She bent over to pick up another piece of glass. “You probably don’t know this, but I lost my son a year ago.”
He grabbed her hand. “I do know, and I’m so sorry. I’m especially sorry that my story about Em made you sad. It was very inconsiderate of me.”
“Not at all, Jason. I think the reason your wife’s story is making me sad is that my own life is so empty that I don’t care if I die tomorrow. My daughter is the only thing in the world that I would hate to leave behind, and she and I have a strained relationship now, so I’m not sure she would even care.” The idea that she’d just blurted out the terrible truth about her and Lisa to a complete stranger shocked her. What is wrong with me?
“I am so sorry,” he said again. “I’ve had my ups and downs with our kids, so I get what you’re saying. Finally, I’ve decided they are grown up and making their own way. It doesn’t make much difference what I say or do now; the damage, so to speak, is already done once they leave home.”
“Boy, have you got that right,” Pam replied. Maybe every family had their secrets. She’d lived in denial for so long, trying to project the perfect life, that she had no idea if other families struggled.
“My middle boy, Aaron, is a drug addict,” Jason admitted.
Pam didn’t think she could handle any more bad news, but now that he’d opened up about it, she didn’t see how she could shut him up. Maybe it was hopeless to think she’d ever meet a man she was compatible with again. She certainly didn’t want one who had so many sad tales to tell.
“The only good thing about it is that he lives in L.A. and never comes back east. Out of sight, out of mind.”
“I pretend my son is still alive,” Pam blurted out, doing one-upmanship. “He went to college in Pasadena, so I just pretend he’s still there. It’s easier than facing what really happened to him.”
“Where does your daughter live?”
Pam told him about Lisa losing her husband the day before Brent was murdered, marrying Pam’s old boyfriend, and having his baby two days ago. Then she laughed. “Can you top that?”
Jason guffawed. “No, ma’am, I cannot top that. I think you win,” he said, laughing.
Pam felt delightfully free. A stranger knew all her secrets, well, just about all of them, and gravity still held her down to earth. She was afraid she might float away if she spoke of the dark pit out of which she’d been trying to climb.
“Oh, look! Red glass,” she said, squatting down to dig it out of the sand.
He bent over to look at it with her. “It’s such a tiny piece,” he said. “How do you keep from losing it?”
“I keep it all together in my kitchen with other treasures,” she answered. “This will go on a little square of mirror where I keep all the red glass.” She’d forgotten to bring a bag with her, so she put it in the breast pocket of her shirt.
“I have to remember I have it.” Looking up, she saw the weathervane in the distance, on top of her house. It was almost lunchtime, and Pam still hadn’t had morning coffee. She still wasn’t sure about inviting him in when he invited her instead.
“Would you like to come back to the house for coffee?”
“I’d love it.” Walking to Jeff Babcock’s beach house, they would spend the rest of the day talking and getting to know each other.
~ ~ ~
Sandra put baby Brent’s car seat into the back of Tom’s squad car after they had the DNA swabs done at a lab. She could tell the staff at the doctor’s office was dying of curiosity when she arrived to pick up the referral slip, but she was not divulging a thing to satisfy them.
The baby was cooing to her as she pulled the buckle over the seat. “We’re going to work,” she sang to him.
Although he’d made no decisions yet, Sandra wondered how Tom was going to do damage control with his family if the baby turned out to be his after all. It both annoyed her and titillated her. On one hand, Gwen Adams was a pain in the ass with her runner’s body and two dozen donuts every Sunday morning. It didn’t take Sandra long to figure out what she was up to; it was sabotage, pure and simple. She surrounded everyone with fattening, sugar-laden foods, knowing she was going to run a half-marathon later in the day and burn it all off. Sandra had stayed long and lean, even when she was nine months pregnant.
“Boy, your girlfriend is sure in good shape for being ready to hatch,” John Adams had remarked to Tom.
Gwen perked right up hearing it. “Make sure she isn’t purging.”
Tom frowned. “What would make you say a thing like that?” he asked, laughing. “She doesn’t have any problems with food or with exercise.” Hopefully, she’d get the hint.
