“What’s wrong?” Pam asked. Jeff came up to her, pale, embarrassed.
“Jason’s not here yet, and I can’t reach him on his cell phone. Paul said he tried calling him earlier today to see if he wanted to drive in together, but there was no answer at the house. No one’s heard from him, and it doesn’t look like his kids are here. My ex-wife has been trying to reach him for the past half hour.”
Pam had two choices; she could flee or she could stay and face their friends and family. Silently deliberating, the men were telling her what they thought she should do. Their voices talking at her in the periphery of her hearing pounded her eardrums. Needing to build up the courage to accept that Jason stood her up at the altar, she would move forward right that second. The wedding planner stood helpless, never having experienced this in twenty years of weddings.
“Wait for ten more minutes, and if he doesn’t show up, I’ll make an announcement, something simple, like
the groom’s been detained
,” Jeff said.
“Wait, the groom’s been
detained
? You really want to say that?” she asked, laughing. She was so sick of Jeff and his shenanigans she wanted to slap him.
“Thank you, but I’ll handle this,” she pushed her way through and put her hands up in the air, the flowers of her bouquet shimmering, long satin ribbons trailing over her arm. Her family and Jeannie followed her, Jeff, Paul and the priest bringing up the rear while heads turned in the congregation, watching the beautiful woman in a posture of surrender coming toward them.
“Someone ask the organist to stop playing,” she called out. Murmuring rose up, the decibels increasing the closer she got to the altar and a man sitting in front went to the organist and whispered. The music stopped suddenly along with the whispering. The congregation watched the beautiful woman in charge, the candlelight shining on the crystal beads of her gown shimmering like water.
Paul turned to her, offering his arm, and she took it as they walked up the steps to the pulpit together. Pam’s heart was beating so hard, she was afraid she was going to pass out. They figured out how to turn the microphone on, the moments of awkwardness adding familiarity to the surreal scene as the priest stood aside, offering no support.
Finally, she paused long enough to look out over the audience, waving to her sisters and to Jeannie, who sat next to her husband Dave, crying. Seeing the looks of admiration and compassion on the faces of her family and few friends gave her strength. Everyone had already figured out what was coming.
“Thank you so much, all of you, for coming to church today for my wedding. Evidently, Jason isn’t coming. His family isn’t here either, which is worrisome. I’m sure everyone is okay or we would have heard. Paul and Jeff are good friends of Jason’s and they have been unable to get in touch with him.
“So, it looks as though I’m not getting married today,” she said apologetically. More calls of regret rang out, but Pam didn’t want their pity. “You are my
friends
. You know this is
not
the worst thing that has happened to me!
“And I have this gorgeous dress, as you can see,” she stepped out from behind the pulpit and spun for everyone, the appreciative echoes rang out over the crowd with some whistles and catcalls.
“My mother-in-law paid a small fortune for the reception and it’s not going to waste,” she announced, lying, winking at her mother. “You all need to get over to the country club in one hour as planned and enjoy the afternoon. Have a delicious meal, champagne, dance to a great band, and then have wedding cake in honor of me. I love you all, thank you again for coming. Now I am going to go home to be alone for a while. I ask that you please respect my privacy.” Paul offered her his arm and they went out the side exit, but they could hear the applause. Bernice, Nelda, Lisa and Dan were there waiting for her and they hurried her out the side door into the limo before anyone could converge.
“Thank you, Paul,” she called. He nodded, mortified.
“Oh, Mother,” Lisa sobbed. “You are amazing.” Pam had just successfully completed the acting role of a lifetime.
“Dan,” Pam said. “I feel like suing someone. Is there such a thing as alienation of affection?” Dan got so excited he was almost bouncing in the seat.
“Yes, you can do that, you can sue him.”
“I was just kidding,” she said.
Lisa patted his leg. “Don’t get too excited, dear.” The few blocks left to home were made in silence, only an occasional sniff from Bernice or a sigh from Nelda heard, both ready for war. Pam was numb. All she wanted was to get out of the dress and into sweatpants and left alone. It was such an anticlimax to the months of planning and the excitement, she didn’t even feel sad. What had happened? She was wracking her brain, trying to see what hints she’d missed. There had to be abundant opportunities to ask Jason if he was troubled about anything and she must have pushed them off.
