He came close and put his arm across the back of the bench. “I thought you didn’t want to see me again,” he said. But he was smiling at her. His aftershave was a light, herbal scent of something expensive. His clothes were impeccable for a summer weekend night. He leaned in to kiss her, and she smelled peppermint candy on his breath. His lips were soft, and she could feel a slight prickle from his beard. The tension on her mouth from his traveled down her neck, through her shoulders, erecting her nipples, and then went straight to her crotch. He didn’t open his mouth; it was a friendly kiss, a respectful kiss, one that was asking if there would be more from her if he played his cards right.
“You know where I live. Meet me there in twenty minutes.” She slid out the other side of the booth, and when she stood up and turned to look at him, he was smiling up at her. She found herself wondering if he had an erection already or if he would pop a Viagra in his mouth on the way to her apartment. What difference does it make? She desperately wanted him to fuck her. She stood up straight as she walked out of the bar, knowing he was looking at her.
After she put her car in the garage, she went up to her apartment to take a quick shower and straighten her bedroom up a little bit. Her sheets hadn’t been changed since she spent the weekend in Rhinebeck, but that was barely a week ago. She used soap that smelled like roses; Jack used to buy it for her and then make her wash with it before they made love. Pam used it, too, so she wouldn’t get suspicious if he came home smelling of roses. Tonight, it would make no difference what she smelled of. Is Steve Marks married? She didn’t know if she cared yet. This was nothing more than a one-night stand; if it evolved into more, then she would ask those important questions.
Putting on Jack’s favorite robe, she thought maybe Steve would like it, too. It was a royal-blue silk kimono, short and secured loosely with a tie belt. She was naked under it. Examining her body in the mirror, she still looked young; her stomach as flat as a board and her breasts high and firm. She didn’t look forty-five and knew it. She would flaunt it tonight.
The buzzer went off. She unlocked the door without speaking into the intercom. A minute later, there was a soft tap at the door. She looked through the peephole and unlocked the door to let him in. She had a moment of fear. What if he’s a murderer? No one knew she was with him.
He walked in and, without a word, closed the door and gently pulled her to him. If he was a killer, she would soon find out. It was a risk she was willing to take because tonight, she needed to be loved.
Chapter 42
Sunday in Manhattan. Sunday brunch was a tradition on the Upper West Side. There were at least twenty restaurants that served brunch uptown. Sandra’s favorite was Chantal’s, not just because it was the last place that she and Jack went together, but because they had fabulous pancakes. And she was ravenous for pancakes.
Tom spent the night, once again sleeping on the couch downstairs. Sandra was a little disappointed that he didn’t stay upstairs with her, but he seemed reluctant. She was more than willing to make love to him, even making a suggestive move toward his crotch, but he backed off without saying anything. The temptation to read more into his behavior than she should loomed large. Is he not interested in sex with me? Or does he want to take more time before we make love? It had only been a week! So she kissed him goodnight and allowed him to tuck her in.
She woke up shortly after eight, and not hearing any noise coming from the lower level, she tiptoed down the stairs to see if he was still sleeping. She was shocked to see that he wasn’t there, and it didn’t look like the couch had been slept on. The sheets were neatly made up. If he had slept there, he would have unmade the couch and folded the sheets up. She looked around, checking the bathroom. Nothing. She went back upstairs and found the note he had left her on the dining table. She sat down and, with trembling hands, unfolded the Dear Jane letter that Tom Adams had left for her:
Dear Sandra,
I’m sorry I didn’t discuss my intentions with you last night. The timing just wasn’t right. I wanted you to get some sleep, and what I had to say could wait until the morning. I knew while we were at your friend’s house that I had made rash decisions about our future without knowing all the facts.
First of all, I can hardly expect you to relinquish your past to be in a relationship with me. In order for me to adopt your baby and raise him as my own child, I would want to do just that. The life I had envisioned for us isn’t realistic. That guy you were involved with seems to have drawn you and those sisters together pretty tightly. There seems to be bond between the three of you that I don’t have the energy or the desire to circumvent.
