Dream Lover: Pam of Babylon Book #3

by Suzanne Jenkins

  “Hi Jean!” Pam said to the girl closest to her. “I’ll take a half pound of potato salad.” The young woman looked right at Pam, but didn’t acknowledge her. She opened the deli case and straightened the serving spoons, turning her back on Pam. She walked away and started to fuss with some paper supplies. Pam was confused for a second; Jean had looked right at her. “Jean, could I have a half pound of potato salad, please?” Maybe because she didn’t say ‘please’? Pam thought. Again, she was ignored. The other clerk, a surly young woman Pam remembered from Lisa’s soft ball team as Marion, stood off to the side with a smirk on her face. Pam was baffled. She didn’t recall ever having a problem with either employee until the summer, being ignored by the two of them, and that memory made her angry. She was tempted to walk away as she had that time weeks ago, but she really want that damn potato salad.

  “Jean. Marion. Would one of you please wait on me?” Neither girl responded. So Pam did something so out of character she shocked even herself. She picked up her purse, and leaving her cart in front of the deli case, walked around through the ‘employees only’ area to get her own order. Marion yelled out,

  “Get out of here! What are you doing?” She came over to Pam and made a motion to grab her arm. “Get out of here! I don’t even want to touch you without gloves, you skank!” Not quite getting it yet, not thinking about her health or that anyone could know anything about her private life; Pam immediately thought maybe Marion knew something about Jack. Maybe she heard about him. It made her ill. She suddenly lost her taste for Organic Bonanza’s Potato Salad. She turned to walk back to her cart when the store manager appeared.

  “What’s going on here?” He asked. Mrs. Smith was a longtime customer, a faithful big spender. Why she was behind the deli counter was strange enough, but if she wanted to get her own order, he’d see to it that she could. There seemed to be more going on than just dishing up salad however; the two clerks standing apart with one of them in an aggressive stance toward Pam. “Can I help you with anything, Mrs. Smith? What’s going on Marion?” He said her name slowly, elongating the vowels, narrowing his eyes.

  “Dave, you can see what’s going on,” the young woman said. “She came around back here to dish up her own salad, touching the spoons without gloves on. It’s enough to make me sick,” she said.

  “Marion, go to the office right now. Jean,” he said, looking at the other clerk, “go with her. Mrs. Smith, do you want to tell me what’s happening?” He softly spoke to Pam, his body language eager to help her. He glared at the clerks. “Go, now!” he said to them. It took her awhile, but Pam finally got what it was all about. Somehow, they knew she had AIDS. What she thought was such a well-kept secret was known by two young women, contemporaries of her children. If she didn’t act quickly, someone might tell Lisa and Brent that their mother was infected with the AIDS virus, and she didn’t want that. It didn’t matter how they knew, and then she remembered that Jean, the older of the two had a sister who was a nurse in the Emergency Room at the hospital. Would she have found out Pam’s health condition and told her family? The store manager was standing there, and although Pam wanted to just shake it off and walk away, something told her that now was the time to take a stand.

  “Those young women are very rude, I am so sorry to say. When I have come into the store for the past several months, since my husband died to be exact, they have ignored my requests for help. I am about ready to shop elsewhere.” Pam couldn’t help herself; she started laughing. “That’s a lie; I love it here. But I do miss getting things from the deli. The manager went right behind the counter and got her order for her, yammering the whole time.

  “I am so sorry, Mrs. Smith, it won’t happen again. If it does, I’ll personally wait on you myself every time you come into the store.” He gave Pam her packages and she continued shopping, planning how she was going to tell her children the truth. And when she was done with that nightmare, she was going to get an attorney to find out who had divulged her personal health information. She’d get Andy involved if she had to. She was in a litigious mood. She would take out her anger at Jack on the nurse who opened her big mouth. Feeling a deep sense of satisfaction, Pam smiled. She was about to go public.

