Jack had said, looking at her, “I never want to forget nights like this.” It was as close to a confession of love that she got from him for months. When he said it, icy prickles shot down her spine. She wanted to ask what made him say it, what was going on, but she bit her tongue. In her usual way, she thought, Take this at face value. He is saying that he loves you. Everything is okay.
But of course, it wasn’t. He didn’t try to make love to her later, and when he left for Manhattan early the next morning, she didn’t wake up and he didn’t wake her. The alarm went off at seven and she sat up with a start, immediately looking at his empty side of the bed and feeling an overwhelming sadness. She had no idea that it would be the last time he would be by her side, that she would never see him again.
She remembered to ask Sandra why she thought Jack had had a premonition that he would die. Sandra said that it wasn’t anything specific, just that he kept making references to not having regrets, to doing things you wanted to do because it was all over so soon.
Pam wondered if that was one of the reasons he had been unfaithful. He didn’t want to regret not doing it. But that didn’t make any sense. She supposed she would never really know what he was thinking. She would just chalk it up to what Sandra said—bad judgment. She said they were getting bored with it, and Sandra suspected that he was thinking of ending it.
When she pulled up to the house, the lights were on, and it shown like a jewel in the dusk. Other cars were blocking the garage, so she parked in the driveway. She could hear the waves hitting the beach when she got out of the car. She loved this house, the area. Her love for it transcended her pain and grief. It was a dichotomy she couldn’t explain—how the tragic death of her husband could be made tolerable by the love she had for her life. It was not something she would share with another.
Tonight she would have to socialize. Her sisters—Marie and Sharon and now Susan, having just arrived from Connecticut. The flurry of activity in the house bothered her. Everyone was talking all at once; there was nothing solemn, no respect for the dead. An unfinished board game out on the kitchen table, so dinner would be served in the dining room. Pam couldn’t remember the last time they used it. She tried to squelch her concern about the Battenberg tablecloth. Now was not the time to be miserly. She put herself in neutral and allowed everyone else to make the decisions.
Earlier in the day, Sandra had helped her regain some feeling. Instead of the on again–off again emotional roller coaster she had been on, she was able to express her grief and stay in that mode for several hours. When Sandra left the second time, they had both cried for the man whom they had loved and who loved them. Now, back in her house, Pam was thinking a little numbness would be helpful. She wasn’t in sync with the jovial atmosphere in the house, yet didn’t want to be the one to stop it. And she was getting a headache.
She put her handbag down and went into the kitchen. Anne was tossing a salad and Nelda was there, slicing corned beef on a platter. She looked at her daughter with concern.
“Dear, how are you holding up?” Nelda asked. Fortunately, Lisa didn’t ask how her day in the city went.
“I’m okay Mother, just tired I guess.” She walked over to her and kissed her on the cheek. “I think I’ll go right to bed after dinner if you think you can get along without me.”
“Pam, if you want to eat alone, I’ll fix you a tray and you can take it to your room.” Anne said, nodding toward the den. “Things got a little out of hand today. It’s all the children, I think.”
“I would love to eat in my room, but I doubt if I can get away with it.” She took a loaf of rye bread and a platter of sliced vegetables and walked toward the dining room. “I wish there was a little more recognition that someone in this house has died,” she said loudly, surprising even her. If the parents couldn’t control their children, she would make sure they knew she didn’t approve. She heard shushing sounds, and the TV was turned off. The sisters came out of the den.
“Pam, we didn’t hear you come in. I am so sorry about the noise. Forgive me?” Susan leaned over and gave her sister a peak on the cheek.
“Hi, Suz,” Pam said, acknowledging her sister. “How was your trip?”
They exchanged pleasantries, avoiding the obvious, until Susan said, “I’m so sorry about Jack! I just can’t believe it.” Then Susan hugged Pam.
