In Memoriam (21 page)

The impulse to call Jason and cancel was strong, but Pam decided the best thing for her to do was just get the stuff for dinner and follow through with the plans. Focusing on shopping helped her; she didn’t seek out Dan again and fortunately didn’t run into him.

It wasn’t until she was loading her car with groceries that she remembered Dan had dated Cara Ellison, Miss New York 1998. “Are you kidding me?” If the opportunity presented itself, she
would
tell Lisa what had happened, providing facts only, using the excuse that she and Dan spoke to each other cordially. It was a first.

Calming down after the confrontation, Pam began to look forward to seeing Jason again. Hopefully, dinner would go well.

~ ~ ~

After running into Pam, Dan had one goal and that was to get out of the store. He could tell Cara was pissed off. Going in public was risky, and he’d hesitated when Cara arrived at his office suggesting they pick up lunch and eat it in the park, a safer option than going to a restaurant.

Getting to his car, he unlocked the door for her and held it open. Starting the air conditioner, he didn’t drive off. “I guess I’m screwed,” he said. His simple words unleased a torrent of venomous words.

“Is that the woman you were dating? I
thought
I recognized her. You married her
daughter
?”

“Cara, what are we doing? I’m not leaving my wife. Is that what you are thinking?”

“Yes, Dan. Yes, that is exactly what I’m thinking. You need to make a decision now. Are you seeing me because you want to be with me? Or are you using me until your wife’s postpartum checkup? I’m ready to call Lisa and tell her everything.”

“You won’t have to because I’m willing to bet her mother is on the phone with her right now. I can’t believe how stupid I am. I’ll take you back to your car; then I’m going home, just in case I have damage control to do.”

“You do that,” Cara said, trying desperately not to start crying.

Dan would say he’d run into Cara in the parking lot. Pam would have no way of knowing if they came together or not unless she was observing from her own car. He’d stick to his story, no matter what.

Driving the rest of the way in silence, Dan didn’t speak until he pulled up next to her car. “I guess we should call it quits.”

Cara looked at him, incredulous. “I already tried that, remember? You’re the one who keeps coming to my door. Stop doing it, and we can call it quits.” She opened the door and slammed it shut, but not before the vision of a holey diaphragm materialized before her. Bending over, she looked into the car window and, giving Dan a huge smile, waved good-bye.

Chapter 19

A beautiful sunset behind the house lured Pam and Jason outside. The reflection off the clouds made the sea look like it was on fire. Nothing could top the view of the ocean from Pam’s veranda. The feeling she had of peace and contentment after dinner was so foreign to her after the past year that she was suspicious. Could a genuine relationship be developing after the false starts she had with so many other men? He was mature, sixty-something, accomplished, a retired physician, intelligent, wealthy and handsome. The only negative, his drug-addicted son, but the young man lived out west, so Pam hoped it was a nonissue.

A potential problem, Jason lived in Philadelphia. What was the point of dating someone who didn’t live locally? She wasn’t leaving Long Island.

He raved about how fabulous Philadelphia was. “It’s a manageable city,” he explained. “You can easily drive from the very top of it to the southern tip in less than an hour. We have a world-class art museum, the finest symphony in the country, and unbelievable restaurants. You should come for a visit someday.”

“Well, maybe I will,” Pam said. “I rarely leave Babylon anymore, and when I do, I always end up regretting it.”

“I’ll make it worth your while, and you won’t have to drive.”

“Oh, I don’t mind driving,” Pam said, thinking it might be beneficial if she had a means of escape in case things didn’t go well. “How long will you be at Jeff’s?” If Jason was going to be around for a while, she’d get a better idea whether she wanted to spend time with him in a foreign city. Well, not foreign, but it might as well have been. Philadelphia was a million miles away.

“Now that I’m retired, I can house-sit whenever he’s away.” Jason cackled. “And you know he’s away all the time.”

When he’d arrived from Philadelphia earlier, Jason came into the house through the beach entrance, whistling when he saw the interior of the veranda. “This place is fabulous.”

