Prayers for the Dying (Pam of Babylon Book Four) (9 page)

“Oh, honey! I’m so happy for you! This is just wonderful news. Are you okay? I mean, why did you faint? How far along are you?” Pam asked, wishing she was there with her sister. Pam could hear Marie blowing her nose, and then she spoke again.

“Thank you Pam, thank you so much. I need you so badly right now. I am so worried about the baby! How can I only know about it for this short amount of time and already love it?” She blew her nose again.

“How far along are you?” she asked again. “There’s no reason to be worried. Everything will be fine!” Pam was off in her own world, thinking about the baby things that she would buy, the love she would lavish on this new little life. And then Marie came back and destroyed it for her.

“No, everything will not be fine! I have AIDS, remember? And I am sick. Sicker than I thought. I’m just three months along. I haven’t had a period in so long, who knew I could even get pregnant.” But Pam was back at
I have AIDS
.
Oh, my God. Oh, my God.
Pam had forgotten. She had completely forgotten about everything for about twenty seconds. Heat flooded through her body and bile rose in her throat. She didn’t know what to say, wanting to validate her sister’s fear, but not wanting to be negative. Someone had to be positive about her health.

“What can I do for you right now?” Pam asked once she had caught her breath, deciding that immediate needs were better met than anything long range.

“Can I come there?” Marie asked without hesitation. “I obviously can’t work anymore and I miss my room at the beach.”

Pam felt a quick mix of emotions; terror that Marie would die, a thrill that her sister would be there, soon with a new baby, but resigned that her privacy with Dave would be usurped.

“I know you aren’t thrilled with Steve,” Marie continued. “But he’s so regretful about everything that happened, I hope you will forgive him, too. He has been so wonderful to me. This is his first baby. Imagine! A forty-five-year-old mother and a sixty-something father.” Marie started to cry again. “Oh, Pam, I am so sorry about everything. I am scared that karma is going to come and pay me back now.”

Pam decided she was going to play the positive role. “I’m not going to listen to any negative talk from you, sister! We have to think positively!” She wondered why Marie was sick, if she had something opportunistic from the AIDS or if it was just her poor nutritional status that was at fault. But she didn’t want to start the conversation about it now. “When are you getting out of there?” she asked.

“Soon, I hope. They took my IV out and I’m waiting for the doctor to come in and discharge me. There’s nothing they can do about the other stuff on a weekend and I don’t want to lie around here waiting for Monday to come. So what do you think? Can I come to the beach?” Marie asked.

Pam had forgotten to answer her, but of course, the answer would be yes. They would work out the details later. Marie said she would call Pam back as soon as they were told what time she would be discharged. Pam hung up the phone, a combination of disbelief and excitement filling her brain. She thought of her mother.
Oh hell
. But then she decided that it was Marie’s decision when to tell her. As long as Nelda lived in town at the Smith mansion where she stayed with Bernice, she wouldn’t need to know much. It would be better this way. But Pam was determined to let Marie lead the way.

If Marie’s here for Thanksgiving
, she thought,
the children might find out she has AIDS
. She sat down at the counter, the excitement about the new baby overshadowed by what was yet to be revealed. As difficult as it seemed at that moment, she realized that honesty and truth would be the best thing in the end, no matter how awkward. Hopefully, her kids wouldn’t get angry and storm out of the house. They had taken the news of her own diagnosis so well that she almost thought they might either be in shock or denial.