Secondly, although you were honest with me about your relationship with your lover’s wife, it doesn’t change the fact that she was still married to him when you were sleeping with him. I guess the impact of the deception didn’t hit me until I saw you with his wife today.
I must have been awfully naive to think I could come in and make you forget your past completely. Your future will be tied up in the lives of your lover’s family, and I don’t have any desire to be involved with them myself.
What I am trying to say is that I don’t think we should see each other anymore. I am sorry that I pushed so much on you so quickly. And I swear it doesn’t have anything to do with your health concerns.
Good luck! You’re a fabulous woman!
Tom Adams
“Huh?” Sandra said out loud. She looked out the window at the birdfeeders. They needed filling before she went for her own breakfast. Restraining herself from tearing the letter up into little pieces, she folded it back up and stuffed it into her purse. Then she went to her closet to get the white sundress she had worn the last time she was with Jack. She was taking herself out to brunch.
Chapter 43
Bernice Smith was still in bed on Sunday morning when she heard a knock at her bedroom door. She struggled to get up, yelling out, “Come in.”
It was Mildred. She had morning coffee and a light breakfast.
“What’s this all about, Millie?” she asked.
“Miss Pam called this morning, madam. She said to tell you she was on her way to take you to brunch. She said she won’t take no for an answer.”
Bernice frowned. “Oh, what does she want to do that for?” she asked petulantly. “I don’t want to see Pam!”
Mildred ignored her, pulling a small table up to the bedside and placing the tray there. She helped Bernice swing her legs over the side of the bed so she could eat something. Pam wouldn’t be there until eleven. Bernice had lost so much weight that the staff was alarmed. They made it a point now to cook and serve her something to eat at least four times a day, whether she asked for it or not.
“The coffee smells so good this morning, doesn’t it? I’m tempted to have a cup with you,” Mildred said. “Here’s a nice muffin Alice made just for you.”
Since Bill had been taken back to prison last week, Bernice had deteriorated further. Mildred called Pam in the morning to warn her; she was concerned that the doctor should be called on Monday morning. Bernice sipped the coffee and took the piece of muffin Mildred had buttered for her. She slowly came around, the friendly Bernice replacing the whiney, crabby Bernice. They would juxtapose throughout the day.
“When you’re done eating, you need to have your shower and get dressed for the day. Where do you think Pam is taking you?”
“How should I know? I haven’t been to brunch with Pam since Lisa was a baby and they moved out to the island.” She chewed the muffin slowly, closing her eyes and savoring it. “This is so good. What is that flavor?”
“I think she used nutmeg in this batch. The whole kitchen smelled fragrant this morning. There’s nothing like fresh muffins for breakfast.” Mildred went to the closet and got out clean clothing for her employer, who could no longer be trusted to notice that what she was wearing was dirty. The phone began ringing. Mildred walked over to the night table and picked up Bernice’s phone. “Smith residence,” she said
. “Yes, she’s awake. Who’s speaking, please? One moment.” Mildred stretched the phone cord to reach Bernice. “It’s Miss Sandra, madam.”
Bernice’s countenance completely changed. She almost bounced up and down on the edge of the bed. She had forgotten that it was because of Sandra that her only surviving son was in prison for twenty years. “Sandra, my dear! How are you? I am so glad you called,” Bernice gushed. Then, “Well, actually, Pam is on her way over to take me to brunch. Would you like to join us? Oh, I’m sure it would be okay with Pam!” Bernice looked at Mildred with lowered eyebrows and mouthed, Goddamned Pam. She listened some more and then said, “Well, okay, Sandra, I’ll tell her to call you as soon as she gets here. I miss you! Good-bye.”
She gave the phone to Mildred. “She’s going to brunch alone, but needs to talk to Pam. Humph! I would have thought she would attempt to come and see me! Oh well, I can’t expect everything to go my way, now can I?” She pushed the table away and stood up on unsteady feet. “I want a shower now. I think I can manage alone this morning, Mildred.”
