Pam of Babylon

by Suzanne Jenkins

  “I don’t feel good,” she announced before dinner. “I want to go home.” Pam rushed to her, patting her and hugging her, while Jack made a display of concern.

  “Here, sit down, Marie, you are probably dehydrated.” Pam reached for a pitcher of water.

  “No, I really want to go home.” This was a first. Pam was really concerned and began to get suspicious.

  “Did something happen at the park?” Pam looked right at Jack. Jack lied through his teeth, he was so smooth.

  “Not that I know of. What’s wrong, Marie?” Marie would wonder for years after that Pam didn’t recognize the insincerity in Jack’s voice. He cared less whether she was okay or not. The sad fact was she couldn’t answer him. After that day, she often thought that if she had made a stand, insisting that they take her home or that her parents came to get her, that her life would have been vastly different. Jack had his hand on her arm and was applying pressure, not squeezing it, but just enough weight so she would know to keep her mouth shut. She felt a tear behind her eye but controlled it. If she started crying now, it would all come spilling out—the spying, seeing them making love, Jack fondling her. All hell would break loose. Instead, she clammed up and stayed with them after all. Later that night, Jack made love to his wife, thinking about Marie, and Marie watched them through the keyhole. Eventually, he would come to her bed at night, and she allowed it, initiated it, and encouraged it, night after night, year after year, losing herself in the process.

  Cheese and crackers finished, Marie opened the drawer in her night table and pulled out a Milky Way. She ate the chocolate off the top and then nibbled the candy bar, savoring it until the last bite. It was wonderful. There were so few pleasures in life, so few delights.

  27

  The next morning, after spending a comfortable evening at home, which included reading through a compelling mystery and having a glass of wine on her veranda before bed, Pam woke up refreshed and rested. She was excited about spending the day in the city. As she dressed, it occurred to her that she should pack a bag and spend a few days. She could have lunch with Sandra, dinner with Marie and Bernice, go to the library, the museums, she could be a real tourist. That settled it.

  Bags packed, she had enough clothing, underwear, and accessories for a month in Paris. She was as happy as she could remember being in a long while.

  Looking around her house to make sure everything was in place before she left for her overnighter, she took one last look at the beach. It would be there when she got home the next day. She poured herself a cup of coffee in her travel mug and picked up her purse. Coming back to drag her bags out and lock up, she glanced at Jack’s Lexus in the garage as she closed the trunk of her car. It dawned on her that for the years she and Jack lived apart during the week, she never went into the city to see him with the excitement she felt now. That made her sad. She wondered if it had bothered him that she never visited.

  Getting into the car, she opened the sunroof and turned the radio on. She felt like listening to familiar music from her youth. The idea that her comfortable little life, and that is what it seemed to her now, a little life, would soon be coming to an end, grew as she got closer to the city. Sandra would make it impossible for her to “stick her head in the sand” anymore. Pam hated that phrase. Marie used it all the time. “Get your head out of the sand, Pam,” she would say. Jack would come to her defense. “You’re fine, Pam. Shut up, Marie.” There was some truth to it, however hated it was. Pam had her head in the sand. Her husband had an affair right under her nose. He had changed his will without telling her. The information about Harold not being his father was never shared with her. She wondered what else she would discover before it was over.

  As she drove, she remembered what living in the city had been like. As a child growing up in Brooklyn, getting to the city was a goal to be reached. No one wanted to stay in Brooklyn in her crowd. And then she met Jack. He was from a wealthy family who lived right by the park in a mansion. She found she could fit in if she just looked good, kept her mouth shut, and didn’t share her opinions.

  By the time she and Jack got married, she no longer had any opinions. They would live in the city because that was always what he had done. He went to school and started his successful business there. But secretly, she hated it. She hated the crowds, the expectations, the playacting of the day-trippers, the women in their look-a-like suits and briefcases, the men trying to look like Ralph Lauren models—it was all too much. All she really wanted to do was quit her job and start a family.

