Don't You Forget About Me: Pam of Babylon Book #2

by Suzanne Jenkins

  Sandra led the way down the dark hallway to her apartment door. She could feel Tom behind her, and she liked it. She would not resist this relationship. There was no reason to; he was single, employed, and seemed to like her. The only fly in the ointment—Jack’s unborn baby. But, so far, Tom had given her no reason to think that what was happening here was anything more than a police detective watching over his charge. He hadn’t said one thing that could even be misconstrued as flirtatious or romantic. And until he did, her secret would remain just that. She was barely showing, so he probably wouldn’t guess it—yet.

  “I’m going to fix a cup of tea. Would you like one?” she asked. She put her purse down and walked into the kitchen, Tom following behind her. She turned to see if he was nodding an answer, and then he made a move that gave her the reason she sought.

  He put his hands on her shoulders, pulled her to him, and kissed her smack on the mouth. She didn’t resist, but sort of fell against him and put her hands up on his shoulders, too. They finally made their way around his head.

  She ended the kiss and put her head on his chest, snickering. “Was that a yes or a no?”

  He held her gently but firmly and then laughed a full, deep, hearty laugh. “A yes,” he answered, looking down into her eyes. “Wow, I’m not sure what just happened, but I guess a thank you is in order.”

  She backed up a little from him. “You don’t know what happened? You kissed me full on the lips, and I kissed you back!” She laughed, needing so badly to keep things real, not to read anything into what he had done. Let it be real.

  She allowed him to pull her to him again, but this time, it was just for a hug. If this moment could last, she would do what she could to facilitate it. Only pulling away when she felt the time was right, she went back to fixing their tea. She took the teakettle from the stove, filled it with water, and placed it back on the stove, and all the while Tom was right behind her with his hands on her shoulders, offering her companionship and not willing to break the mood, the physical connection. Sandra decided then she had to tell him about the baby. He would accept it or not. They barely knew each other, but she felt the instant attraction, and it was obvious he did, too.

  “Here, let me take this to the table,” she said, lifting the tray with the tea things on it. “Come sit with me. I have something to say to you.”

  He followed her obediently to the table and sat down. He was thinking, I’m in trouble for stealing a kiss. She put a mug down in front of each chair and took the tea things off the tray. He sat in the same chair he sat in yesterday, and she took the tray back to the kitchen. Tom watched her and smiled. Boy oh boy, I didn’t expect feeling this! he thought. He’d never lived with a woman or been engaged or even wanted to “go steady” with someone. Sandra came back from the kitchen with the teakettle and poured hot water into each mug. She was graceful for being so tall. Poised and willowy. She sensed him smiling at her and smiled back, although she didn’t look up at him. She didn’t want to lose her nerve.

  “So sit down and talk to me. I’m moving too fast, is that right? You want me to slow down. I stole a kiss, and I’m proud of it!”

  They laughed together.

  “No, that’s not it,” she replied. “I wasn’t going to tell you what I am about to tell you because it wasn’t relevant. But since the kiss—and now tell me if I’m wrong.” She looked right up into his eyes. “But we have something here, am I right?”

  He nodded yes without hesitation and said, “We definitely have something.”

  “Well then, I have to tell you—I’m pregnant.”

  He looked into her eyes, the smile frozen on his face. He pushed the chair back and stood up, all six feet three of him, and walked around to her side, bending over her and looking down at her belly. “May I?” he asked.

  She nodded yes.

  He placed one hand on the back of her chair and the other over her belly. No one else had felt the baby move yet, or really even acknowledged it, except for Pam. Her heart soared. She had just laid eyes on this man one day ago. Was she dreaming?

  “The father of the baby is dead,” she told him. “Bill’s brother, Jack. It’s another reason that Bill is so angry with me. Jack was married,” she added. “But his wife, Pam—the woman I introduced you to this morning—and I have become the best of friends.”

  The sensation Tom had, he would later tell Sandra, was of being on a small boat with her, out in the middle of the ocean. They had no paddles or motor, but the wind was blowing them to all the right places. He pulled up a chair so he could keep his hand on Sandra’s belly.

  “How far along are you?” he asked her.

  “Almost five months,” she answered. “Jack didn’t know about the baby. We would have probably broken up if he hadn’t died,” she lied. “He loved his wife; our relationship had run its course.” She didn’t add that if he had known about the baby, she was almost certain he would have left Pam and they would have gotten married. She would never repeat that; it was possible she had it all wrong.

  “The baby doesn’t change the way I think I could feel about you,” he said. “I mean, I am trying to be as truthful as I can, and I have never, ever felt this way about anyone before after twenty-four hours.” He chuckled. “You’re probably thinking, ‘What a schmuck.’ Go ahead, say it.” He was laughing, though. She liked him more and more. “Thank you for telling me, though. I’m not scared off or anything.” Not yet, anyway. He picked up his mug and sipped hot tea, thinking to himself, Tea, babies…Oh my God, if my mother could see me now, while another voice said a little louder, Run, Tom, run.