  Chapter 29

  Sandra Benson walked back to her office, wondering what had just happened between her and Marie. She thought that some line had been crossed; where she had been the levelheaded one in the past, able to justify looking down her nose at the frenzied Marie, Marie was now the normal one, and Sandra was the unstable half. There was a hot dog cart on the street before her office and as much as she hated to put anything unhealthy into her body, the smell of the roasting fat and spices made her mouth water. She would put her soul-searching on hold and get lunch. She ordered a dog with all the fixings and enough acid to send her into early labor, along with an order of French fries. She walked a half a block south to the triangle, a place for officer workers to eat, furnished with picnic tables and trash barrels. It was after lunch, and the place was deserted. Spreading a paper napkin down for a placemat, she arranged her food and began to eat. The first bite of the hot dog sent boiling juices squirting everywhere, including down the front of her perfectly tailored, beige silk suit. She cleaned up the mess as best she could with the flimsy paper napkin, rubbing the grease deeper into the fabric. Oh great.

  As hard as she tried, she could not get Marie Fabian out of her mind. She felt anxious, as though she had lost some footing, some self-respect. Was she just as badly behaved as Marie? She had rationalized her behavior with Jack by lying to herself; that because she didn’t know Pam, it was okay. They were destined to be together in spite of his marriage. Although Sandra always felt like the relationship was short lived, because of the pregnancy she had fantasized that it was a love affair that would have transcended its shady origins if Jack hadn’t died. Marie was more at fault because she had betrayed her own sister. She’d probably come on to Jack, and he, being a highly sexual human being, succumbed in a moment of weakness. She then remembered Cindy Thomasini. Where’d she fit into the picture? Give it a rest. Stick to the issue. The issue was why was she always so mean to Marie? You are jealous of her, that’s obvious. And the truth was that her relationship with Jack was nothing more than a momentary lapse in judgment and that theirs was but one of probably many, many illicit romances. She looked around the park, noticing for the first time that some of the trees had been vandalized; the bark cut into with deep, machete like cuts. Some of the lower branches of the trees were broken off with jagged ends. There was a small sparrow sitting on the remains of one of the branches, grooming herself with a small, delicate wing poised over its head. The gesture was so innocent that Sandra gave out an involuntary gasp and began to cry. The juxtaposition of the little bird on the destroyed tree in that pathetic little park, empty of anyone but Sandra, magnified her sense of loneliness. And then she thought of Tom. What future was there really with him? She thought.

  Eventually, she was afraid that the very company Jack had left her might become anathema to him. He had made a few remarks under his breath about the hours she had been putting in lately, preparing for maternity leave. Thankfully, he didn’t know that her share of the profits from the company were going to Pam; Sandra’s draw was substantial however, and she wasn’t about to divulge that yet. There was a twist to his mouth whenever she tried to share something interesting from her day at work. She didn’t do anything else, didn’t have any hobbies or go out with friends, so her conversation about herself was limited to what she did at her job. And she didn’t really want to be forced into changing that. Soon, she’d have a baby to occupy the rest of her thoughts.

  Flattered almost desperately that he was interested in her, at first it seemed like enough. But as the weeks passed and she was getting to know him better, there was a deeper concern that possibly he wasn’t smart enough for her. She would never have breathed that fact to a soul. But the truth was that one of the things that attracted her to Jack was h
is brilliance. It was the most positive thing about him. He was an enigma in the business world, internationally known for his demographic acumen, but that wasn’t all. Jack was a voracious reader. There wasn’t a topic he couldn’t discuss. And he was interested in everyone and everything. No matter where they went together, people knew Jack. He was forever getting stopped by friends, or recognizing old acquaintances and stopping to greet them. He always introduced her as well, seemly unconcerned that someone might tell his wife about seeing Jack with another woman. She couldn’t recall ever taking a walk with him and not having it be an adventure. He couldn’t pass a street musician without speaking to them, finding out how long they had played their instrument, if they played in a group anywhere, anything they cared to share about their life with a stranger. He loved to talk politics and never let an opportunity pass to get someone else’s opinion on a topic.

