“Have you met the rest of the family yet?” Gwen asked. When Sandra shook her head no, Gwen gave her a little smirk. “Well, you didn’t hear it from me, but don’t let them know you met John and me. The girls can’t stand me and have cut John out of their lives. It’s sad, actually.”
“Tom didn’t think they would mind me, or at least the idea of me. He said they weren’t possessive,” Sandra said.
Gwen seemed surprised. “I don’t want to worry you because there is nothing you could do to change their opinions anyway. Just be yourself. Of course, they will be jealous of you because you are beautiful. Unfortunately, both girls look like their mother—a sort of gnomelike creature,” Gwen confided in a whisper.
Sandra was taken aback but tried not to be judgmental. Evidently, Tom looked like his dad. “It must have been difficult coming into the family,” Sandra replied, hoping she sounded compassionate enough.
“Did Tom tell you the story?” Gwen asked, seeming hopeful that Sandra would say no.
“Just that his parents are divorced, and he thinks you’re wonderful,” Sandra told her. The little prompting gave Gwen the opening she needed to launch into full disclosure.
“They were married for twenty-five years before he found the courage to leave. Did you know John’s an alcoholic?” she asked, but didn’t wait for Sandra’s response, which would have been no. “They’d stayed together for the kids’ sake, and when Tommy, who’s the youngest, turned twenty-one, John left. The girls love to tell everyone I broke the marriage up, but it’s a lie. We didn’t even meet until the next year. He’s a retired NYC cop, did you know that? I don’t think I would have survived with him if he was still working. He walked a beat for all those years, riding the subway. Tommy’s lucky he made detective so young, just in time to save his knees. Anyway, John was assigned to the park during a summer fitness expo and I was teaching a class for Crunch. The rest is history. He likes telling people that he had to chase me, but that’s not true. I fell in love with him the first time we talked. I have a thing about uniforms…and he said he had a thing for athletes!” she exclaimed, laughing. “I saw admiration in his eyes. Later, I discovered that he tried all those years to involve his wife in things they could share and she wouldn’t have any of it. We golf, hike, bicycle, you name it. You do any sports? You’re in such good shape, you must work out, at least,” Gwen said.
Sandra shook her head, trying to hide the horror she felt at the prospect of spending time on the golf course or in hiking boots with Tom’s family. Tom had never said a thing to her about doing any of those activities. Walking to the park was the extent of their physical activity. Maybe socializing with the gnomes would be easier.
“Well, don’t worry. I can see by your expression you aren’t interested!” Gwen said, laughing again.
“I have an extensive wardrobe of spandex that I wear to clean house in. That’s the extent of my exercise routine. Tom and I walk a lot, though, if that counts,” Sandra answered, thinking that since she lost the baby, she’d taken to walking long distances when the sadness became too much for her. She put those thoughts away.
“I have an obsessive personality about it,” Gwen admitted. Sandra thought of Pam and her daily, sometimes twice daily trips to the gym. “It grounds me. If I start to worry about something, there’s nothing like a good run to clear the mind.”
Sandra wondered if any of those “worries” would be shared, and was relieved when the men caught up with them. Tom was holding a bag with something that looked like a sword sticking out of the top.
“My son is pack rat, Sandra,” John warned.
“Where does he keep it?” she asked.
“In my mother’s basement,” Tom answered. “Weapons. Hundreds of them.”
Sandra thought, Ugh, guns. I hate violence and I end up with a cop who collects instruments of murder.
“Well, whatever makes you happy. I guess. I sort of collect books,” Sandra said, thinking how dull it sounded. I really am a dud.
“She runs a successful demographic company! Don’t let her fool you with putting herself down,” Tom exclaimed, coming around to put his arm across her shoulder in a possessive stance. They started laughing.
“Well, whatever,” Sandra said, embarrassed. Tom was certainly sending her mixed messages. Either he was proud of her or threatened by her. Which was it? She could see that perhaps she was being hasty; they were both young and immature. Maybe she’d better speak to him tonight, rather than guessing what she should do to make him feel more secure. The simplicity of it surprised her. Am I stupid? Would I second-guess him and make another big mistake?