Pam gave up. She succumbed to Susan’s hug, to her outpouring of sympathy. In front of her family for the first time, she began to cry. She pulled out a chair from the table in her formal dining room, moving the plate aside so she could put her head down and have a good cry.
It provoked silence. The men turned away and the children gathered closer, wanting to see their Aunt Pam for themselves. Too young to understand, they wondered what it meant when someone you loved had died. The smallest child Ava, Sharon’s youngest, put her arms around Pam’s waist. The touching act of kindness brought a smile to Pam’s face. She lifted the child up on her lap. Nelda came in then and told everyone to sit down.
Sixteen people squeezed in around Pam’s table meant for twelve, but it was okay. They made corned-beef sandwiches and had potato salad, coleslaw, beet salad, and chocolate cake, thanks to Marie who went on a baking binge that day.
“Can we talk later?” Marie whispered to her.
“Sure, but can it wait? I’m beat.” Pam could only imagine what Marie had to say. She needed to be well rested for whatever argument they might have.
“Tomorrow then.” Marie said. “I love you, Pam.”
That evening after dinner, everyone went his or her separate ways. Pam’s sisters and their families, except for Marie, went to the bed-and-breakfast with Bill and Anne. Nelda and Bernice stayed at the house. Lisa and Brent got into bed with their mother and watched TV while she dozed, until the news came on at 11:00 p.m. They kissed her good-night and went to their own rooms.
Pam stood in the window, looking at the surf as it hit the beach, the moonlight exaggerating the foam on the white caps, the stars brilliant in the inky black sky. Tomorrow will be a day to be gotten through, she thought, as she could feel it coming. If possible, she would spend much of the day in her room, alone or with her children. Only home for a day, they were already starting to show the strain of too much company. Finally, she fell asleep after midnight.
11
The next morning, Pam didn’t get up until nine. She rarely slept that late, but it felt okay. No one had disturbed her; the family was allowing her some privacy. She did her usual morning routine, dressing in a soft velour running suit, probably too warm for later in the day, but she needed the comfort now. Tiptoeing out into the hallway, she could hear distant voices and smell the aroma of coffee. There was no one in the kitchen. Through the french doors leading to the veranda, she could see the source of the voices; Nelda and Bernice were sitting and talking together, with the sun filtered by the vaporous netting that surrounded the seating area. She quietly poured herself a cup of coffee and sat at the counter. Looking out over the sea, her mind went blank for the moment. If she could have this measure of peace for the remainder of the day, she would be thrilled. The coffee was rich and hot. She got up to find something to eat with it and was not disappointed. It looked like more food deliveries had been made that day, with three bakery boxes stacked on the counter. The first one she opened contained a deadly looking cheese danish. Oh, what the hell, she thought. She took the biggest one and placed it on a plate. Marie walked in then.
“Oh no, not more fattening stuff! Doesn’t anyone believe in fruit trays anymore?” Marie exclaimed. Pam laughed out loud.
“You can afford it,” she said. Taking a big bite, she moaned. “It is gooood!” Marie opened the other two boxes; the second held at least three-dozen fresh bagels, and the third a quiche. She took the quiche out and got out a knife, cutting a huge piece of it for her breakfast. Popping it into the microwave, she poured herself a cup of coffee.
“Those old ladies wake you up?” she asked, shaking her hea
d toward the veranda. Pam shook her head no with a mouthful of danish. “They did me,” Marie said. “Is Mom moving in?”
“Marie!” Pam laughed. “What is going on? Relax!”
“I guess I have had enough. I can’t imagine what it is like for you. I’m tempted to go back to Hell’s Kitchen later and come back in the morning.”
“You could do that. We can manage here just fine. The only problem would be braving the traffic in the morning. Sure you want to do that?” Pam felt a little conflicted about Marie not being there, needing her to run interference, but was also glad for the downtime in her own house.