Pam looked around, seeing it again through another’s eyes. It
was
fabulous. “Thank you. I spend at least five months of the year out here. It wasn’t always enclosed. After my son was murdered, I felt vulnerable with it open to the elements. There used to be a time that I could sleep on that couch with nothing but mosquito netting between the ocean and me. The Lattimore’s hound dogs barked when a gnat came around, so I counted on them to keep me safe. Last summer, the last one died. It was the end of an era.”

“Do you have pets?” Jason asked.

“Oh no. I’d be horrible with an animal,” Pam answered, shuddering.

“You should have a dog out here, with you alone.”

“Well, I’m not technically alone. My mother and mother-in-law and their attendant are inside. They’re dining back in their wing tonight so we could have some privacy.” She turned to him, batted her eyelashes, and then burst out laughing.
What’s gotten into me?
“We’d have two eighty-year-old women chaperoning.”

“No offense, but two old ladies aren’t much protection.” He was serious.

“This is true,” Pam said. “But if I had a dog, I couldn’t go to Philadelphia with you.”

“We’d bring it,” Jason said. “And that’s what kennels are for.”

“Oh, I could never use a kennel,” Pam said. “I never left my children with a sitter. Not for an hour.”

“Well, you’re very conscientious,” Jason replied somberly.

Yes
, Pam thought.
Maybe if I’d left them with a sitter who beat them, or at least paddled their rears a few times, they wouldn’t have turned out the way they did.

“It’s finally late enough to drink alcohol,” Pam said, jumping up just as the sinking sun left a final orange glow over the dunes.

“Let’s bust out a bottle,” Jason said laughing. “Can dinner wait?”

“Steak on the grill,” Pam replied, reaching into the wine cooler. “We can eat anytime. We’ll have French wine in honor of Jeff.”

Jason laughed, aware that his brother-in-law was a snob who preferred wines from the Hudson Valley.

The next hours enabled shared conversation, the wine doing its work as Pam relaxed, telling more stories. The meal was fabulous, up to her best standards set when Jack was alive. After they ate, Pam opened another bottle of wine, a Vouvray from the Loire Valley. Sinatra played softly as salt air blew the curtains and the sound of a foghorn out to sea made its way to Babylon.

“If we were younger, I’d be grappling you on this very couch,” Jason said softly, leaning into her.

Pam laughed out loud, pulling away. “Oh no, you wouldn’t! At my age, I need the perfectly set stage, non-smear lipstick, a darkened room, and a promise of confidentiality.”

“And two aspirin beforehand to take care of that pesky arthritis,” Jason added.

Pam was laughing so hard, she had difficulty speaking. “I’d plug the heating pad in so it would be ready,” she replied. Then she calmed down. “Oh boy, I’m usually not so forward. We might never see each other again.”

“I hope that’s not true,” Jason said worriedly. “I really like you. You’re smart, funny, and beautiful. We have a lot in common; we both like to dance, read novels and exercise.”

“Perfect,” she said, with sarcasm. “A marriage made in heaven.”

Jason took her hand, but she pulled away from him. “Am I missing something?”

“My husband liked to do all those things too, and we got along wonderfully. But my marriage was not what I thought it was. I was living a lie.” She didn’t reveal the worst of Jack because it wasn’t necessary, not yet anyway.

When she spoke of Jack, her words gave his actions renewed life. The last thing she wanted was to reignite the terrible facts. Soon, if they continued to see each other, she’d have to tell Jason about AIDS; it was always there, waiting, ready to ruin everything.

A combination of memory and wine plunged Pam into despair. “I’ll get more wine,” she said, standing up, wishing he’d be the one to say it was time to call it a night. She could see history repeating itself, the way she always dealt with the past. Push the new man away and let Jack ruin everything again. Turning back, she stood at the end of the couch and looked down at Jason.

He reached up and took her hand. “Are you okay?”

Taking a deep breath, Pam thought about what the real issues were. He might not want to go further, and it was a risk she was willing to take.

“No, and I want to be honest with you about it. I have AIDS. My husband gave it to me, and I didn’t discover it until he was dead. My health is great as long as I take medication. I keep drinking to a minimum, just special occasions like now. Before we get involved, I felt I owed you an explanation. Of course, having to think about it always makes me feel bad. But I’d like to get to know you better.” She waited for him to respond, aware that he’d stopped looking at her and was staring out to sea, at the black water and dark sky with no moon and a few stars.

