We're Just Friends: Short Story Prequel to Pam of Babylon #8

by Suzanne Jenkins

  Anyway, thank you again for having lunch with me. It was like being with a movie star, you turned so many heads!

  Jason

  12 pm

  Jason,

  Thanks again for lunch. You’re very kind. When I said I felt a spark between us, I was thinking more than a father/daughter relationship, although I’m glad you feel protective of me. However, I can’t say what I feel for you is a daughterly feeling. (Just kidding.)

  I think you should ask Pam how I happened to become a partner at Lang, Smith and Romney. Trust me; she’ll have something to say.

  Her mother-in-law is really a dear. She stood by me through some of the roughest times of my life. Give her a chance and she’ll be your champion, I promise you.

  So, you have a boat on the Delaware River! I’m ready; all you have to do is just say the word and I’ll be in Philadelphia, lickety-split. I haven’t been out of the city all summer and would really enjoy a day on the river. I haven’t been invited to the beach since Pam was uncomfortable with my choice of swimwear the last time we were all together. I don’t know if you noticed the tension between us.

  Anyway, when do you want to get together for that boat ride? You know I work all week, but I haven’t taken a vacation yet though so I could arrange to take off.

  I’m excited!

  Sandra

  Xoxox

  Sunday, August 30th, 1 am

  Dear Sandra,

  Our outing to the White Plains flea market was amazing. It took us almost all day to go through the entire market. We made quite a haul; Pam had to have several things shipped. She might be becoming obsessive about this collecting thing.

  I felt guilty leaving Pam’s house instead of spending the night with her, but I couldn’t wait to get back to Jeff’s so I could email you. She didn’t seem to mind, which seems a little odd when I think about it.

  By the way, you signing your letter with love and kisses was very exciting to receive.

  Here’s how my inquiry into your acquisition of Lang, Smith and Romney went; as we were driving back home from White Plains, I asked her if she’d heard from her husband’s partner.

  “Peter?” she answered. “I rarely hear from him. Or do you mean Sandra? In that case, no, not from her since last weekend, which, come to think, is a little odd.

  “If there’s anything pressing, needing my signature or approval, the company attorney calls me. Why do you ask?”

  I told her I felt disadvantaged because I didn’t know anything about her financial well-being. She accepted the explanation. But since she brought up your name, I’d pursue it further. I asked her about the same thing I had asked you. Did you work up the ladder to a partnership?

  There was definitely a change of attitude. “Sandra has her own agenda,” she said, with a snicker.

  “What do you mean by agenda? Do you feel she had getting control of the company in mind all along?” I asked

  “Not at all,” Pam replied. “She was just as shocked as I was. At the time, she was very apologetic about it.” Trying to get information out of her wasn’t easy, so I just let it drop. But I deduced her husband hadn’t told her about your roll in the business. She appeared to be thinking about it though and I soon got an earful. I don’t really want to elaborate in an email. I should tell you face to face, in person. Suffice it to say Pam and her mother-in-law feel you ‘d do anything to be part of the Smith family and that’s why you ultimately got pregnant.

  I hope I’m not upsetting you. There’s a lot of water under the bridge in your relationship with Pam. I think it’s amazing she befriended you. Most women would have been out for blood.

  Sincerely,

  Jason

  10 am

  Jason, thank you for taking my call this morning. Brent woke up and I was giving him his bottle when I checked my email. I couldn’t believe what I was reading. I am still shaking, I’m so upset. I had to end our call when Brent’s nanny arrived, but I feel there is still a lot to say to you.

  I have never diminished the importance of what I did to Pam by having an affair with Jack. However, it’s so over with. The man is dead. Why is it still an issue with her?

  I’m most upset about Pam’s telling you lies about her son. On one hand, Pam is accusing me of getting pregnant on purpose, and on the other, the pregnancy was a product of rape. Which is it? I’d like you to give me the details of what she said. I don’t want Baby Brent to grow up thinking his father was a rapist. My story is that Brent and I were having an affair. My relationship with Tom was over. He told Pam Brent raped me. Tom said this to try to lessen his own inadequacies. Tom just couldn’t stand that I was attracted to someone else; his ego couldn’t take it.

