Not for what Jason had done, but for her past, she started to cry. She wanted Jack, Brent and her sister, Marie to be alive, the children to be little, the most important thing she had to do for the day was to cook their dinner. The concept of the death of a young person mystified her; it was so final, so unfair. Expecting to hear Jack’s voice any second or even Brent’s day after day was torture. Would that ever go away? Did she
want
it to? Her memories kept her sane. Or did they? There was nothing else to take their place.
She thought of Sandra again, the mother of her grandson. What did she owe Sandra? Since Brent was dead, Pam would be the benefactor of baby Brent; or not. She had a vindictive need to punish Sandra and withdrawing support would be the most effective way to do it.
The aftermath of Pam’s phone call answered by Valarie on the day of the boat trip to Cape May last fall began with return calls from both Sandra and Jason that night, apologetic, almost bordering on hysteria. They were so sorry for the apparent betrayal, but they were claiming innocence. She wanted the boat ride and he needed a companion in case he needed to go below. Pam knew it was an absurdity, but it was her nature to take things at face value and she’d forgiven them both, refusing to allow fantasy to take over and ruin her relationship. But she had to ask Sandra about one detail.
“Did you wear your thong bathing suit?” Sandra denied it vehemently. Now Pam wondered if they hadn’t made their calls while they were still together. Not wanting to believe they were having an affair, Jason didn’t seem to have it in him. But whatever they were doing made her feel insecure and that made it wrong.
Coming back to the present time on the beach, a half hour north and two pieces of beach glass later, she turned around and headed toward home. Looking down as she walked, she was unaware of observers on the access roads noticing her, pointing and whispering. News traveled fast in Babylon. The cupola with the brass weathervane on top of her house came into view just as a suntanned, white-haired man appeared. Jeff, the last person she wanted to see.
“Are you okay?” he hollered. She had to laugh.
What a dork. Just tell the world already.
“I’m okay,” she shouted back. He’d also be the last person on earth she’d confide in, ever again.
“Do you want to talk?” he asked when he came along side her.
“Not to you,” she said, snickering.
“I’m so sorry,” Jeff replied softly. She heard the regret in his voice, but it didn’t make any difference. “I’m so sorry I betrayed your confidence.”
“Tell it to my attorney,” she said. He chuckled.
“Okay, I deserved that. As unbelievable as it seems, I do believe you are going to be alright.”
“I’m okay,” she repeated. “I think I was just saved from a lifetime of hell.”
“Did you have any idea?” Pam stopped and pulled her sunglasses off.
“Jeff, stop with the questions. I’m not discussing it with you. Ask your brother-in-law if you want answers.” She slipped her glasses on and walked faster toward the house. “And don’t bother me again, Jeff. Ever.” With that, she went into the veranda, but remembering something, she stepped back out. “And return my house key. I’ll send
Dan
over this afternoon for it.” She was glad she’d made the last comment because it did her good to see the look of regret and remorse on Jeff’s face.
He’d brought it on himself.
Her best friend after Jack died, Pam trusted Jeff as she had no other person. Without Jeff, she would have been alone while the children were away at college. His betrayal was so devastating, ending their friendship was the only choice she had. Pretending nothing had happened between them was not an option. It would have been so nice to have Jeff and his new husband, Ted close by, a ready-made, built in family. But for whatever reason the universe saw fit, it wasn’t to be.
What was the reason any of this had happened?
She hated it when people used the expression
it happened for a reason
. What
possible
reason? She reminded herself that someone else was sure to fill the void distancing Jeff left, making the loneliness bearable. The key was not to look too far ahead. Today, she had her family, and that would be enough.
Lisa and Dan returned with the children and Gladys, filling the next hours with the sound of two boys; one-year old Marcus and his younger half-brother, Dan, Jr., the son of former Miss New York, Cara Ellison. Marcus loved the baby already. Lisa put Dan, Jr. on a blanket on the floor and Marcus would sit next to him, keeping him occupied with toys and the occasional dirty finger to suck.