  Not working brought with it a whole package of unwanted activities. She was expected to join the Junior League, volunteer for charity events, and raise money for only God knew what needy proposition. Having Bernice for a mother-in-law would further lower Pam’s self-confidence. Nothing she did was ever correct or enough. The first years of her marriage were spent trying in vain to please her. Bernice was a perfectionist of the obsessive-compulsive variety. She employed a staff of cleaning ladies who were continuously cleaning and polishing her huge, empty house. When they were finished there, she sent them to her sons’ homes. Pam would have to spend the morning hiding anything she didn’t want thrown away or touched while an army of people she didn’t want scrubbed through her apartment. The humiliation and intrusion just had to be dealt with because she was also expected to entertain almost continuously. At least having a clean house was one less thing she had to worry about.

  Pam stopped taking birth control pills the day Jack finished his master’s thesis. She wanted a baby so badly. Jack did his best to impregnate her, coming home midday to have sex, never passing up a chance for lovemaking. “We were like a couple of rabbits,” he once said, teasing her.

  Jack really loved Pam. She was completely unlike his mother, who was a strong, foreboding woman with high, uncompromising expectations for her sons. He loved his mother, too, though. Jack was a success at whatever he attempted. His mother loved him conditionally he thought, although she denied it. Her relationship with Jack was different than that of Bill’s. Bill was more his father’s son. He followed Harold into the family business, taking over when Harold retired, although he still made armchair decisions, something Jack never would had tolerated.

  Jack tried to protect Pam. Bernice was informed as soon as he knew that Pam was the woman he wanted to spend his life with that she better embrace her and respect her. So although it was difficult, Bernice was gentle with Pam, or perhaps gentler than she was with most. Bernice let Pam know when something was inappropriate or improper. She critiqued her cooking, took her shopping for clothes and insisted that she dress a certain way, made suggestions for decorating their apartment, and then put them into play. Jack told her that if she really hated what Bernice was doing, he would put a stop to it. But he assured Pam that having his mother take over the unimportant things in their life would allow her to spend the time doing what she really loved—working out, reading, trying to get pregnant. He said that with his hand on her breast.

  Jack got Pam a membership to the expensive New York Athletic Club right after they got married. While she was there, she was her own person. Bernice didn’t exist; infertility wasn’t an issue. Belonging to the club made living in the city tolerable. Jack took pride in his wife’s fit physique and attractive face. Anything she wanted for herself, he made sure she got. Facials, manicure, and spa treatments filled her week.

  When she finally got pregnant with Brent, Bernice took over. She doted on Pam, sending the cook over to prepare their meals, making sure she ate properly. She wasn’t allowed to walk anywhere; their driver became her personal chauffeur. She was showered with gifts, as parties and showers were given in her honor until there was no room left for the baby. Whatever torture Bernice had previously bestowed on her daughter-in-law was forgiven immediately. And Bernice actually began to like Pam as far as she was able.

  As soon as she got settled into Jack’s apartment, she would call Bernice and see how she was doing. What a hell of year
she had had. Pam felt genuine love and respect for Bernice. She hoped they would continue to be friends even though Jack was gone. Having heard of families in which all the bonds were broken after a death made Pam determined to make sure it never happened to her family. Her kids needed both grandmothers. Traffic was backed up on the parkway right before she got into the city, so the hour trip became two hours. Pam was okay with the delay. She sang along with her favorite old songs, relaxing from the hectic drive into town. There wasn’t much that could get Pam down that day, least of all crappy city traffic.

  Sandra was waiting nervously for Pam’s arrival. She got ready that morning, dressing with care, fixing her hair and makeup. She needed confidence for this. She was going to simply tell Pam the truth, without apology. There was nothing left to apologize for, nothing to rationalize. She was sorry everything had happened, but couldn’t take it back. Her actions had been brutal and selfish, but they were finished. Jack was dead. Now, Pam could acknowledge this pregnancy or not. It was entirely up to her. But Sandra fully intended on telling Pam she needed her. She was the last link to Jack. Pam had said as much about her. The baby only strengthened that link.