“If you needed me, I would never forgive myself for not being here,” Marie said. She took her cup of coffee and her giant piece of quiche and sat across from her big sister. She took a bite of the quiche. They sat in peace, not talking for few minutes, and then something came over Marie, and she had to purge herself, had to be honest with Pam. The wedge between them all weekend had been the secret Marie was keeping from her. She had to tell her but needed to be careful not to divulge what she had read into it and just stick to the facts.
“Pam, I have to tell you something. It is bugging the crap out of me.”
Pam looked at her, curious. “Okay, go ahead,” she said.
Hesitating, but needing to get it off her chest, Marie said, “I saw Jack with Sandra Benson on Saturday morning.” She looked at Pam.
“And?” Pam asked.
“And…I saw them is all. If this hadn’t all happened, I don’t know that I would have ever told you. But since…well, everything, I needed to let you know, to be honest with you.”
Pam took a sip of coffee. She wondered if there wasn’t an ulterior motive here.
“I’m not sure what I am supposed to say. It’s over, so don’t worry about it anymore.” Pam didn’t know where this was going, but she wanted to give Marie a chance to express herself. She wanted her to hurry though, to get it over with before her children or their mother came into the room.
“I’m not worried about it, Pam. It was bothering me because I saw them together; I knew what they looked like together. You seem to find something disarming about Sandra Benson, and I think she is a snake.” Marie was going where she didn’t want to go, but it was too late.
“This is really about Sandra, then. Am I correct?” Pam fought the urge to get up and refill her coffee cup. She knew that would appear to be an aggressive move. The last thing she needed was to make Marie feel like she was being challenged. She knew what her sister was getting at, but wanted to let her have the last word. Thinking about what Sandra and Jack ‘looked like together’ was not something Pam was willing to waste a second at. It could only lead to devastation.
“Are you more concerned about my befriending her or what she meant to Jack?” Pam knew that if she weren’t careful, she would get swept up into a passionate confrontation with her sister. It had been building over the past three days, and she recognized it, yet continued to ignore it.
“Are you befriending her? Did you go into the city to see her? Or did you go to the apartment?” Marie’s voice was starting to shake.
“Both. I think it is understandable that I wanted to talk to the woman who was in love with my husband by myself.” She stood up. “Jack was my husband. It was my marriage. It is my business. If that seems harsh, so be it. This is not exactly the easiest situation to be in.” She turned her back for a minute to refill her cup. When she turned around, Marie was obviously fighting back tears. Pam was tired of her interloping. She would do what she wanted as far as Sandra Benson was concerned. Marie could go back to the city if need be. “Look, Marie, you might as well accept the fact that Sandra will be here tomorrow. Even if I had never found out about the two of them, she would still be here because she worked with him. Now, what I would be interested in knowing is if I hadn’t found any of this out, would you have been able to keep your secret? Or would you have found it irresistible to hurt me?” Pam knew she was testing her sister, but she wanted it out there. What was this all about? She began to think that perhaps this idyllic relationship Marie had with Pam’s family was really a smoke screen. Could Marie have been jealous of her all along?
Marie sat at the table open mouthed. She was jealous of her sister. She wanted to react, to lash out, but was able to control herself for the sake of the day, her mother and Bernice just outside, the kids in their rooms and the other family members at the beach, probably preparing to barge in any moment for lunch. She decided not to take the defense.
“I guess we had to have this conversation. It was inevitable. I am not going to start the ‘I did this for you’ conversation. Our relationship is what it is. I hardly know what to do now.” She sat there spent, regretful of having brought up the subject of Sandra fucking Benson. It was amazing what Jack stooped to for a piece of ass.
“Let’s just get through the next two days, okay? Life will return to normal on Wednesday. You’ll go back to work, the kids will go back to their summery pursuits, Mom will hopefully go home and Bernice back to Columbus Avenue. Right now, I need things to stay peaceful for just another day. I can get through the funeral if everyone will just stay calm and not expect too much. Can we do that?” She looked directly at Marie.
