Don't You Forget About Me (29 page)

“I tried to call you, and when you didn’t answer, I got worried. So I called Jim, who was at work, and he got the uniforms involved. I made it uptown from Brooklyn in less than thirty minutes.”

She was sucking the ice cream up her straw with all of her might. It was not easy! “How’d he even get out? Bill, I mean. I thought he couldn’t make bail?” Sandra was so glad that he would be put away for a long time.

“Mom,” Tom answered. She got a big check from some auction house today—an advance on a sale they are going to have. Sadly, she won’t be getting that money back. Gotta love New York law. By the way, Billy sends his apologizes. ‘I didn’t mean to scare her,’ he says.”

Jim was on the phone with his wife, lying about dinner. He was supposed to be eating salad from the cafeteria tonight.

Sandra was getting ready to stuff the last of her burger in her mouth. Her appetite seemed to increase in the past hour, in spite of the trauma she had experienced. “Would you like to come to the beach with me this weekend? I’m going to ask Pam if it’s all right, first thing in the morning. The drama is over, for the most part. Unless Marie tells us she is going to have a sex-change operation, it should be very peaceful.” She told Tom about how Marie had gone out of her way for Sandra that afternoon. She thought it was a gesture of friendship.

“You better wait to make any plans. I don’t think you realize the magnitude of what you went through tonight. It will probably hit you later. It’s a sort of shock you are in right now.” Tom was looking at her with concern.

He’s probably right
, she thought. But it wasn’t all that bad. She knew she was lucky Tom and the other policemen got there when they did.
What would Bill have done? Would he have killed me?
They would never know. “What will the charges be?” she asked.

“For one thing, he manhandled you when he placed the gag and tied you up, so we have the possibility of battery. Then he held you against your will, and that constitutes kidnapping. And he got into your apartment without your knowledge. On top of his theft charges, breaking parole, and the restraining order violation, he may be gone for good,” Tom said.

“He won’t get bail again, that is for sure,” Jim added. “Can I take you two home? I have to get working on the
case.” He turned the car around, and they headed back uptown.

Tom had his arm around Sandra’s shoulders, and he leaned over and kissed her again. She felt like she was a teenager, making out in the back of a car and said as much.

“Don’t look in your rearview mirror, Jim! We’re being naughty back here.” Jim went through a charade of adjusting his mirror so he could see the backseat. The car pulled up to her building, and Tom got out first and offered her his hand. She was surprised at how stiff she felt. The EMTs had tried to convince her to go to the hospital to be checked, but she was afraid her HIV status would become an issue. She’d be okay, she hoped. She stood on the sidewalk, her neighbors walking by, curious about how she came to be getting out of the back of an unmarked cop car, while Tom talked to Jim. He would be spending the night, and if they needed him, he’d be available.

The car sped off as Tom and Sandra went up the walk to her building. She gave him the key to get the door open, telling him how difficult it had been to unlock earlier. He thought it had been jimmied by Bill. The creepiness factor, someone with his crazy background stalking Sandra and then roughing her up, hit Tom with a force he didn’t recognize. He was glad the man was behind bars now because it meant he was unable to kill him. He understood the potential for police brutality. He’d call in later and make sure the people in charge knew the victim was a policeman’s girlfriend.

Friday.
What did Friday used to mean to me when Jack was alive?
Marie thought. She was on a roller coaster
again—one minute, glad she was free of him; the next, feeling hopeless. Jeff Babcock had provided a respite for a brief time, a few weeks of hope that she could have a normal relationship with a man. His revelation last night didn’t surprise her as much as it pissed her off.
Why? Why do I attract men who are unavailable?

In the past, Friday meant getting ready for the weekend. She loved going home and preparing for the drive to the beach. She wouldn’t leave until Saturday; her gesture of respect to her sister, allowing Pam and Jack one night of privacy before Marie would come and usurp his attention. Pam had no idea of what was going on right under her nose for thirty years. Jack called her his high-maintenance girl, but the truth was she didn’t need him for much at all, as far as you could tell by looking at the surface. He was free to live in the city, have affairs, and when he was home, all he had to do was golf and play around with Marie. She put her head down on her desk and fought back tears. What a waste. Then there was a knock on her door.