While Sandra buckled the baby seat in the backseat, Tom stood behind her, holding the door open. “Do you need help?”
“No, I’ve got it,” she said.
He was watching her ass bobbing around, trying to remember the last time they did it. Why had he acted like such a jerk? He’d tortured himself, trying to overcome his behavior. She backed out of the car, bumping into him. She turned and looked up at him, and he was grinning down at her, clearly in her space on purpose.
“Ah, excuse me,” she said, smiling. “You certainly are a little fresh today.”
He grabbed her arms again and pulled her up to him. “I miss you,” he said huskily. “Let me back in your bed.”
“All in good time, Tom. You might never speak to me again when the test results come back, and I don’t want to regret one more thing.” A couple walked toward them. “We have company.”
He let her go and looked over his shoulder. “I promise to speak to you. I’m feeling more and more like I need to get therapy and be a father to both kids, no matter what.”
“Tom, that is so generous of you, but we have to be realistic. Let’s just wait. The lab tech said four days. We can wait until Friday, can’t we?”
“Oh god, I guess so. I won’t sleep.”
“No, me neither,” Sandra replied. “Take me to work, please. I’ll have Peter at my throat if I’m much later.”
“I wish you didn’t have to deal with him,” Tom said, exasperated.
“Yes, well, don’t waste time thinking about it.” She hoped her job wouldn’t become another issue between them. It had already caused enough trouble.
They got into the car, and he pulled away from the curb, headed toward her office on Exchange Place.
When they stopped again, the streets were crowded with people getting to their offices, and the beautiful young woman getting out of the unmarked police car and then getting the baby out of the back drew a lot of attention. It animated Tom; a combination of pride and excitement that this might really be his family stirred him up. He kissed her and then bent down and kissed the baby. He’d never done it before, and the soft skin on his cheek took him by surprise, so that he sobbed a little blubbery sob.
“Jeez, sorry about that,” he said, fighting back tears. “I hope he’s my baby.”
Good, Sandra thought as she walked to her building, waving to him as he got into the car and waved back. I hope you feel like shit for ignoring me for a year and sending all that hate to your own kid. Shocked at her reaction to his rare show of emotion, she decided she better talk to a therapist, too. The roller coaster was taking its toll. They had too much at stake to leave anything to chance.
Chapter 17
Natalie Borg was devastated. Not dumb enough to think that Ted would become a heterosexual and they’d live happily ever after, evidently, she was dumb enough to think she could sleep with him and not feel anything, not care that he didn’t love her the way she loved him. Having too much self-respect to allow any man to use her, she owned up to her responsibility for the matter. She initiated it and had to be honest about that. But now she had to explain to Deborah, who left to see her boyfriend on Friday with everything fine at home, why she was returning that afternoon with her father moved out and her mother in a state of depression. She hadn’t felt so badly since giving birth to Deborah twenty
-two years ago.
It was that horrible visit to the beach to see Pam Smith. Natalie couldn’t believe she had actually thought they would become friends with invitations to the beach. The bizarre ash episode left her feeling insecure. All she wanted to do was get back to her apartment in the Village and go back to her life. Nothing she’d planned for the summer was working out.
School over, Natalie hadn’t signed up to teach crafts in the park as she had in previous years. The new plan had been to play house with Ted and Deborah, cooking their meals and doing their laundry, pretending they were a real family. They would go to the cabin on the weekends, flea market and go out to dinner, and see Deborah’s boyfriend. Of course, that wasn’t going to happen now. Suddenly, she missed Ashton and longed to tell him what she had done. He’d be so angry with Ted. She remembered the first time she slept at their apartment, how in a state of drunkenness she’d taken her nightgown off so Ashton could see her breasts. It was her fault Ashton was dead. She had a deep, loving relationship with Ashton that she took for granted.
Covering her face with her hands, she burst into tears. After years of loneliness and disappointment, she almost had the life she dreamed of. Ted had left because she was unable to accept him as a gay man. She owed him an apology and wanted to do so quickly, before time destroyed any hope of reconciliation.