“Did anyone see Sandra?” she asked. Turning to her, one by one they shook their heads. “So the answer is no. Where’s my cell phone?” Lisa dug through her purse and handed the phone off. First, she rang Sandra’s cell.
“Right to voice mail,” she said, ending the call without leaving a message. Next, she rang the house phone. Someone with a thick accent answered. Valarie, the nanny.
“Valarie, this is Pam Smith, from the beach.”
“Oh yes, Miss Smith, how do you do?”
“Can I speak to Sandra?”
“She’s not here,” Valarie said. “She left last night for the weekend.”
“Do you know where?”
“I think Philadelphia,” Valarie said. Pinpricks of pain danced along Pam’s arms, going up her chest and neck to her cheeks.
I hope I’m not having a heart attack.
Pam ended the call without saying goodbye. Valarie was a responsible adult; she’d look after baby Brent, who was at the
getting into everything
age. Pam had made it so easy for Sandra. Easy enough that she could leave her toddler for an entire weekend over and over again.
Attempting to block out an incident that occurred the previous fall, Pam returned a call from Sandra and Valarie had answered the phone that day as well.
“Miss Pam,” she’d said, “Miss Benson went on a boat to Cape May.” Pam was speechless; the night before Jason said he was taking the boat down to Cape May to have some bright work repaired. They’d laughed about it because she hated boats so it was never an option for her to go along.
“Did she say she was going with Dr. Bridges?” Pam asked calmly, not as if it hurt to speak, her vocal cords in spasm she was so angered by the news.
“Yes,” Valarie replied. “Dr. Bridges.” After instructing Valarie to tell Sandra she’d called, Pam hung up the phone in the hallway, numb. Walking to her bedroom nearly in a trance, she was determined not to react. Sandra was available to go on the boat, and she wasn’t. Jason was apparently no longer able to do things without a companion. It was up to Pam to weigh the importance of the action, but it would be over her dead body that she confronted Jason
or
Sandra. Let Valarie do the exposé.
Back in the limo, everyone was looking at her waiting, but she couldn’t speak. Could it be possible that Sandra went to be with Jason?
“Well, where
was
she?” Nelda asked, but Pam just shook her head, a strange loyalty to Jason preventing her from telling the truth, afraid to hear what they might say about him. Closing her eyes, the pressure in the car rose increasing the pain in her head to excruciating. Looking out the window, she saw the house as the limo pulled up. Her
fortress,
that house. Fortunately, the neighbors hadn’t heard yet; she could get out of the car and inside without them accosting her. The family did their best to help her out, gather her things, get her into the house. Going directly to her room, Pam shut the door, needing to be alone until she started to feel. The sound of a well-meaning voice, telling her how to feel or what she should do next might push her to the edge. She’d walk the tightrope, wanting to maintain balance because if she fell, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to get up again.
Chapter 2
Her room was cool and dark and no sound from the rest of the house could penetrate it. Standing in the center, she tried to feel Jack, but he’d abandoned her. The night before, she dreamed about him and the dreams woke her up as she cried out in her sleep for the ghostly specter. Completely alone after suffering catastrophic loss over the past five years; widowhood, loss of a child, illness and betrayal, being stood up at the altar by Jason was about a number two on the pyramid of importance if ten the most important. She laughed when she thought of it that she’d compared what Jason had done to her as
a number two
. The few things that hurt
less
than what he’d done that day included forgetting to check the expiration date on a quart of milk before she bought it. He was almost a zero.
Maybe therein laid the problem.
Introspection not productive, she’d get out of
the dress
. Avoiding mirrors, she tried to undo the fasteners at the back but was unable to reach them. She went into the bathroom and dug through a basket of old items, unused but useful, that she’d salvaged from Jack’s drawer before the bathroom renovation. There she found a pair of his delicate mustache scissors, and starting at her waist; she carefully stuck the pointed tip into the side seam and began to cut. She wanted to cut it off her completely, but being sensible, and also knowing her mother-in-law would have a fit if she knew Pam had cut up a ten thousand dollar dress, she just released the seam. It was easy to pull it off after that, being extra careful not to rip into the fabric.
