Ashton lifted his head up from Jack’s shoulder. “Are you protecting her?” he asked. Jack could be careless about so much; Ashton hoped it didn’t include keeping the woman he loved safe.
Jack wouldn’t be drawn into the conversation; it was answer enough. He wasn’t protecting Sandra, as he hadn’t protected Pam or Maryanne or Dale or the other women he’d been with. He didn’t care about them, because he didn’t care about himself. “Don’t cry, Ashton. I love you. You’ll see; I’m not going anywhere. They say you can live a normal life with AIDS now.”
“Yeah, but that’s if you take the drugs for it, you fool! You should be taking everything they have to offer,” Ashton said. “I take six pills a day.”
Jack looked him, confused. “You take something for it? I didn’t know,” Jack said.
Ashton just shook his head. “We were together at the clinic, don’t you remember? Oh, Jack.” A fresh torrent of tears, but not for long. He wouldn’t cry again for his beloved friend because the end was coming for their relationship. Ashton was tired of Jack disrupting the peace and rhythm of his life. He would no longer beg Jack to make time for him as he had in the past. Their morning coffee would be enough from now on. Ashton had made the vow to himself and it stuck. What troubled him was that Jack never asked for more. Was he being dragged into their relationship because Ashton demanded it? Pam would confirm it when she told Ashton after Jack’s death that Jack hadn’t really been there with her anymore. He’d responded, but never initiated. And he had a new young girlfriend who would later say that the sex was just so-so. Poor Jack was just tuckered out.
20
Nelda Fabian was doing the best she could to hide how annoyed she was at having her day disrupted. Pam called to report that Marie was ill; she’d been hospitalized over the weekend, and now her boyfriend had to go to work and wasn’t comfortable leaving her alone.
“Mom, just go down there for a few hours a day until she up to taking care of herself. No one is asking you to move in with her,” Pam said.
“How sick can she be that she needs a babysitter?” Nelda retorted with her usual compassion. “I finally have some time to myself and now I’ve got to start with Marie again.”
“Mother, you’ve had time alone for the past thirty years. Marie needs someone to help her out and I can’t do it. That leaves you. If you aren’t able to, maybe you shouldn’t be left alone, either,” Pam said, hinting at the assisted living center two miles east.
Nelda huffed, “Well! You don’t have to threaten me! I’ll go! What’s the address? I suppose I have to take the subway,” she complained.
“Mother, when in God’s name did you ever have to take the subway? Ben is right there at your beck and call. He’ll drive you downtown.” Pam was prepared to harp at her mother until she caved, and Nelda felt it. She noticed that her wimpy daughter was not going to back down. She had to admit it; the girl had gotten it together.
Nelda rode to Twenty-Third Street in a limousine. She sat in the back like a prim little bird and waited for Ben to get out and open her door, and then insisted that he help her up a flight of six stairs, even though in the mansion, she ran up and down flights of twenty steps without problem.
“Please wait until she answers the door,” Nelda instructed Ben with her chin in the air. In less than a minute, the buzzer sounded and Ben opened the door for her. “Please come back for me in an hour.”
Ben tipped his hat and turned his back to her to descend the steps, rolling his eyeballs. She could be impossible. He would call Pam to find out when to pick Nelda up.
Nelda expected Marie to be waiting at the door, so as she mounted the steps to the apartment, the tension built in her neck and shoulders. She set her jaw. This child has been a pain from the beginning. Nelda conveniently forgot the stress of having a mentally ill child while she was living at the mansion. She pretended to belong there, that the staff were her servants. She forgot about grandchildren and anorexia, dead husbands, and houses in Brooklyn. When she got to the top of the landing, the door was open a crack, so she pushed it open and went in.
The apparition sitting in the chair at the kitchen table wasn’t anyone she knew. It was a skeleton with a ravaged face, scalp showing through bald patches of dirty hair, smoking a cigarette. She was sitting with one stick leg under her.
“Marie?” Nelda asked, unsure if she had walked into her death chamber or if this was the house of her daughter. The apparition blew cigarette smoke out in a stream and focused her eyes on her mother.