Grabbing her phone, she keyed in his number. He answered on the first ring. “Ted, I’m so sorry,” she said. “Please forgive me. You must feel like I used you, and that wasn’t my intention at all. And I’m sorry I threw my breakfast at you.”
He didn’t speak right away, trying to find just the right words. He wanted to make her feel better, but not lead her on or give her false hopes about their relationship. “Of course I forgive you,” he said. “And I don’t feel like you used me at all. I hope you don’t feel like I used you.”
“No, I don’t feel that way.” The disappointment hearing his voice caused her was almost worse than throwing him out had been. They might not be able to have a relationship but of the most superficial kind. Compared to the deep one she had with Ashton, she and Ted were mere acquaintances. Everything she’d planned on saying—begging him to come back, hoping they could spend time upstate together doing the things together she and Ashton used to do—felt ludicrous, a non sequitur. He wouldn’t even get it.
Deciding to let it go, he not only didn’t need an explanation about her reasoning, but wouldn’t want one. Taking a deep breath, she continued. “Well, that’s all I wanted to say. I’ll pack up everything and have Deborah bring it up when she visits.”
“Okay, that’s great,” he answered. “She’s on her way here from the cabin.”
Hearing that Deborah was going to Ted’s instead of coming downtown, she felt betrayed. Wondering why Deborah hadn’t called her, she decided to ask Ted how he happened to hear from her. “Is she staying up there with you?” she asked, trying to keep any emotion out of her voice.
“I’m not sure. I think that because we’re working together, she thought she’d stop here on her way home. She’ll probably stay with you since the office is downtown.”
“Oh, gotcha,” she said. It made sense. “Anyway, sorry again, Ted. So long.” She hung up without letting him say good-bye. It felt okay, as if he wouldn’t care one way or the other.
The key now was finding something to do with her summer that would be meaningful, filling a huge void. She had to stay busy so depression didn’t settle in.
Ted would slowly take over Ashton’s apartment. It’d sat empty for almost a year, but he’d had a cleaning service come in once a month, so it wasn’t dusty or depressing. He had to make it more him, less Ashton. Deborah would help; they were slowly working their way through the inventory program on Ashton’s laptop, discovering the daunting array of artifacts and furniture Ted now owned. Anything needed to decorate would come from one of the warehouses. As a matter of fact, no one in the family would ever have to buy a stick of furniture again.
Planning how to keep Ashton’s business afloat was exhausting. Ashton’s assistant Jeremy continued to do all the staging while Ted worked at his own real estate business, although Deborah was turning out to be a godsend helping him in that department. Sitting at a small round table in front of the windows that overlooked Roosevelt Island, the same one at which Ashton used to serve him wine and a snack, he thought of Natalie again. Would she want to help in the warehouses for the summer? It would give him time to find someone else to help Jeremy. He was turning out to be a trustworthy employee, but he needed some supervision. He took a sip of wine and hit redial on Natalie’s number.
“I was just thinking about the warehouses. Jeremy is handling the staging very efficiently, but overseeing him is too much for me to handle. You’re probably thinking, ‘Tough crap, Dano, it’s not my problem.’”
Natalie burst out laughing at the Hawaii-Five-O reference. “No, I wasn’t thinking that at all. As a matter of fact, I was just thinking I needed to find something meaningful to do with my summer. But I have no decorating talents.”
“You don’t need to know squat about it. Jeremy will do it all. I just need a family member who can oversee it, just to make sure everything that goes out comes back in eventually.”
“Okay, I can give it a try,” Natalie said. “It’ll be something new.”
“There you go,” he said. “Good point.”
Exhausted from having to talk to Natalie again, after they said good-bye, Ted went into the den and turned the TV on. He’d order pizza for dinner when Deborah got home, drink beer, and eat chips while watching sports, with no one to make him feel guilty.