Mildred, however, was not going anywhere. History had proven that the old lady might forget what she was doing and never make it to the shower. No, Mildred would stay close by. Ben would get the door if Miss Pam showed up early.
Bernice struggled to get bathed and dressed without help, but she accomplished it and looked a little like her old, self-assured self. But it would not be enough to fool Pam, who was stunned at the transformation of her mother-in-law in one week from a formidable, dignified woman to an old, stooped hag. The years of alcohol, of denial and pain, were clearly written all over Bernice’s face. It had finally caught up with her.
Is it inevitable that our sins will be revealed? Pam thought. A person may not admit them out loud, or even to themselves privately, but they will not be denied. The life you live will show on your face and body eventually. Here was a woman who had, if the stories were true, been drunk every night of her children’s youth to escape the acts of depravity being committed right under her nose. She had turned the other cheek when her husband chose the beds of her sons rather than her own and then allowed him back when the boys were old enough to repel their father’s advances.
But were Bernice’s sins any different than Pam’s? Pam had looked the other way, too. She had allowed the worst kind of abuse in her own house, under her own nose. Jack wasn’t as brutal as Harold had been, or was he? Jack having given her AIDS was proof that there was something else in his life yet to be uncovered. Pam was suddenly cold in the August heat. What more will I discover?
Ben let Pam in when she knocked on the door, and showed her to the den. She inquired after Bernice’s well-being, and he would only say, “Madam is well.” Mildred came in next with the offer of coffee, but Pam wanted to take Bernice out as soon as she came down, so she refused.
Her purpose in showing up today was to let Bernice know she had decided to spend some time that winter living in the mansion. It was hers, after all. She held a mortgage on it, and although the house had been paid for many years ago, the money Jack had given his family in return for the lien had been frittered away on who knew what. She would lay hands on the title to the property and sell it without hesitation if there was any resistance to her request. For some reason, Pam felt empowered by this for the first time in many years. Not normally a bully, this vindictiveness allowed Pam to be assertive. She would only play those cards if she were forced. This was her children’s legacy, this giant old place in the prime area of the city. What had been stolen from them by their father’s perversity would be restored in brick and mortar. They would never want for anything, those two.
Bernice came into the den on unsteady feet. Even though she saw her mother-in-law just a short week ago, the change was dramatic. Pam hid her surprise and went to her, putting her arms around her with a cheerful hello. Before they completed their hug, Bernice said, “Sandra wants you to call her before you go home. She is going to brunch alone and can’t join us.”
Pam thought Bernice was pouting and let it slide. My mother-in-law likes Sandra better than me, but so what? “All righty! Let’s you and I go to Tavern on the Green, shall we? I haven’t been there since Bill’s wedding!”
Pam had pushed the right buttons as she led Bernice out to the hall and the front door. Bernice cheered right up. “Oh, that was a beautiful wedding, wasn’t it?” she asked. “I’ll never forget the music and dancing into the night. The Tavern on the Green is a monument to grace and civility, don’t you think? I heard it was in bankruptcy. How can that be?”
Ben brought the car around front, and the women got into the backseat while he waited, holding the door, a servant from an earlier time when people had expendable wealth as they never would again. Bernice still acted like a rock star. But that would be coming to an end. She was having a time of lucidity and sharp memory. She spoke of the changes the city was going through, the grittiness of some parts of Manhattan that made places like Columbus Avenue stand out. It made her sad, she said.
“I used to love going to Anne and Bill’s in the Village. I knew Anne wasn’t thrilled with me being there, but the change from the mansion, the vibrancy of those little boys, it just revived me. What is going on with Anne and Bill, anyway? No one will tell me anything.” She looked directly at Pam, with clarity and not her usual derision.