  In the beginning, we almost didn’t get together because he was so jealous of Jack. I still have the letter he wrote, the Dear Jane letter. He left it on the couch and snuck out of my apartment. Then he blamed Pam and Marie because he was jealous of my relationship with them. Tom was never able to own up to his role in our relationship. It is rather pathetic that he’d put his ego above the well-being of an innocent child. For Pam to repeat the story shocks me. What was she hoping to gain? Telling me she was hoping to reduce the baby’s importance in her life, to disregard him because he was a product of rape is ludicrous. I don’t believe she meant that at all. Pam loves Brent.

  Another thing which upset me deeply was what she said about my income from Lang being a gift. I work sixty or more hours a week. She does pay for my house; that’s true. But she insisted on it when Tom and I became Miranda’s guardian. If I had to pay my own housing bills, I’d simply downsize. This house is much too big for two people. But I’m hoping to have a partner to share it with someday. Let’s put aside this awful dialogue. I never want to discuss Jack again. My heart broke when he died, and now my heart is being broken all over again because it’s clear to me Pam is finished with our friendship.

  You should come by on your way home tonight. I would like to meet face to face to discuss this further.

  Sandra

  Text messages.

  2 pm

  Hi, I’m getting ready to leave Babylon for Philly. Are you sure I should stop by?

  2:10 pm

  Of course! I’m looking forward to seeing you. You should plan to stay for dinner. We can finish our conversation then.

  2:12 pm

  Okay, I’m leaving now. See you in an hour or so.

  Sunday, August 30, 5 pm

  Williamsburg

  Jason’s found Sandra’s brownstone without difficulty, in spite of it being the first time he had to find an address in Brooklyn. Turning onto her street, he was surprised how lovely it was, row after row of ostentatious homes with wrought iron fencing around front yards, alleyways leading to backyards between most, some with parking spaces in the front. Sandra had opted to keep her yard open for the children, a six by six-foot grassy area with a miniature concrete table and stools, perfect for a tea party. Jason remembered there was only one child now.

  Hearing the car, Sandra went to the door to wait for Jason. Although he was handsome, he was her father’s age, her dead father; older than Jack was. What am I doing? she asked herself. A self-destructive streak was at play, a quality she was aware she had, but one she’d ignored or denied for a long time. The idea that she could be purposely trying to hurt Pam again entered her mind, but because she wasn’t doing anything wrong yet, it seemed ludicrous to stop. She watched him walk up the stoop, catching his eye. They were comfortable with each other, but she didn’t sense any sexual chemistry when she flirted with him. Either he didn’t have any for her or he was a good actor. And it wounded her pride. Used to men vying for her attention, none of Pam’s dates gave her a second look. It hadn’t occurred to her that they were decent men who had self-control.

  Sandra had blamed herself for the flirtation between her and Jason, yet ever since Jeff told him about Sandra and Jack’s affair, Jason had been trying to talk to her. What did he want? Was he interested or not? Was it
a harmless flirtation? Or was he hoping to take advantage of her neediness. And why were they talking to each other when it clearly upset Pam?

  “So here you are.” The solid granite walkway was taking all of his attention until he looked up at the original light fixtures on either side of the door.

  “Quite a place you have here,” Jason said. “How many square feet is it?” Sandra frowned, not sure of the exact dimensions.

  “It’s big, that much I can tell you.”

  “Do you rent out the upper floors?”

  “No!” she answered, appalled. “Why on earth would I do that?”

  He shrugged his shoulders, aware that his fiancée had intended it for a family; not a parent and her infant son. “It’s just so big for two people, that’s all.”

  “I admitted it is big for two people,” Sandra said, exasperated. “Is the house something else you and Pam chatted about?”