  She made herself tea and toast, sitting in the window and gazing out at the tree. The birds she fed throughout the winter were bringing their babies back to the feeder. Sandra felt as though they wanted her to see their children. She would sit on her patio at dusk and watch silently as the mothers and their little birds came for dinner. It emphasized the life she was making for herself here; the birds depended on her for food, and she was diligent about providing it. This task was just a little thing, but one of several seemingly unrelated activities that helped define who she was—city dweller, reader, worker, bird caretaker, girlfriend, and soon, mother. She avoided using any negatives—mistress, betrayer, liar. Others would provide those terms. She wondered what was keeping Pam and considered calling the apartment, but decided that God’s timing would be perfect, as trite as it sounded. So far, it had been right on target.

  Pam pulled into the parking garage on Madison Avenue. She hauled her heavy suitcase out of the trunk, pulling the handle up so all she had to do was pull it along behind her. Whoever had invented the rolling suitcase was a genius. She did her best to keep it rolling smoothly to the elevator. The fifteen floors up went quickly. She was getting ahead of herself, thinking of buying some groceries and staying more than a day. She decided to allow herself the freedom to leave when she had had enough. She’d order a few things to be delivered, coffee in particular if Jack didn’t have any. There were plenty of places to shop in the neighborhood.

  She decided to unpack, rather than rushing out. She needed the few minutes of peaceful organization to gather her thoughts. She hadn’t allowed herself to fanaticize about what Sandra wanted to talk to her about. It probably involved the business. She had already come to terms with it. As long as she had enough money to live and support herself and the children, she really didn’t care about it. It was the idea that pissed her off—the idea that Jack could think so little of her and she didn’t realize it.

  She spent the next ten or fifteen minutes putting her clothes away and organizing her beauty products in the bathroom, throwing the old stuff away. She knew she was stalling. Going into the living room, she picked up the phone and keyed in Sandra’s number. She answered on the first ring. They made plans for Pam to go to her apartment. Then, if they felt like it, they could go to lunch later. Sandra added to herself, If they could eat after what would be revealed.

  Pam left Jack’s apartment at noon. She got a cab without a problem and was at Sandra’s in fifteen minutes. Sandra was waiting for Pam at the door of the building so she wouldn’t have to buzz. When the cab stopped, Sandra walked out and met Pam on the sidewalk. They embraced like old friends. Conversation was easy between the two of them, like mother and daughter. Pam asked how the week was going at work, and Sandra told her about Peter and how he wouldn’t come out of his office the day of the will reading. They walked down the hall together to the Sandra’s door. Pam walked through first and was impressed by the apartment.

  “Oh my goodness! It’s so bright! I love what you have done with it.” She looked at Sandra, smiling. “You have a real knack, my dear!” They went to the small table and sat down, continuing to chat. Sandra put the kettle on. She remembered Pam liked coffee, getting some instant crystals from Zabar’s. She set the kettle on to boil, took the mugs out of the cupboard, and gathered up the cream and sugar. She was starting to get nervous, wondering when was she going to do it. She imagined she would just speak it out the moment Pam walked through the door. But she hadn’t counted on the immediate connection they would have. They hadn’t seen each other in a week. She had missed her. The reading of the will had taken place, and if that didn’t alienate Pam, this next revelation may.

  She decided she had to preface her news with a little speech. She had to build up to it. Pam needed some preparation. Sandra was tempted to let Pam ask what the meeting was about. Her nerves led to fright. What if I lose it? Carrying the tray into the dining room, she decided to just say it.

  “Thank you for coming all the way into the city today, Pam. I know this isn’t your favorite place in the world!” She put the tray down and started pouring.

  “I brought an overnight bag! When you called, it pulled me up out of such a state of self-pity. Thank you!” Pam reached over and hugged her. She continued to praise Sandra for her ability to inspire Pam that afternoon. Sandra set the teapot on the table. She sat back down with her head hanging.