“Anne is in jail. I thought about dropping the charges and still might. Bill is back at Rikers for holding Sandra against her will.” Pam saw no reason to hide the truth from Bernice. “You and I can go to visit both of them—Anne tomorrow and Bill on Wednesday. Would you like that?”
“I suppose. How do you survive visiting your only son in jail?” Bernice stopped there, knowing that if she voiced her opinion of her son’s innocence that Pam might argue with her. It was easier just to keep one’s mouth shut. She would be able to act the lady for a few hours in her daughter-in-law’s presence.
Pam thought it was time to change the subject. “I’m going to stay with you for a few days, Mother Smith. It’s lonely at the beach right now. The children will be home Thursday, but I thought it might do both of us some good to have company. What do you think?”
Bernice had turned to look at Pam, mouth agape. “You are kidding, correct? Why would you stay with me when you have that lovely apartment?” Bernice did not want Pam staying with her, no matter what the circumstances. “I think it would be somewhat of an inconvenience to my staff,” she said, with her chin in the air. “Really, Pam, have you lost all sense of propriety? Ha-ha, aren’t you supposed to ask before you swoop in to invade someone’s home?” Bernice snickered out loud. Really, my daughter-in-law is a hick.
“Well, Mother Smith, be that the case, I am staying at the mansion. Also, I intend on moving in for the winter. I don’t relish the idea of being alone at the beach in the snow and wind.” She rearranged her purse on her lap, and her posture said, No more need be spoken of this.
However, Bernice was far from finished. She threw her body forward and pounded on the glass partition. “Ben! Stop the car!” Her driver pulled over to the curb. “Pam Smith, you will not tell me what you are going to do in my own house. That’s preposterous. I can’t imagine where you got your manners! I don’t want you to stay with me. Is that clear enough?” Bernice was trying for an intimidating glare at her daughter-in-law, but she wasn’t able to pull it off. Her lower lip was hanging out a full inch from her upper, her eyes were bugged out, and she reminded Pam of a cartoon character. Pam didn’t want to hurt the old lady, so she stifled her laughter. But she was going to pull the foreclosure card after all, not wanting to be a brute, but having to have the upper hand.
“Bernice, I don’t want to rub this in, but I own the mansion now. You haven’t paid a dime on the mortgage for more than a year. Do we really want to go into that? Wouldn’t it just be easier to allow me access to what is legally my home, too? After all, I pay the bills here and the staff salaries. I’m lonely, and my mother and you could keep each ot
her company.”
Bernice exploded. “Your mother? I will not have that lowlife of a woman in my lovely home, not for a minute or a day! What in God’s name has come over you?” She fell back onto the seat, out of breath.
Pam tapped on the window and told Ben to return home.
“I never thought this would happen to me. My own home, taken over by scum.” And then she started crying, childish boohooing. “I don’t want you to move in! I want to be alone with my memories! It’s my house!” she whined.
Pam had to turn her head to keep from laughing out loud. The woman was a lunatic.
“My mother is great, and you have enjoyed each other’s company in the past. You’ll be fine, I promise you.” And then silently Pam thought, I will tell you that if you don’t allow me to come, I am going to fire your staff, and you, my friend, are moving to assisted living. There will be nowhere else for you to go.
Chapter 44
Pam and Bernice returned to Columbus Avenue without having had brunch. Mildred was waiting for them with a questioning look on her face, but Bernice was not finished with her tirade. Bernice didn’t notice that Pam had her arm and was helping her up the steps to the entryway.
Pam asked Ben to bring her bags in and put them upstairs.
“Mildred,” Pam said as they were helping a sobbing Bernice into the house, “I’ll be staying with you for a few days. What room do you suggest I use? I’d like to be as close to Madam as possible.”
That brought a fresh torrent of cries from Bernice.
Mildred and Pam were trying not to smile, although Mildred did think it was appalling for Mrs. Smith to be acting so ungrateful.
“Yes, Miss Pam, I have a room for you” was all Mildred said.
Don't You Forget About Me: Pam of Babylon Book #2 Page 24