Pam looked up at Marie. “I don’t believe you” was all she said.
Marie smirked. “What don’t you believe? The child abuse? The abortion? The rape? The choking? It’s true, I tell you. I have the bills from the clinic, with Jack as the responsible party. You can ask Mom. She was there for me the second time. If we can find my roommate from college, ask her! She saw Jack there, saw me hysterical. And she was there when he brought me home afterward.”
“The bills mean nothing.” Pam was shaking her head no. “He could have been helping you out of a pregnancy from someone else. And I can’t believe you would tell Nelda. She hated Jack! No wonder.”
“It’s true. Why would I lie about
something like that?” Marie was near tears again.
“No!” screamed Pam. “No! I don’t believe it! I choose to believe you are lying, that you would rather make me feel like shit about my husband because he was my husband, not yours. If you slept with him as an adult, that was your choice. You should have run from him. You should have told me then what was going on! Not wait and then when he dies and can’t defend himself, pile all of this crap on me. No!”
Sandra had crept back into the house sometime. Pam and Marie were alone out there in the dark, no candles having been lit, the sun down.
“If my husband molested you when you were a child, I truly apologize for that, for sticking my head in the sand. If you became pregnant by him and had an abortion, that must have been awful for you. But I will not have you sitting in the house that is essentially his bad mouthing him in front of a stranger because you are jealous of her! What are you thinking?”
Marie sat back down and looked up at Pam. “I loved him.” Was all she said.
“Well, it’s not about you, is it? It’s not even about me anymore. Now it is all about the baby—Jack’s baby. Sandra is going to have this child whether we approve or not. It will have the legacy of Jack as its father. Furthermore, Jack left his business to Sandra. That’s right,” responding to the look of astonishment on Marie’s face, “one more piece of news. I hope to God that the last of it was your bomb. I don’t think I can take anymore.”
Whether or not Marie heard a word her sister said remained to be seen, because the next thing she said was, “You are going to support her in this? What the hell happened to your pride?”
Pam laughed and sat down again. Pride? You are kidding, right? What pride? But she only said, “Yes, I am going to support her.” She got up from the chair. “I’m going to go find her to see if we can’t talk about some things I want to talk about. If you don’t want to, get up and go to your room. You aren’t dictating what the conversation is anymore.” She walked back into the house and called for Sandra.
The next morning, a haggard Pam got up out of her bed and went to the bathroom. She reached for the knob on the tub faucet and then pulled back. She was going to go without showering and doing her hair and makeup that day. She’d wash, comb her hair, and put eyeliner and lipstick on, but that was all. She was going to take the day off. To hell with the dinner tonight. She would order pizza if there was anyone left to eat it. She tried to remember the last time she went without makeup and could not. Who am I primping for anyway? All the time she spent taking care of her appearance to please a man who was screwing another woman in this very house. Could it be true? Was he such a monster?
She walked out of her room into the hallway and looked out the doors that lead to the veranda. The sun was just at the horizon. It was going to be a hot, bright day. She suddenly felt like she wanted to sit on the beach. She might even wear a bathing suit and get her legs wet.
Back in the kitchen, she got the coffee pot ready. Something was happening to her. She felt comfortable in her house. The restlessness she had encountered during the past week or so was gone. She laughed at herself, thinking what a fickle woman she was! Hearing the worst news a wife can hear and my response is peace? Fickle was a nice word for what I am! Pam laughed out loud.
It was the weekend. She wanted to talk to her kids even though it was early. They both worked on Saturdays, so they should be up. Taking a cup of coffee back to her bedroom, as she wasn’t ready to chat with her guests yet if they were even still there, she sat on chaise overlooking the ocean and picked up the phone. She dialed Brent’s number first; he was a man of few words. Lisa would keep her on the phone longer. He answered on the first ring.
“Mom! How the heck are you?” he asked her.
Pam told him she was doing pretty well and asked when he could come back for a visit. They chatted for five minutes and then she let him go, Brent promising her that he would let her know the following week when he would come home.