  Chapter 15

  On Monday morning, the company Marie worked for merged with a larger firm, one whose employees were going to move into the Midtown offices that Marie loathed so completely. When she arrived at work that day, the receptionist whispered that a bevy of cute men from across town had just arrived with boxes of files—their new coworkers. Marie’s ears perked up. She was ready for some cute men. Hopefully, they aren’t all married, she thought. Married or gay.

  “Meeting in the conference room in fifteen,” her boss yelled to her from down the hall.

  Marie frowned; he was such a jerk. She went to her office, head down and eyes averted. Strangers were standing around talking, staring at her, smiling and being friendly. She wasn’t biting. The staff had ignored her for the years she worked there, and there was no reason to change the system now. Closing the door quickly behind her, she was happy that she had her own office and there wasn’t any chance that someone new would be sharing it. It was hardly big enough for one person.

  She turned on her computer and went to the window to look out while it started up. She could see the top of the Empire State Building if she looked between buildings. Off to the right was the UPS terminal. She loved watching the trucks zoom in and out, picturing them empty going in and going out so full they were ready to explode. The men who worked there were potential dates, but she never looked, never gave them a minute of her time because she had a permanent date with Jack. Maybe she should give those men a second chance. Later, she would go to the deli on the corner for lunch and this time not be oblivious to the conversation swirling around her. So many years had passed, and she was no longer young in spite of her dating evolution being stalled at the adolescent stage.

  Her phone ringing brought her back to reality. “Fabian,” she said, loving the sound of it and its pretentiousness.

  “Hey, Fabian, it’s Babcock here. How you doin’ this beautiful morning?” Jeff asked.

  “Hi, Jeff, I’m good. What about you?” Marie asked in return, crestfallen. For a moment there, she had forgotten that someone else was dead.

  “I’m good, too. Whatcha doin’ for lunch today? I have to be in town around one, and I thought we could meet.”

  “I’ll know in an hour or so, okay? We have new staff starting today, and there’s a big meeting at nine thirty. My boss may be expecting us for lunch.” Marie missed lunching with someone
; most of her days for the past twenty years were spent eating hot dogs from a vending cart with Jack. Or going with him to Ali Baba’s for the best Middle Eastern food each Friday, although she was sure it was for the belly dancers. A list of wonderful restaurants filed through her head, and then she remembered there was someone else waiting on the line for her, someone who was alive and not married. “Can I let you know?” she asked.

  “That would be fine. I’ll call you around eleven thirty, okay? I hope you can go. My brother and his wife are in town, and I’d like them to meet you,” he added.

  Her heart beat a little faster. “Okay, fine. Talk to you later.” She hung up, putting the phone back in its cradle, and sat down at her computer. He wanted to introduce her to his family. She moved the mouse, and the screen saver popped on—a big picture of Jack, handsome in a white tennis sweater, his arm around a younger, smiling Marie. She stuck her tongue out at him and said to the image, “You are replaced.”

  ~ ~ ~

  An announcement made at the staff meeting was interesting because, unbeknownst to Marie, the new writers were to report to her for assignments. Even after working there for over twenty years, she didn’t know much about her colleagues, nor was she interested, and they returned the sentiment. By eleven that morning, she knew that she would be able to meet Jeff for a quick cup of coffee, but not lunch. He was fine with that; he really just wanted to introduce his brother to Marie. They made arrangements to meet at the TGI Friday’s by Madison Square Garden; his brother would be getting on a train at Penn Station when they were finished, and she would have a short cab ride. She thought it was an odd place for a gourmand to choose in a city teeming with fabulous restaurants.

  She arrived right on time; Jeff and his brother and sister-in-law were waiting for her outside of the restaurant. Jeff made a big show of greeting her, hugging her and kissing her on the mouth. She was suspicious right off the bat. The brother, John, and his wife, Greta, seemed absolutely thrilled to meet Marie. Over coffee, they went into great detail about how they had been praying that Jeff would meet the perfect woman and then listed all the attributes they wanted that woman to have.

  You’ve got to be kidding me, Marie thought, hiding her annoyance. Among the many qualities Jeff’s girlfriend needed to have, being saved topped the list.

  “Are you a Christian?” Greta asked.

  “I went to Catholic school as a kid. Does that count?” Marie asked, knowing that she was about to get a lengthy lecture. She needed to leave, though, so standing up, she put out her hand. “It was so nice meeting you, but I have to get back to my office. We have an entire company that merged with us today, and unfortunately I am in charge of their work assignments.”

  Everyone shook her hand, including Jeff, whose excitement since her arrival seemed to have diminished. She would be walking out of the restaurant alone.

  For the first time in her distant memory, Marie was excited about going back to work after lunch. It was a combination of the eager faces awaiting her and getting away from Jeff and his boring brother. Work might not be so horrible after all; there would be other human beings who wanted to talk to her, who were interested in her.

  She herded everyone back into the conference room, where she would divide projects among the new players. She sized up each one as they passed by her, smiling and shaking their hands. The requisite beautiful blonde—why in the hell was there one in every group?—was followed by the faction of entry-level journalism majors who couldn’t get jobs at the Times or AP. Then there was the lone middle-aged woman, possibly longing for retirement and tired of working and juggling family and husband. Marie would go easy on her. And finally came the squadron of men from ages thirty to sixty, probably all married but a few gay men thrown in, who were angry that they had to work in this new environment, but even angrier that they had to work for her.