Sister Megan, two and a half going on thirty-six, asked undecipherable questions non-stop and was Lisa’s daughter with her late husband, Ed. And lastly, Miranda, Marie’s daughter, a quiet four-year old who was content to stay close to Lisa and observe. Lisa’s usual posture was with a baby on her hip, Miranda next to her with Lisa’s hand on her shoulder. Unconsciously, every so often Lisa would gently pull the little girl closer to her and rub her arm, the love between the two of them obvious.
Until recently when they broke up, Sandra and her ex-boyfriend, New York cop Tom had had conditional custody of Miranda after Marie’s death. During that time, they never mentioned Marie’s name and others were reluctant to bring it up in case it would make Sandra and Tom uncomfortable.
After the break up, Miranda came to live with Lisa and Dan. Slowly, the family was introducing
your real mommy
into conversations. “Your real mommy had the same color hair as you.”
“You have the exact same eye color as your real mommy.”
“Your real mommy is in heaven,” Gladys had said to her. If Miranda was thinking about Marie, she kept it to herself.
Sandra didn’t put up a fight that Lisa was taking Miranda now that she had son Brent to occupy her time. He was Pam’s grandson from her late son Brent.
Back at Pam’s, Lisa was attempting to help her adapt to her new family. “Do you want to play with Megan and Granny Gladys?” Lisa asked. Miranda shook her head and crept in a little closer.
“The reception must be over,” Dan said when the phone started to ring. Lisa, Nelda and Pam circled the machine, screening calls. Anyone who really wanted to talk to her would call her cell phone and so far, only Jeannie and Pam’s sisters got in touch.
“I hope you’re okay,” Susan said, then correcting herself. “Well,
of course
, you’re okay! This is small potatoes after what you’ve been through. We were going to stop by if that was okay. Let me know by four.”
“What do you think?” Pam asked Nelda.
“Let them come if you think it will help you. I don’t have to see either one. How friggin sad is that?” Pam patted her arm.
“Sorry, Mother. I’m going to tell them to come because we might not see them again for a long time. I don’t know about all of you, but I’m sick to death of hosting parties here and never getting a reciprocal invitation.”
“Not to mention they’ve barely acknowledged Marcus’ birth. Now that ticks me off,” Nelda said, bristling.
“Noni I really don’t care about it. I’m used to it after no one sent me a card after Megan was born.”
“People have no manners,” Bernice said. “It’s like they’ve forgotten how to say thank you.” The women looked at Bernice and sadly nodded their heads. No one said it out loud, but they were all thinking; things had changed since Jack died. They would have been deluged with well wishes from all of his friends and business associates.
“When you graduated from high school, did you realize we opened a bank account just to keep track of the checks you received?” Pam said. “I’ve got a storage container in the attic of greeting cards Daddy’s friends sent you.”
“Someday when we don’t have anything better to do, let’s dig that out,” Bernice said and they agreed.
“Anyway, I have to send all those damn gifts back now. How many times did we have to say
no gifts
? Or write
no gifts, please
? I should make Jason do it, but we all know how reliable
he
is.”
“At least you had fun over the past year,” Nelda said.
***
Life at the beach certainly wasn’t static that year with Pam rarely home on the weekends, spending more time antiquing and flea marketing with Jason. Bernice and Annabelle played cards while Nelda or former-mother-in-law Gladys spent several days a week at Lisa’s house, helping with her brood. Nanny Daniela had been with Lisa and Dan for a year already. But with two infants, they really needed a third pair of hands and Dan liked Nelda around more than Gladys. She was the only one in the family who understood his special brand of sarcasm.
Gearing up to fight Cara’s parole; in less than a week, she’d be eligible, and with eligibility, they feared that she’d demand visitation or worse, custody of baby Dan. Lisa’s attorney was laying the groundwork for Lisa to adopt Dan Junior and it looked promising as long as Cara finished out the fifteen-year sentence for assaulting Dan Senior with a frying pan.
With four children to care for Lisa was barely hanging on. Nursing both babies, she couldn’t drink. But the lure of a cocktail every day at lunch was becoming almost impossible to ignore. Finally, in a fit of righteous indignation, she told Dan she didn’t want alcohol in the house.