A cup of coffee and a long contemplation at the window in the den was called for. The snow had stopped, but the wind and the waves were brutal. It would be a rough day out at sea. As she gazed out at the panorama, Pam wondered how her family had gotten to this place. Jack was gone, so much pain and deceit exposed, and now, finally, this happy event. A baby, not conceived under the best of circumstances, but wanted by his parents. It was a symbol of something good to come. It might mean an end to the awfulness of the past six months. The baby meant hope. Then she came back to AIDS. That lingering horror, something catastrophic lurking right under the surface, AIDS was something the entire family was forced to acknowledge. The last vestige of Jack. She knew she still had issues to deal with because of Jack. That she could allow herself access to an intimate relationship so soon after his death was enough of an indication that he was worth getting over quickly. But it didn’t negate the damage that had been done to her spirit. She was still angry at him, and at his mistresses who had been bold enough to show their faces at the beach.
Where did they get off?
Marie was right there with the rest of them, but she had to be forgiven, mostly because she had asked for forgiveness. None of the others had, if Pam remembered correctly.
Had they
?
Did it make any difference? Couldn’t she just keep going forward without spending time worrying about the others?
She was going to have to think about this for a while. For now the baby would be the focus, as Sandra’s had been when Jack’s death and absence were overwhelming. Pam smiled to herself thinking about how asinine she had been to make an icon out of Jack’s unborn baby, and how rapidly things had changed once the baby died. She raised her eyes to the ceiling.
Please don’t let that happen to Marie’s baby, God.
Marie had said she was three months pregnant. That would make her due in the spring. They had six months to plan for its arrival, six months to hide her pregnancy from Nelda. It was panacea for Pam’s pain and anger.

Marie’s doctor came in and told her that although he was letting her go home, she needed to see a neurologist on Monday. They made an appointment for her and the doctor gave her a piece of paper with the name of the doctor, his address, and the time she needed to be there. He looked at Steve to emphasize the importance of keeping the appointment.

“Mr. Marks, its imperative that Marie see Dr. Garpow,” and then to both Marie and Steve, he dropped the bomb. “Marie, your CD4 count is below one hundred. You are vulnerable to so many infections right now that we are concerned for you being exposed to the general public. It also puts your baby at risk.” He paused for a second, giving Marie enough time to ask why she needed to see a neurologist. The doctor coughed, clearly uncomfortable. “Your eyes didn’t respond to light as they should and that is a sign of a possible neurological problem. Please, keep your appointment on Monday.” He shook their hands and quickly left the room. Marie and Steve didn’t say anything for a few moments. The nurse came in with Marie’s discharge papers.

“You can go whenever you are ready, Marie.” She pulled a small bag out of her pocket, and out of the bag, pulled a mask, handing it to Marie. “Dear, you should wear this when you are out in public. The doctor told you how low your lymphocyte count is, correct? You need to protect yourself. Hand washing is very important. No raw fish or salad bars. If you have a cat, don’t go near the cat box. If you have any questions, just ask, okay? I’ll get answers for you.” She showed Marie how to put the mask on, making sure it covered her nose and mouth. “Stay in if you can.”

“I’m leaving the city now and going to Babylon,” Marie told her. “Right on the ocean.”

“That’s a great place! The wind will blow all the germs away.” She said good-bye and left the room.

Marie got ready to leave the hospital. She placed her hands over her belly and said a silent prayer.
Please God, protect our baby. Don’t let it suffer on my account! I’ll do anything it takes to allow the baby to live.
Steve was watching her out of the corner of his eye, worried about his new family but powerless to protect them. He’d get her to her sister’s house that afternoon, but besides taking her to her doctor appointments and supporting her as best he could, there was nothing else he could do. He suddenly thought of the dive bar he had followed her to the second day after they met, and wished he was there alone now, drinking himself into a stupor.

.

10

A
shton had worked out a rigid schedule for himself that Jack knew nothing about. He got up very early every morning and spent an hour working out. Then he cleaned his apartment, showered and dressed, and by nine got down to work. He made his calls, set up appointments for the afternoon, did any design planning he needed to do, and tied things up by one. At one sharp, if he hadn’t heard from Jack, he’d begin his vigil at the window. Unless he heard otherwise, Jack would pop in sometime between one and one thirty and stay until two. Rarely, he would take the afternoon off so the two of them could go out and do something fun. Since the wedding, Jack wouldn’t go out in public with Ash unless it was on the Upper East Side. Anything south of Seventy-Second Street was too risky. If he didn’t arrive by one thirty, he probably wasn’t coming and Ashton would get ready to go to his appointments. Jack would call during the afternoon, so it wasn’t a total waste. After five or ten years, Ashton was used to it, not minding any longer when there was a change in the schedule and Jack couldn’t make it. He never got used to not seeing Jack on the weekends, but in contrast, it was a relief that he didn’t have to wait around for him. Ash had a social life of sorts and even went out on the occasional date, but of course, no one could measure up. Jack had ruined everyone else for him.