The couples parted; John Adams hugging Sandra and telling her how happy he was that his son found someone so nice, and Gwen chiming in with the promise to call her later. Was Gwen going to be her new best friend? Sandra was confirming the wisdom of having no family. She hadn’t talked to her own sister in over six months. There were moments when she definitely felt the absence of an intimate friend. But the criticism she knew would have been forthcoming if Sylvia knew the truth and how her life was evolving would be unbearable.
The car was quiet on the trip back to Williamsburg. Tom looked over at Sandra; her head back against the headrest, her eyes closed. Her eyelids were translucent, cheek, jaw, and collar bones prominent. He felt a rush of tenderness and concern for her. Reaching over to place his hand over hers, he thought of some of the things that had bothered him lately and how ridiculous and unimportant they were. He couldn’t seem to shake the jealousy he felt toward a dead man. Some guy who was twice as old and a leech. He didn’t have any control over Sandra’s memories, but why would he doubt her commitment to him when Jack was dead? He had to do some soul-searching; he sensed she was holding back some feeling from him because of his reaction to her job, which was consistently unsupportive. She no longer shared her day-to-day experiences with him. Shamed, he was determined to overcome the resistance he felt when confronted with her job. He’d even surprised himself today when he praised her in front of his father. He was proud of her. Even though her business was acquired in a sort of clandestine way, Jack wouldn’t have left it to her if he thought she couldn’t be trusted to make a success of it; it would continue to support his family and he wouldn’t risk that, would he? Tom decided he would be honest with Sandra and try to make amends. If she wanted to remain there as a partner, he would support her in it.
When the car came to a stop in front of his apartment Sandra opened her eyes.
“Wow, that was intense! I hope I didn’t snore,” she said stretching her arms above her head. “How long was I sleeping?”
“Not long, about twenty minutes. Listen, can we talk for a second? I want to say this while it’s fresh in my mind,” Tom said. Sandra nodded her head, curious. “I feel bad about the way I have acted, about being jealous of your job and giving you a hard time about Pam. I’m sorry that I was sharp with you the other night about being sad about the baby. That was really fucked-up of me. I won’t make any excuses for myself. Forgive me?”
Sandra looked at his eyes, at the way he was looking at her with compassion and regret combined, and was happy that she was taking her time with this relationship. They were both so young; what did either one of them know about being committed? About compromise and tolerance? Not much. She’d be as patient with him as she had to be. If what Gwen said was true, and Tom was a fanatic about the woman he would be with, she should be honored. She decided to tell him.
“I’m honored that you want me,” she said. “I’m honored that you allow me to share your life. I wish things could have been different, that we had known each other a few months sooner, and that none of the bad stuff had happened. But since it did and you still will have me, I am honored. I want to make you happy.” She leaned over and met him in the middle; they held each other and kissed. Finally Sandra fell back against the seat laughing. “Well, one of the best things about us is your kiss! Oh my God! I love it.”
Tom was embarrass
ed, but he smiled at her. “Let’s go inside,” he said, grinning a devious grin. “There are other good things about us and I want to have some of it now.”
18
Jeff Babcock lived down the beach from Pam and Jack Smith for fifteen years, but it wasn’t until Jack died and Jeff briefly dated Marie Fabian that he and Pam became good friends. He was more than a confidant of hers; she assumed that role for him, as well. Days before Thanksgiving, he was crossing the sand in the worst wind storm Long Island had had in over ten years to make sure his friend was okay. Her phone had gone unanswered for the past three hours. He went around to the front of the house and through her garage as was their agreement, and when she didn’t answer the door, he let himself in through the mudroom. He called her name three times and then listened for a full minute. Fearful that she had taken ill—it had happened before—he cautiously walked back to her bedroom suite, and knocking on the door, waited another few moments before he opened it. He saw her right away, on the floor by the side of the bed. He ran to her calling her name, but she didn’t respond. He didn’t bother to wait, got out his cell phone and called 9-1-1. Kneeling next to her, he determined that she was breathing, and although her color was awful, her pulse was strong and regular. He carefully rolled her over on her side and covered her with a blanket. After he unlocked the front door for the squad, he went back and sat on the floor next to Pam, patting her back and telling her she would be okay, that she wasn’t alone. The squad finally got to the house and gently picked Pam up off the floor for the ride on a stretcher. Once she was out of the house, Jeff started to cry. He and Pam had become dependent on each other and when she got sick, he felt like the rug had been pulled out from underneath him. She said much the same thing when he traveled to Spain with his mother in September.