Marie nodded yes. At that moment, Pam had the realization that something deeper was going on, something that she didn’t have the strength to deal with yet, but that it would have to be dealt with after the funeral, after they had gotten back to normal. Suddenly, she had an idea. It would mean throwing her original conviction of keeping to herself that day to the wind.
“Let’s go shopping, okay? Everyone else is going to the beach. I hate the idea of the beach on a holiday. Let’s wake Lisa up and go to South Shore.” Pam started scurrying around as she always did when she was going about her day. Marie tried to pull it together, tried to move past the last half hour. She would go through the motions instead of being so self-seeking, so selfish, and let her sister have her way. That was the adult thing to do.
12
Tuesday morning finally arrived. It was overcast, but dry. Pam stood in her black silk suit wanting to fade into the wall, knowing she was about to be on display for the hundreds of people who would come from all over, from Massachusetts to Washington, D.C., to pay their respects to Jack. Poor Jack, he would have loved this! He loved people. She could hear him now, For Christ’s sake, where the hell were all these people when I needed a loan? The focus had not been on Jack these last three days, but on his behavior, his final deed. Of course, no one knew about it but Marie and Pam. Pam believed the kids thought their father was a sainted knight who just had a lapse in stamina.
She had not heard from Sandra Benson and didn’t attempt to contact her. She would be there that morning, or not. Pam would stay back and let Sandra make the decision about how much involvement she wanted in the festivities. If she wanted to be up front with the family, she would be. If she wanted to stay back out of sight, that was okay, too. Pam wouldn’t look for the reactions of Jack’s colleagues. Surely, they knew of the liaison between Jack and Sandra and would be watching for any interaction between the wife and the mistress.
Marie, on the other hand, was on edge and would be looking for the slightest reaction. She had tossed and turned in her bed until just after almost dawn and trying to get up now was difficult, her eyelids were gritty sandpaper. She had a headache, too. She was worried the slightest provocation would make her lose control.. For the kids’ sake, especially Lisa’s, she had to maintain calm.
She dragged herself to the closet. She was wearing pants and a shirt. It was supposed to go up to eighty degrees; no way was she layering a suit. She put lipstick on and brushed her hair straight back, securing it with a barrette. This was the way Jack liked her hair. “No nonsense,” he called it. “You are my no-nonsense girl, and Pam is my high-maintenance girl,” he would say. “Don’t wear makeup,” he’d tell her. “I like seeing how clear your skin is. You don’t have one blemish!” Pam would
say, “She’s a teenager, too! It’s because she knows how to take care of herself!” She walked to the bed and sat on the side of it, shoulders slumped, and put her head in her hands. Oh Jack, what I am going to do now?
By eight everyone was up and dressed. They were eating the last of the gifted food, fruit salad, homemade muffins, and bakery sweet rolls. Pam hadn’t come out of her room yet, so Brent went to see if she was up and ready. Knocking, he whispered to the crack in the door, “Mom, you up?” She opened the door, remembering her purse and then turning to get it. He followed her in, closing the door behind him.
“Mom, Aunt Marie is being really strange. I’m not sure how to handle her.” Pam looked over at him, at her grown son, and saw for the first time that he was a man. Overnight, he’d changed.
“Give her some time, okay, Son? She is sad, too. Dad was her one and only for a long, long time. Not sure what she’s going to do.” She turned around and looked at him. “Is she bothering you now?”
“Sort of. She came into my room last night and got into my bed. She was crying and mumbling something. Gran came and got her and took her back to bed.” Looking down at his petite mother, he noticed the fine lines around her eyes and mouth for the first time and wondered when his parents had gotten old.
“Okay, well lock your door tonight,” Pam said, not really thinking her son was in any danger. “She’ll be going back to the city soon and then we won’t have to worry. Let’s just get through today. I feel like that is all I keep asking people—let’s get through today. What will my excuse be tomorrow?”
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