“Why? I rarely take a drink,” he argued.
“Yes, but lately it’s all I think of. If I weren't so busy, I’d go to AA.” Dan scratched his head, worried about the deeper meaning of what his wife was trying to say, not wanting to take it lightly but, on the other hand, placing too much importance on something that hadn’t happened yet didn’t seem wise.
“You need a break,” he said. “Your grandmother is here with the nanny. Take off. Go shopping, get a massage, join a club. Do something for yourself.” None of that appealed to her though. Never a joiner, Lisa was a stay at home even as a teenager. Secretly, she knew the problem was her marriage to Dan, how it had damaged her relationship with Pam. Essentially, she was in an unhappy marriage and rather than face it squarely, that her husband had been unfaithful, she was trying to move on without dealing with it. Needing to find a way to forgive him
and
stay married to Dan now that she knew what he was capable of, was taking more energy than she had. Lisa felt like they were always on the brink of some disaster and was afraid the anxiety it produced would eventually hurt her children by making them feel insecure.
The underlying fear was she didn’t want to end up like her mother, ignoring the things that bothered her, keeping the façade of tranquility when she was seething under the surface. Talking herself into being in a good mood was easy enough; the little children were so sweet and joyful it was easy to pretend everything was great as long as her life revolved around caring for them. However, she’d catch herself smiling while she played with the kids, and at the same time grumbling under her breath. Was it the same way it started for Pam? Looking the other way, immersing herself in the activities of her family until the slights of her marriage no longer registered? Not having the nerve to investigate by asking Pam, some questions would go unasked, the answers discovered through Lisa’s own brand of pain and despair.
Having to deal with Jason standing Pam up at the altar, Lisa feared her mother would lapse back into the
resentful
Pam of the year before, the unforgiving Pam, the Pam whose animosity for Dan had seeped over into her feelings for her daughter. Lisa saw it happening at the time, could sense Pam’s growing rancor. It was squelched when she met Jason and found some fulfillment in life again. When Pam and Nelda asked Lisa to take care of Miranda, Lisa felt that their relationship was almost back to normal. Now this.
The evening of the wedding day was exhausting for everyone. Susan and Sharon came to the beach house after the reception to see the children, but their real motive was to question Pam about what had happened.
“Didn’t you notice anything strange when you spoke with him last night?” Susan asked. “Think, Pam. There had to be something.” Pam shook her head but doubted her own powers of observation. She’d been married to an active whoremonger for most of her adult life and never had a clue. Missing signs that her fiancé was ready to ditch her was small potatoes. Fearing Sandra might have something to do with his cold feet she’d keep to herself.
“I didn’t talk to him after noon yesterday,” she admitted. “His son was in from California.” She didn’t add that Aaron was a drug addict and had been a source of concern for her from almost the beginning of her relationship with Jason. He’d been very close with his mother, Emily. After she died, Jason would no longer support Aaron’s lifestyle, so he moved out of the family home.
It wasn’t until Pam started dating Jason that Aaron acted out again, asking Jason for money, or showing up unexpectedly, stoned. His behavior had caused problems the previous Christmas when Aaron arrived at his Uncle Jeff’s house. At the height of the party, he went over to Pam’s house when no one was looking. A friend sidled up to Pam and whispered to her. “Don’t look now, but Jason’s kid just slipped over to you house.” Pam perked up, thanking her, and went to Jason.
“Aaron is over at my house,” she said. Jason didn’t waste any time, taking her by the hand, rushing over the snow-covered sand dune. The first place Jason headed to was Pam’s bathroom; Aaron was looking through her medicine cabinet.
“Can I help you, son?” he asked.
“I’m looking for something for my headache,” he said, continuing to rifle through the bottles.
“Jeff probably has something,” Jason said, maddeningly calm.
“I looked. He had aspirin.” Pam couldn’t take it any longer stepping forward.
“Aaron, where I come from people don’t enter another’s home without asking, and they don’t go through their private medicine cabinets, either. Step aside, please.” She moved in front of him and closed the chest. No one moved, Jason silent. Suddenly, the ludicrousness of this adult being treated like an errant child angered her.