“I’m so thrilled that you had the opportunity to get away, but I felt completely abandoned by you!” she’d laughed, but Jeff felt awful.
“I’ll never leave again,” he said. But they were just kidding each other. Pam’s new boyfriend didn’t fully understand the dynamic that drove the friendship until this latest hospital scare. Unlike Andy, who would use his policeman’s authority to invade Pam’s privacy while she was unconscious, Dave would listen to Jeff when he called him to notify him that Pam was ill.
“This is Pam’s neighbor, Jeff Babcock. I wanted to let you know that she is in the hospital.” Jeff let a second pass for Dave to ask questions and when there was shocked silence, he continued. “I tried calling her all morning and when she didn’t answer, I came over to make sure she was okay. I found her unresponsive; I called for the squad. They just came to get her.”
“I don’t know what to say,” Dave said. “What could be wrong with her? She was fine yesterday!”
“You know how she is, working out like a fiend and not eating enough to keep a bird alive. I bet it’s something minor like that. She’s had this before, where she gets depleted and it takes her down. She doesn’t like anyone seeing her without makeup and a hairdo, so it’s best if we both stay away until the hospital calls me that she is awake. I’ll call you as soon as I hear anything. Does that work for you?” Jeff asked.
“Okay, please do let me know right away. Thank you for calling me, Jeff.” They hung up and Jeff went back into Pam’s bedroom to her closet and retrieved the overnight bag that contained everything she needed for an emergency room visit. It turned out that she was simply suffering from exhaustion and after an EKG came back showing a normal heart, they discharged her. She was waiting in the lobby, embarrassed and contrite, when Jeff came to get her. Jeff was her rescuer.
He told her about his call to Dave and she resolved to phone him as soon as she got home.
“What would I do without you? Jeff, you are my best friend,” she said. “I hope I can pay you back some day.”
He patted her hand. “You pay me back every day just by being there for me. Thank you, Pam,” he said. He dropped her off at the front door. She promised to call him later in the evening. She wanted to freshen up and get in touch with Dave. She was sure he was concerned and probably confused, as well.
“I was shocked to get the call from that guy,” he said when Pam called him. “I’ve been worried all afternoon.”
“That’s why I’m getting in touch now, Dave. I knew you’d be concerned.” She detected a tone in his voice and decided to ignore it; it could be her imagination.
“Why does Jeff have a key to your house, if I may ask?” Dave said.
Pam thought, This guy is jealous of my gay friend? However, she wasn’t going to out Jeff, who was as private as she was. Not only that, but it didn’t escape her that rather than asking about her health and well-being, Dave was concentrating on Jeff. Oh shit, not another jerk.
“He’s my friend and neighbor, that’s all, Dave. I trust him to be discreet, as he does me.” She was praying that he would notice he hadn’t said anything about her health before too long; if the conversation lingered on Jeff she would chalk it up to bad manners on Dave’s part and call it a day. She couldn’t be in another relationship that revolved around the man.
Dave was silent for several moments. “So how do you feel?” he asked.
“I’m better, thanks.” She was biting her tongue and realized she was not going to ignore his bad behavior. “I was wondering when you were going to ask me.”
“Well, since you’re discharged already, there must not be anything wrong with you. False alarm!” he said, laughing.