  In the middle of the week, there was a farmer’s market north of Wall Street and once shortly before he died, Jack invited her to wander around the stalls with him. He spoke to every vendor, finding out something about their life. He truly wanted to know. It was almost like he was planning on running for some political office, but that was ridiculous. Jack just didn’t want to waste a second of time.

  Sandra realized that comparing Tom, an honest, hardworking, twenty-nine year old Brooklyn boy with a worldly man twice his age was unfair. She also made the discovery that she was grieving still, and it was a mistake to interrupt the process. It didn’t mean that they could never be in a relationship but that now may not be the best time to start one. She was using Tom. The fear that no one else would want her was a big concern. Maybe she was underestimating Tom, however. He’d broken it off once and returned on his own with the understanding that she had a lot of work to do to get through the process of recovering from losing Jack. But did he really know her deepest feelings? Probably not, since it appeared she wasn’t in touch with them herself. “Oh what a mess,” she said out loud. She stood up and gathered up her trash, her stomach rebelling from the hot dog. She’d carry her stained jacket back to the office and get it to the cleaners as soon as possible. That would be the only decision she would make, leaving her sadness about Jack and her questions about Tom behind in the triangle park. She wasn’t really up to doing anything life changing for the moment.

  *

  As soon as she got back to her office, Marie called Pam. She wanted to get the list of women’s names to her sister in spite of knowing that it may be interpreted as a hurtful action on her part. Somehow, she had to get it across to Pam that she had no intention of purposely trying to upset her. It was information that belonged to Pam and Pam alone, and she would never mention it again if need be. She locked her office door and went right to the phone. Pam picked up on the first ring.

  “Oh! I was just going to call you! When we do this, it always catches me off guard,” she confessed. “Someday I will get used to our esp. What’s up?”

  “What were you going to call me about?” Marie asked. She was losing nerve and maybe if she allowed Pam to talk first, it wouldn’t seem so aggressive on her point, revealing the info about the list.

  “Are you in a rush? This might take some time,” she explained, prepared to tell her sister about her grocery store encounter, and that she was going to call her children and tell them the truth about her health, and their father’s role in it if it came up. Marie encouraged Pam to go ahead and begin, more than glad to delay what she had to say. Pam told her what happened, and Marie was furious.

  “You know, I hate that store. It seems like such a wholesome, friendly place and it’s really just a haven for snobs. How can a goddamned deli clerk get away with talking to you like that?” Marie asked.

  “Well, I don’t think I’m going to allow her to,” Pam confided. “On Monday I am going to talk to my lawyer about her sister, the nurse. I’m sure she broke some law by gossiping about me to her sister. I have never felt vindictive before but I do today. Isn’t it strange? Why now? I’ve certainly had the opportunity to do so this summer.”

  “Maybe you just had your fill of rude behavior,” Marie told her, embarrassed since she had given her the most reason, outside of Jack. “Besides, you don’t need an excuse. That’s why the laws are written, why every time you enter a doctor’s office now you have to sign that HIPAA form. I’m glad I wasn’t with you this time. Can you imagine?” The sisters laughed, the vision of Marie getting involved in the confrontation horrible and hysterical at the same time.

  “What were you calling me about?” Pam asked

  “I’ll cut right to the chase. Jack gave my company a project last spring. It was mine to complete, and I put it aside for the obvious reasons until the merger. It contained an entire file cabinet of information, and when the writer was finished with it and cleaning up the last files, she found a list of women’s names. I don’t want to hurt you anymore, but I think this belongs to you. I could have thrown them in the trash, but it really wasn’t an option. You may toss them, but they weren’t mine to destroy.” There was silence. Finally Pam replied.

  “I have his cell phone. There are hundreds of women’s names on it. I didn’t know a phone could store so much, to tell you the truth. So I am not surprised. I wonder why he made a list.” Pam was beginning to feel anxious. What was he thinking when he wrote down the names?