Before resignation set in, early in Jack’s marriage on the weekends before he moved his family to the beach, Ashton would sometimes go to the west side of town and hide out in one of the local coffee shops, hoping to catch a glimpse of Jack. Occasionally, it would pay off. Once, he saw Jack and the beautiful Pam and her kid sister walking three abreast, pushing a stroller with a hitchhiker seat for the older child to sit in; a boy. The striking couple and their lovely children took Ashton’s breath away and he started to cry. He spied a few more times and seeing the happy family, decided he’d had enough. No more torture.
If the bastard doesn’t want me I’ll make myself go find someone who does.
He waited until Jack’s next midday visit that week. When he opened the door for Jack, it was with swollen red eyes and tears of anger. It was clear Ashton was upset.

“What did I do now?” Jack asked as he walked into the apartment. He was concerned, but took a passive stance. Ashton was never afraid to tell Jack what was bothering him.

“I can’t go on like this,” Ashton said angrily. “You’re using me, Jack! If we were going to keep having a life together, experiencing things, planning, I could do it. I could wait for you day after day. But this booty call thing sucks!” He sat at the dining table and resumed crying, hiccupping sobs. Jack was appalled, but he withheld comment. His wife had never, ever made a scene like Ashton was doing. Obviously, he had come to the end of his rope. Jack wished he had called and cancelled, instead.

“Okay, I understand. Of course, you’re right. But I can’t offer you anything else.” He turned to walk back to the door and Ashton didn’t get up to see him out. He didn’t want to get shrill, to start crying and yelling, but it wasn’t working to will himself to let Jack have the last word. Almost against his will, Ashton leapt up out of the chair.

“You said our life together wouldn’t change that much! Those were your exact words! You promised me that we would still be together. Now you’ve added more people into the mix. It might work if it were just Pam and I, but there’s Maryanne, too,” he said, mentioning Jack’s latest mistress, a women older than he was with a mentally retarded daughter. “What the hell is that all about, anyway?” He had to stop to blow his nose, he was sputtering and blowing snot all over with the yelling, and Jack was looking at him with pity, almost disgust.

“Ashton, don’t go there. They have nothing to do with you and me.” His hand was on the doorknob. Jack knew that if he turned the handle and walked out at that moment, that it would validate what Ashton had said. He was using him. But he was using everyone in his life. It’s what Jack did. He had a huge hole in his chest and he got what he needed to fill it up from what different people had to offer him. Although Ashton was sucking the life out of him, he needed him, too. He gathered up a little extra tolerance, and stepping away from the door, took his hand off the knob and tried to rearrange his facial expression into one that showed some compassion.

“I’m sorry. Please forgive me for upsetting you. I’ll try to be more attentive, okay? Will that help?” He took a deep breath. It was often easier than he imagined to give in and let people hear what they needed from him. It didn’t cost him much but a little control. He would let Ashton think he was having his way, but in reality, Jack would continue doing exactly what he wanted. Evidently, he had failed in some way with Ashton. That his friend was under the impression that he could get away with this behavior and still have a relationship with Jack proved that Jack needed to gain some respect from him. When Ashton didn’t answer Jack, he turned to the door again. “Give me a call when you pull yourself together,” he said with a hint of sarcasm in his voice. He opened the door and walked out. He’d stay away for a few days, maybe a week, and Ashton would either call begging for forgiveness, or if Jack really needed to see him, he’d call first and pretend nothing had happened.