Lisa was just getting up and talked with her mother while she fixed her breakfast, brushed her teeth, did her makeup, and got dressed. Pam didn’t mention any of the negative garbage that had taken place or the baby. But she fully planned on telling both kids about it when they came home next.
After Marie’s revelation the night before, Pam went to Sandra and asked her to please keep what she had heard to herself, which Sandra promised to do. Sandra said she had something important to discuss about the business, but Pam was just too raw to take one more thing in. They promised to talk before the weekend was up.
With the morning and her newfound peace, Pam was anxious to hear what Sandra had to say. She probably wished she had never come to the beach.
The truth was, Sandra was feeling more disgusted with Marie than anything else. Her timing sucked! The day out of the city stretched out before her. She wanted to tell Pam about an idea she had for the business, which might change a lot of the angst she was having over Jack’s decision to give it to her. She planned on lying on the beach, eating inappropriate foods, and ignoring Marie for the rest of the weekend. She came down the stairs into the kitchen after a glorious night of sleep. Nothing that had happened bothered her. She thought she may be becoming callus, but the truth was, Marie’s entire ethic was based in jealousy—jealousy of Pam and now of Sandra. It was horrible that she was molested for all those years. Sandra felt there had to be something underlying. Nothing would make it okay to molest a child, but there was something else. She wouldn’t spend time trying to uncover it this weekend, but when they got back to the city, she fully intended on finding out what it was.
She and Pam got to the kitchen at the same time, Pam ready for a second cup of coffee, Sandra going to pour her first.
“When you are ready for more brain work, I’d like to talk to you about an idea I had that would include the children in their father’s business. I know it is early for business talk.”
Pam pointed to a glass pedestal covered cake plate that was filled with danish.
“Let’s eat first. My brain is still foggy from sleeping,” Pam replied. “What a beautiful morning! I can’t wait to get outdoors!” Pam got the butter out of the refrigerator. Butter on a danish—she was living dangerously.
“I am lying on the beach today if it is the last thing I do.” Sandra was in her comfort zone with Pam. They had weathered last night. Sandra knew where she was to blame. She made a horrible moral lapse in judgment. The payment was huge, raising a child she bore of a married man alone. She needed Pam, so she would do what was needed to maintain a relationship with her. If it meant groveling, she would grovel. She wasn’t above any act of contrition to make this right. The fact that Pam seemed okay this morning after the terrible revelation of Marie’s proved that she was a powerfully strong woman. Sandra wondered if she knew that. She doubted it. “Did you have anything you wanted to do today? You had mentioned the flea market.’” Sandra looked at her.
Pam laughed. “I think the beach sounds wonderful. I’ll go find some shorts to put on.” She grabbed her coffee cup and plate of danish and went back to her room. If she seemed like she was fleeing from the scene of a crime, it was because she didn’t have anything to say yet, especially not wanting to discuss business with Marie in the house.
Sandra didn
’t seem to notice and took her own coffee and breakfast out on the veranda. The air was warm, and there was a soft, ocean breeze. She pulled out a chair that faced that water and sat down. Sipping the coffee, she thought, I could live like this so easily. I love it here. The house is comfortable, the property beautiful, what could be more wonderful? The danish was fabulous, flaky pastry with a marvelous filling that was part cheese, part almond paste. The one thing Sandra had going for her right now was that she needed to gain some weight, and there was a good chance this danish would help her out. If she could figure out a way, she would live here indefinitely with Pam. For now, she would be content with this weekend, and maybe every weekend in the future. Laughing to herself, she bit into the danish.