“That’s me. So, mother! You made the trip down! Was it awful? Or did that limo driver take some of the effort from you?” Marie lowered her eyelids. “Did you come on your own? Or did Pam have to pay you to visit me?”
Nelda felt Marie’s hostility. In times past, it would have angered her but this time she was frightened. She knew she’d been a bad mother, but since everyone had turned out okay, she thought maybe she’d gotten away with it. Maybe there wouldn’t be any retribution. Now she wasn’t so sure.
“Of course Pam didn’t have to pay me! She told me you’re sick and needed someone to come by and see you. If you are going to be mean to me, I’ll leave,” Nelda said, knowing that if she did, there would be hell to pay.
“Leave. It won’t be any sweat off my ass. As you can see, I’m not in any position to make you stay.” Marie took a last drag off the cigarette and smashed it out on a saucer. She got up from the chair slowly, Nelda gasping at the vision. Was Marie on crystal meth? Nelda watched enough TV to know what drugs did to people. Something was definitely not right.
Marie noticed her mother’s shock. “Yeah, I look like hell, don’t I?” She walked to the sink, holding onto chairs and the counter as she made her way slowly across the room.
Nelda finally came back to reality. This was her daughter! She’d make amends for neglecting her as a small child. There was obviously something very wrong with Marie. Nelda put her purse down on a kitchen chair and started taking her coat off. “Do you need water?” Nelda asked as Marie fumbled at the sink.
Once Marie had reached the sink she’d forgotten why she was there. It didn’t look to Nelda like she knew how to turn the water on. Nelda walked around the table to the sink and stood next to her daughter. “Can I help you?” she asked gently. Oh God, no.
“I need something,” Marie said, confused, trying to figure out what the faucets were for.
Nelda was confounded. Did Pam know her sister was this bad off? Nelda opened cupboards until she found a glass. “How about some water?” Nelda filled the glass part way and held it for Marie, not sure if she had the strength to hold it up to her mouth. What in God’s name has happened to my daughter? She would call Pam as soon as she could. Gently putting an arm around Marie, Nelda prompted her to walk toward the couch. “Would you like to sit down?”
Marie followed her mother into the sitting area and slowly lowered herself onto the cushion. Nelda could see the bones of Marie’s pelvis through the back of her sweatpants. Her heart started pounding. This was more than anorexia. “Here’s an afghan,” Nelda said, covering her. “Do you want the TV on?” But Marie had put her head back and closed her eyes. Nelda looked around the room for a telephone; there was one on a small dresser in the hallway entrance. She quietly walked into the back of the apartment, not noticing much about it except it seemed clean enough. She punched in the numbers to Pam.
Seeing it was Steve’s number, Pam answered on the first ring.
“What the hell happened here?” Nelda whispered, the unaccustomed cursing evidence of her concern.
“I know, Mother. That’s why you needed to be there.
What condition is she in today?” Pam didn’t want to divulge more than was necessary, unless Marie was in agreement.
“She couldn’t even pour her own glass of water because she couldn’t figure out the faucet. What’s wrong with her?” The magnitude of what it could be was lurking in Nelda’s mind, but she didn’t know the cause. Had Marie lost her mind? sh
e thought in her simplicity. Pam decided to stick to basic facts.
“She has some kind of brain infection, Mother. Steve brought here for the weekend, and half the time I’m not sure she knew where she was. She had a doctor’s appointment this morning.” Pam’s concern was growing; the temptation to start worrying about what was going to happen was strong. They should really start making some kind of arrangements for Marie’s care.
“Oh no, that sounds so awful. How did she get a brain infection? It doesn’t make any sense. Why isn’t she in the hospital?” Nelda often revealed her intellect at the worst possible time.
“The hows and whys are not important, Mother. Who knows? The doctor said she is too vulnerable to stay in the hospital because of resistant bacteria or something like that, so they’re going to treat her at home. A visiting nurse is supposed to come by later this evening to start an IV and give her some drugs.” Nelda’s anxiety was transferring to Pam. What the hell are we going to do about Marie?
“Mom, I’m hungry!” Marie yelled. She’d roused out of her somnolence long enough to feel pain in her stomach.
