“Sorry, Marie. I’ve been a little busy myself these past few months.”
That seemed to pull Marie back to earth. She leaned forward in her chair and reached for Sandra’s hand. “I’m so sorry. Of course, you’ve had a lot on your plate. Forgive me for being flip,” Marie said. “So, what are you two up to today? What made you come into town, Pam?”
“I had some business to attend to regarding you-know-who,” she said.
Marie frowned. “Will he ever go away?”
Pam walked to the door to make sure no one was outside listening. She carefully closed it. “His influence is diminishing for me; we found evidence that he was into kinky stuff with some shady characters,” Pam said softly. She’d kept private the many visits she had from Jack’s lovers, but it wasn’t fair to let Marie go on thinking his behavior was isolated to just her and Sandra.
Marie looked at her with eyebrows raised. “What was it? I mean, he was always trying to get me to do some sick shit. Sorry, Pam.” Marie was clearly embarrassed.
“Like what? I’m really interested, Marie. I promise I won’t get angry with you. I have to have the truth about everything. I can’t get on with my life, can’t date anyone. It’s impossible to even have a normal relationship with my children. Why’d I have to find all this out now? Twenty years ago I could have still protected you from him,” Pam said.
Marie didn’t answer her. What could she say? The gruesome details of her relationship with Jack were best kept under wraps. She was afraid that if she put the acts into words, she would never recover from it, mentally. The physical wounds were clear for all to see.
“It won’t do any good to rehash all that garbage now,” Marie said. “Let it go, Pam. If you found out something that might make it easier to let go of Jack, go for it. But dwelling on anything I did with him won’t help you. And it might hurt me to have to speak it. I am so ready to bury Jack in the deepest part of the ocean.”
Marie’s wisdom had some validity. Pam stood up and kissed her on the cheek. “I hope you’ll feel better soon. I better get going before it gets too late,” she said. “Do you think we can get out of here without having to say goodbye?”
“She’ll be hurt if you sneak out and then I’ll get the brunt of it,” Marie said, laughing. “Say good-bye to the old lady, too. She’s really out of it.”
Pam couldn’t stand seeing Bernice and didn’t care if Marie took some heat because she sneaked out of the house. “They’ll both get over it,” Pam said. “Come on, Sandra, let’s get out of here.” They said good-bye and quietly left the bedroom, tiptoeing down the staircase and out the door without discovery. Pam didn’t care if her mother never spoke to her again. She was in self-preservation mode, and until she felt stronger, she wasn’t going to worry about her family.
There was just a sliver of moon, but it was so clear that the stars provided some light on the beach in Babylon. Pam put the car away and went around locking the front of the house, but tonight she was going to bundle up and do some serious beach sitting. Hopefully, the solitude and the sound of the waves would help her come to some conclusions. She had an hour before she could call the young woman she encountered in the Times Square apartment. Call me after ten, she’d said.
Looking out over the water, she decided she would simply let the woman talk. She wanted her to have the apartment if she wanted it; it appeared that she was utilizing the devices in there, but the lease needed to go into her name. Pam considered that the woman might try to blackmail her to keep quiet. But wouldn’t she have come forward sooner? Pam gathered up her beach chair and the blanket she’d taken out and walked back up the pathway to the house. The holiday weekend had wiped away any trace of peace she’d garnered. A cup of tea and a snack was in order since she’d skipped dinner unintentionally; had she eaten at all today? The clock ticked the minutes and finally it was just after ten. Pam dug the card out of her purse. Blythe Smith. Smith? Confidential. And the phone number. Pam snickered. Confidential? She dialed the number and after it rang at least eight times, Pam was ready to hang up when it was answered. An out of breath Blythe.
“Hello? Mrs. Smith? Sorry, I left my phone in another room,” she said, catching her breath. “Thank you for calling me. I knew the lease would be up soon and didn’t know what to do. If you will allow it, I would like to keep the apartment.”
“Okay, that was my question. Do you want to go through the landlord? I’ll have to let him know Jack is deceased,” Pam said.
