Pam of Babylon (25 page)

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 now 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.

“Good evening, Mother!” Marie said. Nelda bent down and kissed her. She smelled of soap and water. At least she was bathing.

“Mom, this is Sandra Benson. She holds an important position at Jack’s company.”

Sandra stood up and reached over the table to grab Nelda’s hand.

“Nice to meet you!”

If things could just stay pleasant, or otherwise superficial, like this, Pam would be happy—no in-depth conversations, no psycho dramas. She noticed her mother’s concern at Marie’s appearance. She would take her aside later and tell her that she had been eating pretty much nonstop for the past twenty-four hours. Maybe she has just been lonely, or reverting from anorexia to a binge-purge cycle.

The evening went well, although Nelda wasn’t herself. Later, Pam used the expression “bright” to describe the way her mother looked. Her eyes were glazed over, and she was smiling inappropriately.

Pam whispered to her sister, “Maybe she’s been drinking.”

Marie ended up asking her mother to stay; she offered to drive her home in the morning. She had a drawer in Marie’s room with clean pajamas and underwear, and there was nothing pressing for her to get back to Brooklyn.

The next morning, Sandra came down with her suitcase. She was going to leave, too. She had a long train ride home and wanted to prepare for the week. Pam offered to drive her to the train station, but Marie had already said she could drop her off. They stayed for coffee and croissants and then left together. Pam felt the anxiety building. She thought she might be nervous about being left, but then realized she wanted them to move on. She wanted to be alone again.

29

T
he three women left the house together, cordiality swirling around them. The scene was so bizarre, even innocent Pam was in disbelief. She walked them out to Marie’s car and stood at the curb waving goodbye as they pulled away. The moment she was alone, she started thinking of what she could do next. She had a list of things that needed to be done that week. She was going to take Marie’s room and make it into a nursery. She was thinking that Sandra would enlist her aid in childcare from time to time. Of course, before she did anything permanent, she would ask her. Then she was going to move Marie upstairs. The rooms had great views up there and private bathrooms. It would be enough to keep her busy for a while.