“Let me go; she’s calling for food,” Nelda told Pam. They said good-bye.
Pam hoped that in her stupor, Marie would reveal all to her mother and therefore take the burden of proof off Pam.
Nelda set about doing nurturing tasks for her youngest daughter, who would drift in and out of sleep for the rest of the afternoon. When Steve got home, Nelda cornered him without mercy. “What is going on?” she demanded. “My daughter can’t even bathe herself.”
Steve was backed up against a wall, literally. “Hi, my name is Steve. Who are you?”
Nelda visibly relaxed and gave a rare laugh. She stuck out her hand to shake his. “I’m Marie’s mother, Nelda Fabian. I’m sorry. This is just such a shock. No one told me she’d been sick.” She turned and went back into the sitting area to see if Marie was still sleeping, pulling the afghan up around boney shoulders. “I know from just the few hours I was here today that she can’t stay home alone.” Nelda turned to look at him. “I’d like to take her home with me, to the mansion. I’m sure Pam will agree. You are welcome to come, too, of course.”
The offer was so welcome that Steve fought the urge to embrace Nelda, whose reputation for being a cold bitch preceded her visit. But the truth was that if Marie was so bad that Nelda was bathing her, her AIDS status needed to be revealed as well as the pregnancy. This is turning out to be a huge cluster fuck. What the hell did I do to deserve this?
Pam and Steve spoke briefly on the phone and agreed that Nelda needed to be told the truth if she was willing to care for her daughter. But who would do it? Pam didn’t want to, but she didn’t think it was fair to unload the task on Steve. In the end, they decided to get Marie to do it in one of her lucid moments, which occurred throughout the day. He walked out into the kitchen where Nelda was making tea. Marie was up, sitting at the table, looking better.
“My mom’s here,” she said to Steve, winking at him. “Surprise, surprise.”
Nelda wasn’t laughing. “What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked. “I come when I’m needed.”
Marie decided to cut her a break. “Yeah, you do most of the time. So how’d work go, Steve? Who’s going to take my projects?” They chatted about business for a few minutes, Steve putting her mind at ease.
“I’ve got your back, honey. Don’t worry about work.” Nelda listened to the exchange and it brought tears to her eyes. It was obvious that Steve cared for her daughter.
“So I think we should tell your mom our news, Marie.” Steve walked around to the back of her chair and hugged her.
Marie looked up at him, fear and a little confusion mixed together. “You do? Oh boy,” she said.
Nelda was frozen in place. Steve placed his hand over Marie’s sunken belly while Nelda looked on, stunned. She figured it out right away; Marie had to be pregnant. Great! Nelda thought. Pregnant and a brain infection! How much worse could this get? One daughter with AIDS and now a pregnant imbecile.
Marie looked up to speak to Nelda. But by the look on Nelda’s face, a grimace almost, even a confused Marie got it that her mother was on to her. “Well, did you figure it out, Mom? I’m pregnant! Forty-five, fucked up, and pregnant. But I’m happy about it and want the baby, so don’t start with your negative crap.”
“I would never say anything negative about a baby on its way! If you had asked me when you were trying, I may have advised against it, but not after it’s already there. You must have me confused with someone else.” She stood at the sink folding a towel, observing her daughter.
Marie wasn’t finished though. “Yeah, well it wasn’t like we were trying, okay? I didn’t set out to get pregnant, if that’s what you’re driving at.” She looked up at Steve and smiled. “Stevie, I think now is as good a time as any to break the other news.” Steve took a step toward her. He was not sure why but he had the impulse to clamp his hand across her mouth.
Nelda saw the gesture and felt his intention and she started to laugh. “Oh, my! I know exactly what you’re feeling. You don’t know how many times I have wanted to shove a sock down that throat just to shut her up!” What she had just revealed embarrassed her; she didn’t intend to expose such an intimate and negative feeling to a complete stranger.
Marie frowned. “Thanks, Mom. Maybe that’s why I grew up at Pam’s house.”
Fortunately, she stopped there. Steve was panicstricken, wanting Nelda to take Marie with her. If AIDS or HIV or Jack, the child molester, were brought up, they’d never leave.