~ ~ ~
Lisa put Marcus into his bassinet. Tiptoeing to the nursery door, she peeked in at Megan, who was playing in her crib. It was the perfect time to take a shower. Lisa accepted that she was a princess as her mother always said, but she’d change it, finding the skill to care for her own children with minimal outside help. Dan droned on and on about getting a nanny and maybe she would after she had a schedule of sorts down first. Another woman wasn’t coming into her house and taking over. And although she felt guilty about the way Dan had treated Gladys and Big Ed, it was time for them to go back home. They were welcome to return another time, after Lisa was back on her feet with a routine in place.
After a fabulous shower, Lisa made a cup of tea and sat down with a new fashion magazine. After nine months of dietary denial, she planned to spend a small fortune on clothes for the summer as a reward for keeping her figure. Thumbing through the magazine, the lighted face of the phone caught her eye. She picked it up and saw missed call with a number after it and the time, just a few minutes ago. The phone number was familiar but didn’t register immediately. Cara Ellison! Without thinking further, she pressed the call button. It was better to go into a conversation like this cold, Lisa decided, not wanting to have any set expectations. She didn’t even know what the woman sounded like.
“Hello?” Cara knew it was Lisa; she could see the phone number. Heart beating in her throat, she thought, Is this going to be another friendly call?
“Cara, this is Dan Chua’s wife, Lisa, again.” A nice touch, reminding her who the wife is, she thought. “I see you called, and I wanted to get back to you while I had the chance.”
Cara didn’t know what to say right away. Lisa’s self-confidence unnerved her. “Thank you for calling me back, Lisa. I’m so happy to meet you.” Your husband was just in my bed an hour ago.
“I was surprised you’d called,” Lisa said. You hit on my husband less than twenty-four hours after I gave birth to his baby. I should tell you to go to hell.
“I’d love to take you up on the invitation to meet the baby!” Why did you have his son? I was with him when you were still a baby yourself.
“Great! When can you come over? He’ll be up soon if you’d like to come by now.” I don’t want you around when Dan is here, that’s for darn sure.
“Okay, how about after lunch?” I’ll eat f
irst; I understand from your husband you don’t cook.
“After lunch will be great! Do you know how to get here?” This neighborhood isn’t your normal ghetto destination. Lisa gave her directions, taking her out of the way through the loveliest part of town.
After ending the call, Cara debated whether to call Dan and tell him, and then decided against it. He’d probably run over to supervise the visit, and she didn’t want his interference. Still not completely sure what her goal was, she’d improvise.
Lisa, on the other hand, knew exactly what she was aiming for. Cara thinks Dan is so vulnerable that all she has to do is give him a call and he’d run to her. Let her see the wonderful home and family he has and then see if she can compete with it.
Taking extra time with her appearance, Lisa chose a midriff-hugging short-sleeved top that emphasized her buff arms, and shorts, with strappy sandals. Turning this way and that to look at her reflection in the mirror, she was pleased with what she saw. “Top that, bitch.”
Marcus woke up before Cara arrived. Choosing his cutest outfit, miniature workout attire purchased by his father, Lisa thought he looked more like Dan than ever. “You are so cute!” she said, kissing his little cheek.
A baby chair already in place for him in the living room, she took her time getting down the stairs with the precious cargo in her arms. Just as she entered the living room, the front door bell rang. “Here goes nothing.”
Taking a deep breath, she put her biggest smile on her face and opened the door. The women did quick evaluations of their rivals; Cara was crestfallen, Lisa relieved. In fact, Lisa was so unimpressed by Cara, she felt genuine happiness to see her.
“Hi! You must be Dan’s friend Cara,” she said unnecessarily. But she just had to get Dan’s name in there and say it as many times as she could. This meeting was, in fact, all about Dan.
Cara took it all in: the underwear-model body, three days postpartum; the natural blond hair, thick and shining, pulled back in a youthful ponytail; the long legs without varicosities. She took in the diamond, too. At least five carats, square cut. And last but not least, the baby—a clone of Dan Chua, down to the hair. Cara couldn’t control it, hoping Lisa would interpret it as any woman’s reaction to a baby, a sob escaped as she reached out to touch the little guy.
In Memoriam: Pam of Babylon Book #7 Page 14