Marie slept until 11:00 a.m. She woke up in a sweat, the sun beating in through her window. Her hair was wet, stuck to her face and neck. She had a headache. The icing on the cake was that she feared she had started her period, cramps traveling from her belly down to her knees. She stumbled out of her bed and through the bathroom door. She confirmed her fears when she pulled down her pants. Back in the bedroom, Marie went through her suitcase and pulled out the most comfortable clothes she brought, baggy shorts and a long-sleeved T-shirt. She took a cool shower, washing her hair and conditioning it with expensive stuff Pam had left for her. She dressed and wrapped her hair in a bath towel. Pam and Sandra were out on the beach, sitting in folding chairs under a huge beach umbrella. Marie was glad for the solitude, but happy that her sister was within yelling distance. The coffee pot was empty, but there was a full thermos left for her. She poured a cup for herself. Taking the cup, and the entire covered cake plate of pastries, she headed for the veranda. The Saturday edition of the New York Times was on the table. She would read it from cover to cover, eating what was left of the pastries. The sugar made her feel lightheaded. She drank another cup of coffee. This was what Saturdays at the beach were all about.
When she finished with the paper, she got up and went into Jack’s den. There, she would find shelf after shelf of fiction. She chose a couple of books that were unfamiliar and took them to her room, throwing them on the bed. Then she went back to the kitchen and picked snacks out of the refrigerator and the pantry. A can of diet soda completed her stash. She would lie in bed, propped up on pillows, eating and reading all afternoon. She couldn’t remember the last time she gave in to laziness. Years and years ago, she thought, and it was long overdue.
Sometime after 2:00 p.m., she must have fallen asleep. There was a soft knock on her door, but she slept through it. Pam opened it and peaked in at her baby sister to make sure she was okay. Seeing the snack bags and fruit peals, she smiled and thought, Good. The empty cake tray had already been discovered. Marie needed to rest.
Marie woke up at 4:00. Her cramps were better, and with the nap, she finally felt refreshed. She rolled out of bed and sat at the edge of it for a few minutes. What would the rest of the day bring? Everything about she and Jack was on the table. There couldn’t possibly be any more surprises, could there? She knew that she, for one, was not going to try to rationalize her behavior or that of Jack’s, make excuses, apologize, or expect apologies. She was finished with it. What was done was done. Sandra being pregnant was inconsequential, as far as Marie was concerned. What Pam chose to do with that information was up to her. The day had shown Marie the truth; she only had herself to blame. She had possibly attempted to gain some sympathy by blasting out her story as she did. Now, she was only regretful. She assumed that she had destroyed the relationship that she had with her sister, and rightly so. Jack could only be blamed for the part of their relationship that took place when she was underage, correct? The adult phase had to be shared. She thought of the nights he slept at her apartment. He’d call Pam on his cell phone to say good-night from time to time. She remembered Pam saying on one occasion that he rarely did that. Was it only when he was in her apartment that he called, possibly for her benefit? To say, “See, I’m still married to your sister, although I am here with you.” She would love to ask him, but it was too late.
Marie got up and left her room. Sandra was sitting at the counter, eating a piece of fruit, reading a take-out menu. Pam was puttering at the sink. They looked up when she came into the kitchen.
“Well, good afternoon! I was beginning to wonder if you were alive in there!” Her sister said. Pam seemed chipper. Marie wondered how she did it. Was she daft? Maybe that was it. Whatever quality made her able to stay so upbeat in the face of so much garbage was pretty amazing. “Oh, just to warn you, Mom called, and she is coming here for dinner tonight.” Marie’s heart sunk. Had Pam called her? Were they going to confront her? She didn’t even want to go there with her sister.
“Oh. Why? If I may ask,” Marie said. “Hasn’t there been enough drama around here? Thanks to me, of course.” She smiled to show that she was taking the blame, not accusing.
Pam looked over at Marie. “I sort of thought you might be able to tell me why.”
Marie shook her head no. “I have no idea. I’m not sure I will survive it, of that much I am certain.” She slumped onto a counter stool. “What was the reason again we got together this weekend?” She looked quizzically at Pam. “I did not plan to throw that bomb out last night. I wasn’t even going to mention it, but I apologize now. My timing sucked.”
Sandra looked at Pam. She started chuckling. “Yes, Pam, what was it we were going to do?”