“I think it’s more important to get you settled uptown. We can continue this conversation there, okay you two?” Steve urged Marie to get up. “Come on, you can’t go out dressed like this.” Nelda watched him but didn’t offer to help. There’s more here than meets the eye, she thought, suspicious. The couple disappeared back into their bedroom.
“Where are you taking me?” she asked.
“Your mother is going to nurse you back to health up in that mansion. The life of Riley!” he said cryptically.
Marie started pouting. “I don’t want to go up there. I want to stay with you.” she raised her arms up while he pulled her sweatshirt off.
“I was invited. But you can’t stay here alone during the day,” he explained. “Let’s try it out tonight and if you really hate it, I’ll come and get you after work tomorrow. That might be a plan. You can stay up there while I work.” They pulled a few things together, a book she was reading and her makeup bag and a few clothes. He’d bring up more of her things later. They walked out to the kitchen together, Marie looking slightly better in clean clothes, but still in need of a major weight gain. Nelda couldn’t believe that Marie’s decrepit frame could maintain a pregnancy.
“I’ll drive us up in Marie’s car so we can leave it there, if that’s okay. We only have street parking here,” Steve said. “Should we call and announce our intentions?”
“Good idea,” Nelda said. “Can I have the phone?” Steve retrieved the phone and Nelda called and spoke with Mildred. She would get a room ready for Marie.
Steve stashed everything in the trunk of Marie’s car. Nelda and Marie sat in the back seat, silent. Steve looked at them in the rearview mirror; mother and daughter had the same facial structure and although Nelda wasn’t a bad looking woman, compared to her daughter, she was gorgeous. Marie’s illness was ravaging her appearance.
They arrived at the mansion and Nelda instructed Steve to drive through the gate to the private entrance at the back of the house; the door the help used. He wondered if she was being cagy because her daughter looked so bad. A uniformed man, probably their driver, was waiting, along with a younger woman in surgical scrubs. Nelda introduced them as Ben and Candy. Candy got Steve’s attention and he hung back as Mildred and Nelda helped Marie into the house.
“Miss Pam called a few minutes ago. She told me about Marie having AIDS. I don’t see any reason for the rest of the household to have t
hat information, okay? I didn’t know if you already mentioned it to Nelda or intended on doing so?” Candy asked.
Steve shook his head no. “If Marie wants to divulge it to her mother, she can do that in her own time. I wanted to get her settled first. Are you a nurse?” He was clearly confused. Who else worked here?
“No, I’m Mrs. Smith’s personal care assistant, but I worked as a nurse’s aide at Lenox Hill for years,” she explained. “There’s plenty of time for all revelations to be made.”
He followed her into the house, looking around in amazement at the space. His entire apartment would fit in the kitchen alone. Mildred led the entourage through the expansive house and up a daunting staircase to a bedroom at the top. It was a generic guest room, but comfortable, and Nelda’s room was across the hall so she would be available if necessary. Marie would have her own bathroom, with bulbous, old-fashioned fixtures and a giant stained-glass window above the tub. It was very church-like.
Marie looked around at the high ceilings and ornate moldings, the damask drapery, and satin bedcovers. “I feel like you guys are preparing for me to die,” Marie said.
Bernice joined the group and they all murmured placations. Only Steve stayed silent. Why am I leaving her here? Is it only because she needs care during the day? Or is it her last resting place before she dies? His thoughts unnerved him and he stepped forward, grabbing her and hugging her. This was his Marie. “Oh God, no! Don’t even say that! We want you to be safe and taken care of so you’ll get better. When the baby comes, you want to be able to take care of him yourself, don’t you?” He looked down at her, staring into her eyes. She looked so awful, emaciated, and haggard. He had to choke back the tears.
But Marie was slick. She might not let on that she knew what the MO was. She played dumb so that Steve could go home and get some rest before another day at work. As far as her mother was concerned, she planned to run her to death. Her mother would be the scapegoat for the years of abuse at the hand of Jack, and all the detritus he left behind.
Prayers for the Dying: Pam of Babylon Book #4 Page 12