Something about his cavalier attitude bothered Pam. It was one thing for the patient to laugh off an unnecessary trip to the ER, but quite another for an observer to do so. She was so relieved that she hadn’t slept with him yet, and for a moment she never wanted to see him again. Oh my God, she thought. I’m running through all the single men in town. First the cop, then the grocer. Who will be next? The hardware guy? My husband has only been dead for seven months. I’m going to end up with a reputation if I’m not careful. Would Dave tell his next girlfriend I have AIDS like that awful Andy did? Pam’s imagination went wild. She decided then to let him think that she was fine, that there was nothing wrong. She thought Dave wasn’t going to be loyal to her. He was critical and jealous. She would be cagey about ending their relationship; let him think he was in control.
“Yes, false alarm! I probably would have come to if Jeff hadn’t come by.” A lie, but one that would serve.
“I’ll bring dinner tonight,” he said. “What are you hungry for?”
Pam had no desire to spend a quiet evening by the fire with Dave. But she had just said she felt fine; how would she get out of it? “The doctors said I need to rest. I might be fine and a false alarm as you said, but I was still unconscious for three hours. I better beg off tonight,” she said with a hint of tiredness in her voice that was real.
“I’m sorry,” Dave said. “Get some rest, then. We’ll talk tomorrow?”
“Okay, tomorrow it is. Good-bye, Dave.” She hung up without waiting for his reply.
19
By the time both of his children were in college, Jack was finding it more and more difficult to spend an entire weekend at the beach. He still loved Pam, but his “craziness,” as his friends called it, was escalating. Ashton was getting worried about him, too. They were still close, but their relationship had taken on a platonic character as Jack aged and his testosterone level got lower and lower, their sexual acts limited to mutual masturbation.
“I’m worn out,” he said. “Who’d have ever thought it? Me! Spent!”
Ashton was trying not to drop to the floor laughing. “Oh my God, now you’re a drama queen, too! Honestly Jack, you should hear yourself. If you are worn out you should go home and stay there with your wife. From what I hear around town, she looks better now than she did ten years ago,” Ashton said. “I don’t understand what those other women are supposed to do for you. You have a beautiful wife waiting for you, and then you spend the evening with Maryanne.”
“Don’t talk about
her. You don’t know anything about it,” Jack snapped defensively.
“That’s my point! Why don’t I know? It doesn’t make any sense, Jack.” Ashton wasn’t going to let it go this time. He was tired of Jack’s elusiveness. If Jack got angry and left, never to return, it would be the best thing that could happen for Ashton.
“What doesn’t make any sense is for me to be with you,” Jack said, hoping to leave a little sting behind. “I’m not gay. I’m a straight man, married with two children who are both in college. I have a lovely wife and a beautiful house on the ocean. And let’s not forget, a gorgeous girlfriend waiting for me every night.”
Ashton laughed out loud. “I hate to tell you my dear friend, but that blow job you just got? The one where you cried out my name and held onto my head like a basketball? You’re gay! Oh Jesus Christ, you have really lost your mind.” Once he stopped laughing he looked at Jack. Suddenly, it wasn’t a laughing matter. Ashton saw the glassy look in Jack’s eyes, the gaunt frame, stylish in its slenderness but the opposite of the healthy Jack, the vibrant Jack. He’d been watching his weight; the doctor said his blood pressure was high. But Ashton wondered if the doctor really said that—if he was really supposed to be watching his weight. Could Jack’s HIV-positive status have converted? Did he now have AIDS? He walked to Jack’s chair and bent over him, wrapping his arms around his old friend, his lifetime lover. He took Jack’s chin in his hand and looked into his eyes. They told the story. Jack was dying. The whites of his eyes were slightly yellow, there was a vacancy in his stare that probably only Ashton could see. He knelt down next to Jack’s chair and holding him, he started crying.
“How long have you known?” he whispered. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Jack reached up and stroked Ashton’s back. “It had to happen eventually. What really irks me is that I had to start getting sick when Sandra came into my life. I think I love her, Ash. I think I want to be with her for the rest of my life, as short as that may be.”
Prayers for the Dying: Pam of Babylon Book #4 Page 11