  “Yes, actually. Can I come in?” She stepped aside, the desire to seduce him gone. Biting her tongue, she really wanted to yell at him to leave and tell his girlfriend to go to hell.

  “Very nice,” he said, walking into the living room. “Is that woodwork original?”

  “What else did Pam say?” Her tone had an edge of disgust, and Jason picked up on it right away.

  “Let’s sit. I said I wanted to talk to you face to face.” Sandra pointed to the dining room table, dark wood in a dark paneled room with one window facing a dark brick wall. It was almost claustrophobic. She turned on lights that hung over the table, but the yellow light from it made Jason feel sick. “I’m getting a headache,” he said. “Can we go out to your kitchen? I see light coming from the back of your house.”

  “We can go to the deck if you want,” she offered and he nodded his head.

  “Where’s your son?”

  “The nanny is upstairs with him,” Sandra said, finally smiling. Jason nodded but didn’t say anything more about Brent. They sat in opposing chairs, which overlooked a very nice landscaped yard. He estimated the work done to be at least fifty thousand. She was a spoiled young woman, as Pam accused.

  “First of all, I didn’t mean to make it sound like Pam said the money you made was a gift. Just that it was a lot of money for a young woman.

  “And as far as the baby goes, she’s resigned that her relationship with Brent won’t be like one she’d have with a child born in a normal relationship.” Sandra jumped up from the chair, surprising Jason so that he squeaked.

  “That’s just awful,” she yelled, her voice echoing up and down the neighboring yards. “What difference does it make what my relationship with Brent’s father was?” Jason looked around to see if anyone was observing them, hunching over slightly.

  “I’m sorry I upset you,” he said, ready to say it was a lie if she’d just sit back down and calm down. “Please don’t get so upset.”

  She was marching back and forth, and even in her distress, she was beautiful, her black hair flying from her face, her dark eyes flashing. “I don’t think you understand. I lost a baby. Jack’s baby. Did you know that?” Jason was appalled, but he tried to keep his expression neutral. What would it have been like for Pam if the child had lived? Her husband’s baby. It made him a little sick thinking about it, watching her move back and forth, her long legs making the trip in few steps, the white fabric of her sweat pants swirling around her body. She was babbling about it, about losing the baby and how Pam was relieved, gesturing with her arms as she spoke, and Jason couldn’t stand it anymore. He stood up and grabbed her, wanting to hold her as he would his daughter, to calm her down, anything to get her to stop.

  Sandra misinterpreted the gesture, and fell against him, rubbing her hips against his and kissing him on the lips. There was a second of clarity where Jason knew that if he didn’t stop right that minute, the relationship he was building with Pam would be destroyed. But loyalty to Pam took second place to comforting Sandra, her slender body pressing against his. He remembered her round derrière in the thong bathing suit bottom that had so offended Pam, and common sense gone, he reached down and put his hands over her ass. Noise from the kitchen announced the nanny’s presence and they flew apart.

  “Miss Benson,” Valarie called. “Little Brent is ready for bed.”

  “I’ll be back in about half an hour,” Sandra said, flushed, her lips swollen. “Do you want to wait?”

  “What do you think?” he answered, turning to sit back down, his prominent erection embarrassing him. He wouldn’t need Viagra tonight if this was going where he thought it was going. He looked at his watch; it was almost seven. If he left right then, he probably wouldn’t get back to Philadelphia until after ten; Sunday night traffic.

  He could go back to Babylon. He should go to Pam’s, say he had a change of heart and wanted to spend the night. But the sad fact was he didn’t want to. He was bored with Pam. They hadn’t had sex in months. Their relationship was in a rut, an inconvenient rut. If they could just accept the fact that they were antiquing buddies and little else, it would be great. You’re an ass, Bridges. Pam’s a great lady, and you want to lay blame on her because you have a hard on for a girl younger than your own children.

