day but gave Jason a wide berth. Now that Sandra was out of the picture, Jason was counting on Pete to be the go to guy when he wanted to take the boat out for a spin, but Pete was busy taking care of the other residents. The temptation to tell the board about Pete’s indiscretion was intense because then he’d be available to Jason alone after they fired him. The caveat was that it would mean exposure for Jason, and a large chunk of cash out of pocket to pay Pete’s salary. He decided not to do anything rash, but wait and see, maybe in time he’d grow used to being without a travel partner.
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