“Yes, I guess there is no way around it,” Blythe said. Pam was fighting the urge to ask questions. Did she need to know anything about this woman? What purpose would it serve?
“How’d you find out about the apartment?” Blythe asked.
“The landlord sent a renewal form for the lease to Jack’s former office,” Pam answered.
“Were you surprised? I mean, did you have any idea?” Blythe was pumping Pam for information and that was okay.
“I was completely surprised by the apartment, but I knew Jack had another life. I didn’t know about you,” Pam admitted.
“No, I guess you wouldn’t have known about me. You are so calm, I guess I’m a little taken aback by it,” Blythe said.
“I’ve had surprises since the day he died, Blythe. It’s old hat now,” Pam said. “Not that it hasn’t hurt me beyond anything I could have imagined.”
“Well, I don’t want to add to it. My life is ruined because of Jack, but somehow I have to keep going. All I know is what you saw in that apartment. That’s Jack’s doing. I have a bachelor’s degree in education from Stony Brook. I had a teaching job in Smithtown but I met Jack in July before school started. That was it for me. I have spent the last seventeen years bartending and waiting for Jack to come into the bar. That was my life. All the junk you saw hanging from the Peg-Boards? It was Jack’s legacy to me. At least I can support myself now,” Blythe said. Pam remembered the pathetic Maryanne who had asked for money. Why didn’t Blythe?
“Where do you live?” Pam asked, sure that it wasn’t that awful apartment.
“Near Jack’s other place, near Madison. Another dump, but not quite as bad as the one you saw. I bartend at the same place where I met Jack. I have to do this other work to supplement my income,” Blythe said, like it was commonplace to take money for whipping people.
Pam was silent. Blythe was blaming Jack for ruining her life. She had a college degree, and before she was even able to start a job utilizing it, she was sucked in by Jack. What was it about these women that allowed someone like Jack to overpower them? He was able to make rational, thinking people let down their guard and adopt behaviors that previously they wouldn’t have even considered. This woman made a choice to waste her life waiting for Jack. She may have thought there would be something in it for her—he was obviously wealthy. Or he may have lied to her and told her a future together was a possibility. Something. It made Pam sick. Pam wanted to ask her why she let it happen but she knew that might make her defensive. Blythe didn’t seem to have anything to lose by going public. Look everyone! Look at what the great Jack Smith did to me! Pam didn’t want to provoke her, realizing there was an element of fear. She was still protecting Jack.
“I’m sorry, Blythe. I’ll do what I can to transfer the apartment into your name. I hope that will help,” she said, eager to end the conversation.
“Yes, well thank you. Sorry I frightened you when I came into the apartment today,” Blythe said.
“That’s okay. Good-bye,” Pam said, and hung up. Irrationally, she washed her hands, scrubbing to remove anything that might have come through the phone. Relieved that she didn’t encourage Blythe to take a walk down memory lane, Pam was still uneasy about her encounter with her. Who else was going to crawl out from under the woodwork? The morning dream about Jack popped into her head and made her gorge rise. It was clearly wishful thinking. I love you so much. She marched into her bedroom and began tearing her bed apart. Even the illusion of him being in her bed was disgusting. Ga
sping, the thought came to her, no wonder I have AIDS. As she stuffed the tainted sheets in the washing machine, she was overcome with the longing to have peace. Was it even possible after all that had transpired?
She made up the bed in fresh sheets, pulling them tightly and smoothing the wrinkles out. Maybe she would resume her quest for perfection. Now that Jack was gone, it might actually be possible.
36
Christmas arrived in Babylon with no fanfare. Pam didn’t hire the handyman to hang lights outside of the house on Black Friday as she had in years past. Marie and Jack didn’t pop popcorn in the fireplace, with the resulting shriek of the smoke alarm and burnt kernels flying all over the den. Lisa and Brent came home, but it was melancholy; Pam hadn’t bothered with a real tree or decorations. They made due with a small fake one, already decorated, that she bought at the CVS. No one talked about AIDS, or Jack’s behavior, or bad parenting. They overate, played cards until dawn, laughed, drank too much wine. It was probably the first adult Christmas they’d had. Lisa even bought gifts for the others, a first. Jeff Babcock joined them a few evenings, and Dave came on Christmas Eve with the complete Seven Fishes dinner.