Getting the crystal strand out of her hair was a more difficult task; Pam’s hairdresser wove it around her own hair and a few fake locks, making it impossible to untangle on her own. In frustration, after pulling it into a cockeyed mess, she’d leave it alone until after washing the makeup off her face. She didn’t want anything left of the day on her body, no reminders of pomp and circumstance, of hopes for a life with Jason.
What the hell had happened?
Finally having the courage to look at her reflection, the stranger staring back at her had no answers. The numbness transcended anger so she could get through the day until the feeling returned. Maybe it wouldn’t be as bad as she thought. Slipping her feet into sandals, she’d walk the beach. It was early enough in the season that she wouldn’t have to step around mounds of bodies and late enough in the day that curiosity seekers would have gone home.
“Can one of you help me with this hair?” She asked, walking into the kitchen. Lisa and Dan were still there, sitting at the kitchen counter. Lisa had been crying but was pulling it together. Nelda was preparing a late lunch while Bernice paced, her cane tapping the floor. They looked up as she spoke, sighs of relief audible. Pam was a trouper.
“Come here, dear,” Bernice said, pointing to a chair. Pam sat down and Lisa and Bernice worked on her hair for five minutes, pulling hairpieces and crystals out of the mess.
“Put it into a ponytail, will you? I need to take a walk.”
“There are reporters out in front,” Dan said gently.
“What about in back? I’ll wear a scarf and dark glasses.” He disappeared into the veranda.
“The beach is empty,” he said. “Take pepper spray.” He’d purchased pepper spray for all the women, preparing for the day the mother of his baby, Cara Ellison, a former Miss New York, who’d assaulted him, was released from jail.
“Okay,” Pam said, not arguing. She’d blast anyone who dared to get in her way.
“Won’t you eat a little something first?” Nelda asked.
“Mother, even the thought of food makes me want to hurl,” Pam said firmly, the others agreeing, giggling at the word foreign to Pam’s lips.
“Mom, we’re going back to Smithtown to pick up Gladys and the kids,” Lisa said, hugging her. “We’ll be back in an hour.” Pam squeezed her arm.
“Thank you, honey, I really appreciate it.” She went to the pantry and grabbed a grocery bag. Bernice frowned.
“You’re going to pick up trash on a day like this?”
“Yes. What better time. Hopefully, I’ll find glass, too,” Pam answered. Beach glass. The world could come to an end, and if she found a piece of beach glass it would make her happy for a little longer.
I’m a simpleton,
she thought snickering.
So shoot me.
The sun was starting its descent behind the house.
What a complete waste of a day
,
but maybe I can salvage some of it
. She’d focus on the water and the sand, looking for beach glass, practicing deep breathing. In, to the count of ten, out to the count of ten. In, out.
What is wrong with me?
A therapist could most likely diagnose her quickly. One failed relationship after another. She jumped into relationships before getting to know the men well enough.
Going back into the house, she retrieved her phone, dialing Jason’s number. It went to voice mail and she hung up before the recording started. The temptation to call every five minutes was intense. He’d see her number on his phone.
Stepping onto the wooden walkway that Jack had built for Bernice when she broke her ankle years before, leading from the veranda to the water, peace flooded her. Pam was no longer at the mercy of what Jason had done, the disaster at the church a distant memory. She was simply Pam. Widowed, a mother of one living child and one dead, a grandmother of two. Baby Brent fit into the grandparent picture, but Pam needed to work out where Sandra fit when she was thinking more clearly; right now she couldn’t even remember what she had for breakfast that morning.
As she walked north, she concentrated on the specific details of the beach. The sound of the waves crashing on the sand, the fine line of brown foam left behind when the wave retreated, the tiny sea creatures burrowing into the wet compacted sand at the water’s edge. The smells of seaweed and beach roses. The wind blowing sand against her face, the sun overhead, blue sky, ships out to sea.