  “Please don’t, Pam. Please don’t.” She shook her head back and forth. Pam reached out for her, concerned.

  “What’s wrong, dear? What did I do?” Pam was leaning forward, so worried that she’d hurt poor Sandra in some way.

  “I’m pregnant.” There, it was out. “I took a test, and it was positive. I’m very early.” Pam was frowning; the color had drained from her face.

  “I don’t understand. I mean, I hear what you just said, but I thought you said he was going to break up with you? Did you plan this?” Her voice was shaking, almost uncontrollably.

  “I’m sure he would have broken up with me eventually. It was not planned. Pam, I’m sorry I hurt you! But, please, can I just say something and then you can let me have it?”

  “Go ahead. I’m not going to let you have it! I’m just shocked! I mean, Jesus Christ! What next?” Pam had her head in her hands and was looking up at Sandra through her splayed fingers. Pam, always so poised, was suddenly full of doubt and uncertainty. What is happening to me? Am I a complete ass?

  “I am sorry, Pam. I’m sorry I hurt you. Because of me, your husband betrayed you. You didn’t deserve that. But the baby,” she started to weep now, “the baby means so much to me. The minute I realized I was pregnant, I felt like all of this has happened for a reason. I felt like I needed you so desperately to be in my life and the baby’s life. Maybe because you were so kind to me, so forgiving, I’ve stayed on that continuum of us being a family. Now we will be related.” She stopped then. Looking at Pam, seeing the hurt in her eyes was the final straw. She sat down and, with her head hanging down, just let it out. “Everything will be horrible without you. I can’t imagine having this baby and raising it without you.” Pam was speechless. So it wasn’t bad enough that her husband betrayed her with this woman who was young enough to be his daughter, walked around town with her so that Marie, her own sister, knew of the betrayal, but now she would have to explain Jack’s infidelity to her children. The evidence would be in the living, breathing baby for the world to see. Was there anything to privacy anymore? Did the entire world have to know that her marriage was a sham?

  “I ran into Bernice yesterday, and she said I shouldn’t tell you about the baby yet, that you might pressure me into having an abortion. I couldn’t keep it from you, though. I want to build a friendship with you, Pam.” Pam took her hands from her face; she was livid, eyes wide open.

  “My mother-i
n-law knows?” She was struggling to keep her voice low, to stay in control. “Why on earth did you tell my mother-in-law? What earthly purpose would that serve? How do you even know her?” Pam stood up now and was pacing. She was on the fence between caring that Sandra’s feelings didn’t get hurt and wishing her dead, along with her late husband. Sandra began relating the story of Bernice, Big Nick’s, and the trip back to the mansion, when Pam abruptly put her hand up.

  “Stop!” She shouted. “I don’t want to hear another word. Do you have any idea how destructive you are being? This is my life you are fooling with! It’s not enough that you sleep with my husband and don’t protect yourself against a pregnancy, but you tell my mother-in-law?” She gathered up her purse and started walking toward the door. “Good-bye, Sandra. I think it is better if we don’t talk to each other for a while.” She opened the door and walked out of the apartment, slamming it behind her.

  The warmth of the June afternoon enveloped her as she stepped out of the building. It was humid out, and the damp air clung to her bare arms and gave her a chill. It reminded her of having menstrual cramps when she was a girl, and the hot, humid weather would make her feel like she was hot and cold at the same time. Comparing what she had just gone through with cramps brought a smile to her face. She took some deep breaths and started walking toward Broadway. For the second time in their life together, Pam could hear Sandra calling her name. Pam stopped walking and turned around to see Sandra running up the street, tears flying. When she reached Pam, she began begging her for forgiveness.

  “Please, Pam, please give me another chance.” She stood with her head bowed and her hands folded in front of her, in a praying stance. Please, God, let this woman forgive me my sins.

  Pam was already calming down. But she was sincerely tired of the whole Jack-Sandra drama. She wanted to grieve the loss of her husband. She was tired of grieving the charade of her marriage.