Pam shook her head in honest confusion. “I can’t really remember now. I just thought that Jack’s death would bring the three women who loved him the most together. Yes, Marie, you too. I know you loved him, not as it turns out how you loved him, but that really doesn’t matter now. There is something about the three of us that seemed worth pursuing to me—almost three generations, all focused on the same man. Now I wonder if he was capable of love, although Marie seemed to think he loved you, Sandra.”
The two sisters looked at her. She flushed.
“He told me he loved you, Pam. We know he did. But it was Jack’s brand of love. Love with strings. Love with pain. I said yesterday that I thought Marie was selfish. But the truth is, Jack was selfish. And because of the women around him, let’s include Bernice in this; he got away with it. He took what he wanted and didn’t deny himself anything. He was so charming!” The three women all smiled at that.
“Granted, he was a charmer, all right,” said Pam, thinking of her devotion to him, waiting on his every word. But then she stopped coming into the city. Did he move her out to get her out of the way? So he could play? She kept her doubts to herself. She cared enough about herself to refuse to stay where she was and be unhappy. That, at least, was a plus.
“But what about Mom? I really don’t think I can deal with her now.” Marie was struggling to keep the whine out of her voice.
“Well, she is on her way, my friend, there is nothing you can do about it now.” Pam turned her back to fill a pitcher with water. She could feel her patience waning. “I want her to meet Sandra anyway. Let’s keep the intrigue out of the conversation tonight, okay? There is plenty of time for that later.’”
“I think I would like a Philly cheesesteak,” Sandra said, getting back to the take-out menus.
“They smell so awful! We all better get them, then,” Marie said.
So they ordered cheesesteaks, fries, greek salads, and bread sticks. When the food came, they took it out on the veranda to eat. Marie was going with the flow, trying to stay relaxed and not lose it in the face of Sandra’s revelation, her mother coming, and having to go back to work on Monday. What the point of the weekend really was had eluded her. Had Pam planned it to give Sandra a platform for her announcement? She might get the courage to ask later.
The food was handed around. Pam was obviously trying to say something; she kept pausing and looking at her guests. Finally, she spoke up.
“I don’t want to start a conversation about this, but I have something to say that I want said before my mother shows up. From no
w on, my motive in life is to facilitate the children—Lisa, Brent, and now the baby. Those three beings are the purpose of us staying civil. It has to be all about them, especially the baby. Nothing is more important than the baby. If it weren’t for my two children, then I wouldn’t have to worry about the baby. But it is their sibling.” She looked over at Marie. “Can you agree with this? What happened to you was awful. But you are an adult now. Get some help if you have to. But don’t make it about the children or about me. I am sorry my husband did what he did to you.”
Marie was chewing on a mouth full of food. What did Pam expect of her? She swallowed.
“I guess I can agree with it. What do you want from me?” Sandra’s head swung around to Marie. What a bitch! she thought. “What I meant was, how can I help you achieve that?” she said, looking directly at Sandra.
Pam answered for her. “We can achieve it by thinking of the baby first, not of ourselves. Marie, if I can get over what has happened to my family, you can get over it, too. Let’s stop now before Mom gets here.”
At 7:00 p.m., Nelda arrived. She was looking forward to spending the evening with her daughters. They hadn’t been together since the funeral. Although only two weeks had passed, it felt much longer.
Pam greeted her at the door, and Nelda was slightly taken aback by her appearance—no makeup, hair pulled back in a banana clip, bathing suit cover-up.
“Good beach day?” she inquired.
Pam led the way to the veranda.
“Fabulous. I can’t remember the last time I spent all day reading under an umbrella.”
When she stepped over the threshold to the veranda, Nelda grabbed her shirt at the neck. Did I just see Marie? Oh God, was she anorexic again? She was literally grey, and although she was sitting there eating a cheesesteak, of all things, she was skeletal. Nelda kept her mouth shut, trying not to purse her lips.
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