They didn’t see Nelda or Bernice or Marie. Susan and Sharon drove into the city at separate times with their families to see their mother and Marie, but no invitation had been extended from the beach. Pam wasn’t up to entertaining.
Sandra Benson got a huge tree and invited Tom and his father and Gwen; her sister, Sylvia, and brother-in-law; and anyone else who wanted to come for dinner. Virginia, Faith, and Emma were invited but declined; they really did have other things to do. Tom said the idea that they’d even responded to something his father was invited to was a positive sign.
Nelda cooked dinner for the Columbus Avenue crowd, set the table in the dining room, and used all the heavy silver and beautiful china. Bernice was thrilled. Marie and Steve were impressed, too.
On New Year’s Eve, Jeff Babcock brought his new friend to meet Pam. Brent’s girlfriend came down from White Plains to meet the family, and Lisa had several old friends in. Dave came by with the food again; this time a lavish buffet.
Pam had the fire lit every night. They sat by the window and looked out over the ocean, reminiscing about old times but keeping it light and pleasant. There was an unspoken rule that nothing sad would be talked about. The presence of the guests helped the conversations stay benign. Pam almost felt like it was old times, but something inevitably would happen to remind her otherwise. She’d get a call from her mother complaining about Marie, or have to take a call from the management company that was handling Jack’s Madison Avenue apartment. That everything was back to normal was just an illusion. She started counting the days, and then the minutes, until her beloved children went back to their own lives and she could exhale.
On January 2, she got up at daybreak. Taking a cup of coffee into the den, she gazed out the window as the sun began to peek over the horizon. Once the kids got off on their respective flights in the afternoon, she could start examining what needed to be done to make her life work again. The old way obviously had to be abandoned. What she was going through was not so different from the process many other women her age faced. Husbands died, kids grew up and left home. Women without careers had a chance at a second life. That her husband was a liar didn’t change anything. It didn’t reflect on her; they weren’t her secrets or sins to be deal with. If she allowed it, she could let it ruin what was left of her life. Her pride was almost nonexistent. For a few weeks that fall, she’d stooped to an all-time low, purposely intimidating the clerks at Organic Bonanza who’d been rude and Andy’s new girlfriend, whom she’d met at the gym. But it was the rubber band effect, going from one extreme to another. Fortunately, she’d come to her senses. She ran into Linda Potts and grabbed her, apologizing and admitting it was a horrible lie; she had nothing to excuse herself but bad behavior and embarrassment. Linda hugged her and thanked her, but said it wasn’t necessary; she had dumped Andy, deciding he wasn’t to be trusted after all.
“With my history,” Linda said, “any man who would betray a confidence like that isn’t worth the time of day.”
Everything Pam had read about grief, especially the grief of a widow, advised against making any life-changing decisions until a year had passed. Pam played with the idea of spending the winter in the city but once Marie took up residence on Columbus Avenue, she nixed that idea completely. Now, the idea drifted through her mind to leave Long Island, to try something new, far, far away from New York City. It was just a tiny thought, but she hoped to dwell on it and see if it went anywhere. She had no earthly idea what she would do with her time besides primping and working out.
37
Do you, Ashton Hageman, take Theodore Broderick to be thy lawfully wedded husband? In joy and in sorrow? In plenty and in want? To have and to hold? Until death do you part?
Ashton slipped the silver band onto Ted’s left ring finger, and then said, “I do!”
They grabbed hands and started laughing, and with the blessing of Father Allen, turned to the audience and the entire congregation yelled, “Hurray!”
The next six hours went by in a blur. Ash remembered Jack and Pam’s wedding, how Jack said later that they didn’t even know what the menu was they were so busy. Ashton made sure he stayed by Ted, to support him, to show him that he was really there with him. Ted put a tremendous amount of effort into planning each detail of the ceremony and reception. His mother was in her glory, making sure every last promise the caterer had made was carried out. Later, they were informed that it was a fabulous wedding!