“Come in,” she said reluctantly.

It was Steve Marks. He had a rakish grin on his face, a “you’ll forgive me anything” look. Marie stood up as he walked through the door.

“Anyone but you! Get out before I tell my boss about last night.”

He put both hands up in the air and started walking backward toward her door. “You can’t blame a guy for trying,” he whined.

“Oh yes I can! I talked to my sister’s boyfriend, who’s NYPD, and he said I already have a case for a restraining order against you. Stay away from my apartment! And if
you continue to bother me here at work, I’ll file a harassment charge against you.”
So I told a white lie, kill me
.

He giggled at her. “You’re not serious, right?” He lingered in her doorway until she started walking toward him.

“Dead serious! Now get out!” She slammed her door, no longer concerned that other employees or even her boss would hear. She had never caused a second of trouble here; he had better stand behind her and protect her. Or she would take matters into her own hands.

38

B
y early Saturday morning, Pam hadn’t heard from either her sister or Sandra about their plans for the weekend. She forced herself out of bed to prepare for Sharon’s arrival and the drama of telling her about the AIDS. Nelda may be dead for all she knew; she went up to her apartment yesterday afternoon and refused to answer her phone. Susan finally left, having a two-hour drive home to Connecticut. She had offered to take Nelda back with her, but Sharon was planning on taking her and needed to be told the news. She’d have her week with Mom and then bring her back when the kids were home for Labor Day weekend.

The scene with Nelda had exhausted Pam. She went to bed soon after her sister left, thinking she would lie down for a while and get up to eat something later. She ended up sleeping through the night. She woke up without the alarm, lying on her back and looking up at the ceiling. The telltale light of day was already creeping into her room, just over the closed drapes. It must have been after 7:00.

She was right. Getting up out of bed, she stretched, going to the window to open the drapes. The beach was a clean, white slate, waiting for sunbathers and dog walkers, children with Frisbees, and shell collectors. When she and Jack planned this life, she hadn’t imagined it without him.
Does any married couple? Even though he never lived there full time, the thought of him was always foremost in her mind: Jack’s house, his office, his car, his golf clubs, his friends, his children. Her own needs didn’t factor into much of their life or what they did together. It was usually all about Jack.

Who was she? Who was Pam? While she was in the shower, she tried to remember what her dreams were when she was growing up. Since an early age, she wanted only one thing, and that was to have her own family and home. She would struggle to maintain the picture in her head of what a family should be. Determined to connect with her children, she refused to allow the busyness of life to interfere with what was really important to her. She was successful at it. Her son and daughter were happy, well-adjusted adults who praised their mother. It was true; Pam had just the life she wanted.

And although she would strive to never criticize her own mother, Pam couldn’t help but compare her mother’s selfishness now, when she was needed by her daughter, to the selflessness she practiced back when she was raising her family. Although it wasn’t spoken of anymore, Sharon, the second child, had been born with a congenital spine defect and had to have surgery after surgery. Nelda devoted every waking second to her care, unintentionally at the expense of the other girls in the family. Susan was born one year to the day after Sharon, and although she rarely acknowledged it, her childhood was a nightmare of neglect and chaos. If it hadn’t been for Pam, she wouldn’t have survived. And then Marie was born. Pam remembered
everyone was shocked when her mother started to show with her pregnancy.

“Fer heaven’s sake,” her grandmother had said loudly, “didja ever hear of a rubber?”

Nelda couldn’t cope. She let the baby lay in wet diapers all day, and when Pam got home from school, she took over.