  “He started out typing names on an old typewriter. The first pages are on different papers, all typewritten. When he started to use a computer, he began printing the lists; there is even a couple of sheets of paper that have the holes along the edge like computer paper used to; the long, continuous sheets that could be separated by perforations.” Marie paused. “I guess we will never know what Jack was thinking. Or why he did the things he did. I wish I had some answers. Maybe he was keeping track of his conquests.”

  “Hang on to it, okay? You can give it to me when we are together next. Thank you, though. I know it wasn’t easy for you to see the names, to recognize the implication.” Pam was purposely being cagy; she wanted Marie to ask questions, to start probing into the murky possibility that she was but a drop in a bucket of women Jack had sex with. Marie did get it; she wasn’t stupid. But she was not going there with her sister.

  “It wasn’t hard seeing them at all. It means nothing to me.” How odd! She thought. Why was my sister baiting me? She’d had an intense relationship with Jack that spanned thirty-five years, thirty of them sexual. She not only saw him during the week for lunches, the theater, ballet and symphony, but she was with him all weekend, golfing, playing tennis, and swimming in the summer, and skiing and snowboarding in the winter. When she really thought about it, what she had with Jack was more exciting and involved that what her sister had. Would challenging Pam with this information be worth what such a confrontation would do to their relationship? Probably not.

  “So when will I see you again?” Pam asked, secretly hoping she wouldn’t say ‘tomorrow.’

  “I’m not sure. Are you coming into the city to see Mom this weekend? I’d like you to see where Steve lives. I’m thinking about moving in with him and now’s as good a time as any.” Oddly, Pam had never visited Marie’s apartment before. Jack and Marie’s love nest.

  “I don’t think so. I’m decorating outside for fall already. I’d like to do the fall-weekend thing we used to do. Do you remember it? I want to get cider and donuts, bake apple pie, and buy mums for the veranda. It will be strange doing it alone, but I think I need to try it. I loved it with you and the children and when Jack was here, though I’m not sure he noticed. Most men don’t care about that sort of thing, do they?” Pam asked.

  “Why are you asking me? I’ve no experience with men. Besides, I think Jack did notice what you did,” Marie said. “He talked about how the house reflected every season and holiday. Last fall, when you put lit pumpkins all over the place I think his actual words were, ‘I thought I walked into the wrong house last night.’” Pam had bought dozens of ceramic jack-o-lanterns
and put battery operated candles in each one, lining them along the front of the house, through the entryway, out to the veranda. “He said it was spooky and beautiful at the same time.”

  “So he actually noticed!” Pam remarked, pleased.

  “If it your traditions bring you pleasure, you should keep doing them for yourself. I remember when leaf burning was still legal. Daddy raked a huge pile out in the street in front of our house and lit a match. We roasted marshmallows over the fire and they would be covered with leaf ash. Any kind of burning wood reminds me of fall now. Sick.”

  “Why’s that sick? I feel the same way,” Pam replied.

  “Homeless people burning trash in my neighborhood shouldn’t remind me of our father, that’s why,” Marie said. “There’s a farmer’s market near Steve’s place, and I noticed piles of gourds and corn stalks tied together at one of the stands. Maybe I’ll buy one for his stoop.” She thought about it for a second. “Nix that.” She wasn’t beginning any domestic traditions with Steve Marks. At least not yet. “So I guess I’ll see you next weekend?” Marie felt sad; she going to miss another weekend at the beach.

  How would spending an entire weekend with Steve measure up? Just the thought of it was making her depressed. Determined to allow Steve to make the first moves so his routine would become evident to her, Marie wasn’t going to say a word to him. Was he a slug who wanted to laze around reading the paper all weekend, or did he jam activities into every second that he was awake, getting up at the crack of dawn and going to bed in the middle of the night? She didn’t know which one would appeal to her. Jack was always moving, always on the go. She was exhausted by the time the work week was due to begin after they spent the weekend together. But she loved it. The past summer had been long and boring and then Steve Marks came alone to rescue her. She would be happy with whatever direction he would lead her. Boring and lazy but might be preferable to crazy and driven. She would try it on for size.