Breathing deeply, she started to count. If she made it to ten and he still hadn’t said anything, she’d head to the kitchen. At the count of three, he spoke, pulling her hand so she had to sit next to him with a plop on the couch, making an involuntary laugh escape. He circled her body with his arms and held her tightly. Pam could feel his warm breath on her neck, soft lips kissing her earlobe. His hand rubbed her back in circles. At first, the tension in her body filled her with anxiety.

“I’m so sorry,” he said. “But it doesn’t make any difference to me. We can move on if you want, and you never have to think of it on my behalf again.”

His words worked magic; she could feel her muscles relaxing. The tension had been helping her keep her emotions in check, however, and as it exited, she felt a tear trying to escape as he continued to rub her back.

Memories of being a young girl—trying to keep her family afloat while Nelda remained in a drunken stupor, to playing mother to her three sisters—came to her. Meeting dashing Jack Smith and setting an unconscious goal of using him to make her dreams come true, of a life completely different from the life she knew in Brooklyn, seemed to have happened a million years ago.

Pam thought of Marie when she was a little girl, who’d scream continuously if left at home when Pam went out on a date. Poor Marie, she’d led a horrible life. Not fully realizing it as it happened, Pam slumped against Jason, torturing herself with memories of a life best left unexamined, buried with the dead. Pulling herself together, she gently pulled away from him, sitting up and wiping a tear with her hand.

“Wow, real attractive. Now is where you are supposed to tell me to get over it.”

But Jason shook his head. “Get over what? Disappointment? The pain of betrayal? Nope, I don’t think it works that way.”

She looked at him curiously. “How do you know?”

“I’ve been there,” he said. “I have my boogeymen, too. I don’t know, but something tells me you are your own worst enemy. I bet if I asked your mother, she’d tell me you were a perfectionist as a child.”

Pam laughed, nodding her head. “You don’t have to ask her. I was. Still am. That’s the contradiction. How can someone who led the life I led, and has the battle scars to prove it, call herself a perfectionist?”

“We should go on a camping trip this summer, give you a chance to let your hair down for a couple of days.”

“Like Outward Bound?” Pam asked, laughing out loud. “I don’t think so. I’m ready for new experiences as long as they include a hair dryer and depilatory products.”

They sat with their heads back on the couch, silent. The important skeletons were out in the open. He knew she was tormented by her marriage, had AIDS and a big suitcase of emotional baggage. If that wasn’t enough to prompt him to leave, she didn’t know what was. Now they just needed to get to know each other better if he was able to get beyond those four letters: AIDS. The barriers were down.

“I am so exhausted I don’t think I can keep my head up,” Pam said. “Maybe we better call it a night.”

“Okay, I get it. Can we have breakfast together tomorrow?”

“Of course!” Pam said, standing up. “Call me when you wake up.”

The night was over. Although she’d enjoyed being with Jason, she was ready to be alone. Putting their arms around each other’s waists, she walked with him to the end of the wooden walkway. Someone north had a bonfire on the beach, the wood smoke coming downwind. Looking out over the endless sea, the waves hitting the beach were a familiar sound that had the power to move her.

“I love living here.” She was barely aware she’d spoken out loud until Jason answered.

“I bet. I love
being
here.”

They looked at each other, and Pam knew she was about to be kissed. So much rested on that first kiss. Would his breath be good after drinking wine all night? Would he slobber on her? Always the practical one, Pam steeled herself to be disappointed. However, it was a surprise, the kiss perfect. Imagining lying next to him in her bed after that kiss, she applied the emotional brakes.
Keep your head on
, she thought. The thought persisted. It would be good to have sex again after almost a year since she broke up with creepy Dan.

She missed sex. She missed being important to someone. Time would tell if Jason was
the one
, and she wasn’t getting into bed with him until she was sure. “Jason, I just had an epiphany about us.”

“Let’s have it,” he replied.

“I don’t want to sleep with you unless we are able to make a commitment to each other.”