  One guy in particular stood out as they filed past her—older, at least sixty, built, and graying but not totally gray. He was as tall as Jack, so Marie, who was tall for a woman, had to look up.

  He smiled at her and said hi.

  “Welcome!” she said to him with her biggest smile. And then to the group at large, “Welcome to you all. Have a seat, and we’ll get started.”

  There was chatter and the shuffling of chairs on carpeting. When everyone appeared settled, she started.

  “We have so much work right now that if the assignment I give you today is not to your liking, I’m sure I can do better for you next time,” she said. “As you heard earlier, my name is Marie Fabian. I’ve been here for a long time, and it seems like just yesterday—or forever, depending on the way the day is going. Your presence here is a tremendous boon for us; we have been short of staff for the past five years. I won’t take up any more of your time so we can get down to work. The way we decided to distribute the work is to divide you up into four groups. I’ll call out four names, and you may choose whose team you want to be on. Try to divide yourself so that there are five people on each team. We’re adults; this should work, right?”

  There was laughter all around.

  She called out the team leaders’ names and then gave the green light for the group to choose who they wanted to work with. Except for the middle-aged woman, everyone joined a team. She’d make six to one team.

  Marie looked at the list and called out the woman’s name. “Carolyn?”

  The woman nodded yes.

  “I need some help with a special project.”

  The others looked her way as she walked forward. Marie was glad; she hoped it stirred up some jealousy. “I am going to pass out file folders of work to the team leaders,” Marie continued to the group. “It is your responsibility to see that everything I give you today is addressed by Thursday at our weekly staff meeting. Okay?”

  There was a general murmur of agreement. Before lunch everyone had been given their office or cubical.

  “You can stay in here to talk about how the work will be divided up, and then you may go to your own space or stay here in the conference room. There’s a coffee shop down on Thirty-third where we often go to work when we can’t stand the office anymore. Make sure you have your cell phone and that your team leader approves of you working off-site. That’s about it. You know where to find me if you need any further direction.” She motioned to Carolyn. “Come with me. I think you’ll like what I have for you.”

  One of the last surveys Jack’s company was commissioned to do before he died was to find out exactly how the youngest of the baby boomers who lived in Manhattan were planning on spending their retirement. The research filled an entire file cabinet. It needed to be collated, graphs developed, reports written. It would be a project that would keep one lucky writer busy for several months. Marie presented the work to Carolyn as though it were the holy grail of technical writing jobs. It really was; Marie was supposed to have worked on it herself. But now she could safely pass it on to someone else and not feel possessive or controlling about it. Carolyn had come with good recommendations.

  “Come into my office,” Marie said. She could not remember the last time someone besides herself had crossed her threshold. “I use the term office loosely. Closet is more appropriate.” The two women walked in, and Marie shut the door. She had taken the explanatory files out to show to whoever drew the lucky straw. “Have a seat,” she said, pointing to a folding chair set up to hold overflow files from the desk. “The project I am going to ask you to do is dear to my heart. I was waiting for someone who I could trust to take over, and I trust you with this.” What the hell does that mean? she thought. I’m a terrible judge! “Would you like to give it a try?”

  Carolyn smiled and looked pleased. “I’d like to give it a try,” she responded, taking the file from Marie and opening it up. She leafed through the first pages.

  “Take the file, and then you can dig into the other two hundred later,” Marie said. They laughed. Marie stuck her hand out. “Thank you, Carolyn. I’ll have one of the janitors wheel the
file cabinet into your office later today. Let’s talk before we leave tonight, okay?”

  They agreed to meet at six, and Carolyn left Marie’s office, closing the door behind her. It wasn’t really a “close the door” office; in the past, there wasn’t enough staff to make it necessary to close doors. Now, however, people were walking down the hall all day long.

  Marie turned her attention to her computer. She worked nonstop for the next four hours and, finally at six, turned everything off and went to meet Carolyn in her office. On the way there, it occurred to her that for a good part of the day, Jack Smith’s name or face didn’t enter her mind—in fact, not since she had first turned on her computer that morning and saw the picture of them together. Ha-ha, Jack, you didn’t wreck my day, you didn’t wreck my day, she sang to herself. Jerk.

  Chapter 16

  Carolyn Fitzsimmons closed the door of her tiny, airless office, throwing the thick file of paper onto her new desk. She wasn’t complaining about the work or the office; she had never had her own space like this before. She wondered if it was mandatory to knock or if people would open her door and just come in. She’d be careful about falling asleep sitting up, as she had so ably taught herself to do this year. Menopause had opened the door to so many new experiences. Exhaustion and insomnia were her constant companions. She had watched her body morph from an average, moderately fit woman to a saggy, haggard, misshapen crone. What the hell happened to the woman I used to be? Her husband nagged her about the need to exercise and watch her diet. He could easily spend the entire weekend on the golf course, but by the time she finished cleaning the house, running errands, doing laundry, and watching two soccer games in a row, the last thing she wanted to do was get on the treadmill. She tried to explain that the change of life was responsible.