They went to France for their honeymoon, taking hiking trips through the most picturesque countryside Ashton could’ve imagined. When they were planning the trip, he thought they’d go to Fire Island, but Ted wanted to take him out of the country. Knowing Ashton had rarely left Manhattan, Ted was hopeful he would love it so much that he’d want to keep going. He was correct.
Theirs was a whirlwind romance, but they were so meant for each other. All of their friends exclaimed, “We should have figured out a way to get you two to meet years ago!” But Ashton knew that was ludicrous. The timing for the two of them was perfect. Almost a year ago, Jack was still alive. Ashton never would have gotten married if Jack hadn’t died.
New Yorkers commented that it was the worst winter they’d seen in many years. Over ninety inches of snow fell between January and the middle of March. But by April Fool’s Day, the snow was gone and the weather was fabulous. Pam was in the middle of a big garden cleanup on a Saturday in mid April, Dave helping her, when the phone rang. She ran into the house through the veranda and seeing it was Nelda, answered it right away.
“We called the squad the morning. They took her to Columbia. I just thought you should know,” Nelda said. Marie had been going downhill steadily since Christmas, so Pam shouldn’t have been surprised. But she was. She felt sick to her stomach. Dave came in to see if everything was okay and she covered the receiver with hand, mouthing Marie. He mouthed back Oh God.
“Do you want me to come?” Pam asked.
“Not yet. Steve just called and they are admitting her to the ICU. She’s in respiratory distress, so they have to put the breathing tube in. The baby is okay so far.” And then Nelda did something rarely seen or heard of: she broke down and started to cry. “It’s the worst thing I thought I would ever see,” she said. “My baby daughter.”
Pam felt terrible for her mother. She’d gone to see her sister at least once a week, but after the last visit on Easter, she didn’t go back. Marie didn’t know who Pam was, and she looked so terrible, Pam thought they should admit her then. Steve and Nelda wanted her to stay home because the longer they could keep her out of the hospital, away from MERSA and other horrible bugs, the longer they might maintain her pregnancy, and the baby had become an icon for them. It was no longer about Marie, who for all intents and purposes was dying, but it was for the baby, who miraculously was doing well.
Marie was skin and bones. A nurse came in every eight hours to make sure her intravenous fluids were running and to mix the liquid meals she was getting. She had a feeding tube that went directly into her stomach and Nelda had become adept at hanging the bags of liquid nourishment that would keep her alive a little longer. The nurses marveled that Marie’s skin was so sound on her back; it was due to Nelda’s constant vigilance in keeping her daughter clean and dry and turning her from side to side hourly or more often. She wasn’t going to get a bedsore on Nelda’s watch.
Every night when Steve came in from work, they got Marie out of bed, but not just up to sit in a chair. He picked her up like a baby and sat with her in his lap in Bernice’s old rocking chair, rocking her until it was time for him to go back home and get some sleep. Marie had taken to sucking on her thumb again like she did when she was two years old, and although she had almost sucked her nail off, they let her do it because it seemed to offer some relief for her suffering. They had no way of knowing if she was in horrible pain or not, except for occasional screaming. She would manage to sit up in bed, as weak and frail as she had become, and just start screaming. No other sound was heard from her after the end of March.
The years of anorexia and bulimia had taken their toll on her teeth; her gums had receded so far back that it wasn’t unusual for Nelda to find a tooth on her pillow. Her hair was almost completely gone. She looked like a toothless, bald, little old man. That Friday for some reason, Steve decided he had to stay with her through the night. He came in and puttered around her room, straightening what Nelda had already straightened. He fussed with the covers on the bed and pretended like he knew what he was doing with the IV lines, and then when he’d done enough, he gave up and plunked down at the edge of the bed and bent over to hold her. He started to cry. She often opened her eyes, usually staring vacantly, but when Steve was there that night, she had a knowing look about her. They sensed she knew that he was devastated and it might bring her some peace to be embraced by him.
Prayers for the Dying: Pam of Babylon Book #4 Page 21