  Needing to go to the bathroom, he stood up, adjusting his crotch in case the nanny was still there. The downstairs was empty though, with a powder room off the front hallway. A mirror oddly placed on the wall behind the toilet gave him a view of his face as he stood to pee. He laughed out loud, just the comic relief he needed. He looked like hell, sickly pale under his tan, hair awry. The next time he went out on the boat he’d slather on sun block. The dark tan, white hair and his teeth made him look like a caricature; his kids had talked him into getting his teeth whitened after Emily had died. Thinking he looked ridiculous, he decided he was going to have a cigarette to try to yellow his teeth up again. “They look like fangs,” he said to his reflection.

  A light tap on the door startled him. “Jason? I’m back.” He washed his hands.

  “I’ll be right out,” he called. She was waiting in the kitchen, and fell back into his arms. He was sorry she did it, hoping she’d come to her senses, counting on her to put the brakes on.

  “Do you want me?” She asked.

  “What do you think?” He repeated.

  “Tell me. Do you want me? I need to hear the words.”

  “Yes. Yes, I want you.” She took his hand but instead of leading him upstairs to bed as he expected, she took him back to the deck.

  “We need to talk,” she said. “If we have sex tonight, it means we’re in a relationship. Is that what you want? I thought you were marrying Pam.”

  “I am. I mean I think I am. It’s not easy being with you, denying how good this feels. But what is it exactly? I know I like you a lot. I care about you. I lust after you.” They both laughed.

  “Is it worth hurting Pam for?” Sandra asked, surprised she cared. Maybe she wasn’t such an evil person after all.

  “We haven’t done it yet,” Jason said. “But I really want you. Badly.”

  “Think about it, Jason,” Sandra said. “Think what it might mean if we did it, and decided we wanted to be together. I have a small child. Are you ready for that? Are you ready to be Pam’s grandchild’s daddy?” Bursting out laughing, Sandra looked at his shocked expression. “Bet you didn’t think of that!”

  Shaking his head, Jason was so disappointed. He wanted to fuck her and call it a day, go back to his boring life, but she wasn’t going to let him use her. He wondered if what he was experiencing was some of what Jack Smith may have gone through; willing to risk twenty – five years of marriage to a beautiful woman for a chance to take Sandra Benson to bed.

  “Well, I guess it’s good you have some self-respect.”

  “Oh, yeah, I’m just bursting with self-respect. This is probably the first wise decision I’ve made in a long time.” She leaned back in the chair and looked up at the night sky, bright turquoise fading to indigo blue, reaching as far as she could see, the sun almost
set. Maybe I’m finally growing up.

  Email messages

  Monday, August 31, 8 am

  Dear Sandra,

  I wanted to talk to you but you’re probably on your way to work by now.

  Last night was good for me in more than just a few ways. I feel like we achieved something special together. It’s weird writing because I don’t really feel that great about us not doing it. (Be sure to delete this after you read it.) I wanted you. But we didn’t give in to what we wanted because it wouldn’t have been fair to either of us or to other people who shall remain nameless.

  What a bunch of bull crap. Anyway, I am anxious to see where this is going.

  And I’m sorry I grabbed you on the deck.

  Yours very truly,

  Jason

  9 am

  Jason, relax. It’s no biggie. Let’s just pretend it never happened.

  9:10 am

  Sandra, it is a big deal to me. I need to sort out my feelings about you.

  10 am

  Sandra, I can’t get you out of my mind. Call me when you can talk.

  Text messages.

  10:04 am

  I’m crazy busy today but maybe during lunch I can sneak outside for a call. We get terrible cell phone reception in the building and I don’t want to call on my office phone.

  1 pm

  Is everything okay? I thought you’d have called by now.

  Email message

  8 pm

  Sandra,

  I feel like I’m stalking you now. I just tried to call you. I hope everything is okay. If I don’t hear from you by nine, I’ll have to take a drive to Brooklyn tonight. Please let me know as soon as you get this.

  Text Message