“Go rest, Mom. Everything is under control.” The ten-year-old became the mother’s helper, and the new baby bonded with the sister, not the mother. Susan bonded with no one. Although Pam tried to care for her, she was so independent at a young age that she didn’t seem to need anyone. As much as Pam hated to admit it, she had done the same thing to Marie, only worse. Marie was her mother’s helper. She begged to move in with Pam and Jack right after they got married, and Pam would have allowed it if Nelda had. She should have never let the girl come within ten miles of Jack. Pam knew it was her fault—the abuse, the AIDS, Marie’s battle with depression and anorexia. Nelda had been a fabulous mother compared to Pam. Her children had at least been protected from vileness until Pam allowed Jack into their lives.

Pam let the tears come while she was in the shower. It was so sad, so wasted. She had to forgive herself. There was nothing she could do now. What was done was done. Hopefully, Sandra and Marie were coming for the weekend. She would concentrate on them and meeting their needs. It was the least she could do.

Sharon arrived to pick up Nelda by 9:00. She was alarmed when she saw Pam and voiced her concern.

“I’ll explain. Can we talk before I tell Mother you are here? She is angry with me right now. Coffee?”

Sharon accepted a cup. They went out to the veranda, the preferred place, it would seem, to give and receive bad news.

“Okay, let me preface this by saying it isn’t as dire as it sounds. I have AIDS.” She waited, looking at her sister search her face.

Sharon started sobbing and grabbed Pam. Over and over she repeated, “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry,” and then she stopped to blow her nose.

Pam explained the circumstances surrounding how she got the diagnosis.

“Why is Mother angry? Wait, let me guess. She wants to know who gave it to you, correct? That’s Mom!” she replied when Pam nodded yes.

“My own children don’t know yet. I have to be able to have a dialogue that will satisfy them and leave me some privacy at the same time. I don’t want Mother knowing all the gory details! It’s none of her business,” she repeated for the umpteenth time that week. Pam got up to refill their cups. “She probably won’t speak to me, so why don’t I go into my bedroom when she comes down?” She heard Nelda and left for her bedroom, hugging her first. “Bye,” she whispered.

“So hello, Mother!” Sharon said to Nelda. “Are you ready to leave? We have soccer games to go to this afternoon.” She took one of the bags her mother brought with her.

“Where’s Pam? Is she going to let me leave without saying good-bye?” Nelda was still angry and was whiney and petulant.

“Can you say good-bye to her without making her feel bad, Mother?”

Nelda started to say something and then thought better of it. “I want to say good-bye to her.” Nelda was not going to budge, so Sharon went to Pam’s bedroom door and knocked.

“She wants to see you,” Sharon singsonged through a crack in the door.

Pam came out and hugged her mother, a bright and cheerful smile on her face. “Have a wonderful week!”

“So you really aren’t going to tell me anymore?” Nelda said.

“Oh for God’s sake!” Pam and Sharon said loudly.

“Good-bye, Mother!” Pam shouted and went back to her room.

Sharon sped along the parkway toward Staten Island, hoping her mother would shut up. The old lady had not stopped complaining and criticizing Pam for the past half hour. She called her lazy and selfish, said she was a terrible wife for not staying in the city with her husband, and that her children escaped to college because they couldn’t bear living with their mother. Sharon was never able to stand up to her mother’s cloying protection and felt guilty because Nelda had devoted her life to caring for her when she was an ill child. Finally, unable to squelch her anger, Sharon exploded.

“Mother, please be quiet!” she yelled. “I don’t want to hear another word out of you. Do you understand me? How can you say those things about your own daughter?” Nelda was livid.

“How dare you speak to me that way? You have always been an insolent, disrespectful child! After all I did for you! Night after night in the hospital I sat with you. You never wanted for a thing your entire life! Everyone else worked while they were in college! Dad and I sacrificed to put you through school! He worked two jobs for years to give you everything you needed! All those years of doing without so you could have everything, and then you talk to me like this? Take me back home right now!” She was leaning forward with her hands on the dashboard, screaming at Sharon.