Soulmates (31 page)

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Authors: Suzanne Jenkins

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BOOK: Soulmates
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“You fix snacks for John,” Natalie said. “How’s that any different?”

“Because for John a pizza and a six pack would be all he needs. This is nice, a ladies' repast.”

“Honestly, I’d rather have a pizza, too,” Natalie replied smiling. Pam put her arms in the air in a position of futility, laughing.

“Well, let’s eat this and if it’s not enough, we’ll head out to Shore Pizza later. I’m feeling a little jittery, wondering what I’m going to discover here.” Natalie brought out the first folder; an accordion-style file box. In each compartment, Ashton organized items relevant for that time.

“Here’s a grouping of things from their junior high years,” she explained, pulling out a large, worn manila envelope. Pam’s heart started pounding when she saw the first object; a class picture of Miss Fredrick’s Eighth Grade Class, 1968, Amsterdam Avenue Junior High School.

“I can’t pick out which one is Ashton, but I know that must be Jack,” Natalie said. “He looks like the pictures I’ve seen.” She carefully handed it over to Pam, aware that emotions were running high. Pam took it and put it on her lap, looking down at it. Young boys and girls, neatly dressed, smiling. One after the other they’d lined up, the shorter children in the front, taller in the back. She spotted Jack immediately; near the center of the group, white shirt and dark tie, perfectly combed hair. She remembered Brent at that age; she practically had to force him into the shower to bathe. Jack was always perfect in that regard. He was so cute, so innocent. Of course, she’s seen pictures of him as a young person before, but not since his death. Tears near the surface, she wanted to feel everything this time, aware that she might discover something about herself, as well.

“Which one’s Ashton?” she asked. Natalie pointed to the shorter boy in the row below Jack, and immediately saw that they were looking at each other. Jack was looking down to the right, and Ashton had his head angled and was looking up to the left. Even for a school picture they couldn’t separate themselves.

“Wow,” Pam said, choking back her tears. “They loved each other.”

“I think so. Ashton said Jack’s old man was raping him by the time he was eight. The abuse was limited to fondling, that sort of horror until the boys could take him without it killing them.

“Oh God,” Pam cried out. “Poor boys.”

“Yes. He said the old lady knew what was happening and that’s why she drank.” Pam shook her head, grabbing Natalie’s hand.

“If we’re going to do this, I want to concentrate on what Ashton and Jack meant to each other. If we keep talking about Harold Smith, I won’t be able to go on. Is that okay with you?”

“Yes, of course, it is,” Natalie said, regretful. “I just remembered everything Ashton said. Let’s move on.” She pulled out more pictures, the soccer team with Harold Smith as a coach, swim team, his Bar Mitzvah.

“This is amazing,” Pam said, picking up the picture of the family in the synagogue. “I’m surprised Harold allowed it.”

“Why’s that?”

“Bernice was Jewish, not Harold. It just seems sort of a contradiction that he’d treat his children horribly and then support this.” She pointed to the picture. Jack was standing next to his little brother, Billy, looking down at him with love, wearing a prayer shawl. Bernice was model pretty, skeletal, wearing Chanel and a hat. The boys had yarmulkes on; it was difficult to see if Harold wore one.

“I wonder why Ashton had this picture. Did Jack give it to him?”

“There’s another in here,” Natalie said, searching. “He was there. Ashton was at any event important to Jack.” The next photo was of the Bar Mitzvah again, but this one was of Ashton and Jack. Ashton was smiling and holding on to the top of his head, most likely keeping his yarmulke in place. He had on dress pants and shirt but no suit. Sunday school clothes.

The next hours revealed more touching memories of Jack and his friends and family. Intrigued with his high school years, Pam loved the photos of the proms and Sadie Hawkins dances which always displayed Jack in the center of a group of admirers, resplendent in his choice of clothing, his dates gorgeous in over the top evening gowns.

Then the college years, some pictures of Jack and Pam standing side by side, Jack clearly smitten with her, Pam oblivious to her surroundings. More formal dress photos of events Pam didn’t remember.

“This is the Jack I know,” she said. “He loved dressing up. I bet he went to a formal event every week in the city. I hated going so Marie would be his date. At least to the functions I knew about. He may have taken other women for all I know. I guess I could ask Sandra.”

“Wait,” Natalie said. “I have another box of items I wasn’t sure you’d want to see, fancy balls and all kinds of weird dress up events, even costume parties. He’s with other women in some of them. It might be innocent for all we know,
he was standing next to so and so when the camera shutter opened.

“Get them out,” Pam said. “My curiosity it roused. I have no negative feelings either, no anger or sadness. It’s like our life really never happened and I’m just discovering him now. I never knew the real Jack. I thought that by sorting through his history with Ashton, I might learn who he was but now he’s more a stranger to me than ever. It might be good for me to be so detached if he’s finally gone for good. I can be done grieving for him once and for all.” Natalie reached over to hug Pam and they held each other for a moment.

After she had leafed through the photos of Jack with other women, a few celebrities but mostly women she didn’t know, it was like looking at the issue of People or a fashion magazine. The nightly forays Pam took into their past, talking with his memory and laughing over old jokes between them, or crying because the loneliness was palpable were over. John was authentic, down to earth and unpretentious and being with him slowly eradicated the few boogeymen Jack left behind.

Jack might finally be gone.

 

Chapter 27

Dreaming of gardens and small children, a ringing bell in the distance reached out to Pam and brought her closer to consciousness. She sat up in bed with a start and grabbed the phone and her glasses at the same time.

“Mom, I’m sorry I’m calling so early.” Pam fumbled with the clock to see it was just past six.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, frightened.

“Miranda is sick again. She had a high fever and had another convulsion, so we called the squad and I’m waiting in the ER. I thought you should know. Can you come? You or noni? I’m afraid this time, Mom. Something’s not right.”

“I’ll be there as soon as I get dressed,” she said before saying goodbye. “Poor little Miranda,” she kept repeating as she dressed. Turning back to her nightstand, she dialed Tom’s number.

“I am so sorry I’m calling so early.”

“Is it Miranda?” Tom asked.

“How’d you know?”

“You won’t believe this but I had a dream about her. Is she in the hospital again?” Pam gave him details and he said he’d get there as soon as possible.

Having a sick child put everything quickly into perspective for Pam. Worries about things past lost its power. Some of the people who hurt her were dead. She only had to think about Jack when Lisa or Bernice needed to talk about him, and that she allowed. But the fantasies she’d entertained in the near past, when they came to her again, she dusted her hands off and said
be gone. Except for Miranda.

Arriving at the hospital, she found Lisa waiting for her in the ER lobby. Lisa rushed to her. “Mom, Mom I’m so worried. There’s something not right about her. I’ve seen it coming in the past month. She’s so skinny and she’s tired all the time. We had her to the doctor, but they said she’s fine.

“Okay, well she’s here now and they’ll find out what’s going on once and for all.” They looked up as a young Asian doctor approached them. Pam recognized her from the last admission. She looked grim and Lisa and Pam grabbed each other’s hands.

“Can I speak freely here?” she asked Lisa, looking at Pam.

“Yes, I’m sorry. This is my mother.”

“So you’re her grandmother?”

“No, not really, although she calls me grannie. I’m her mother’s sister, so technically I’m her aunt.” It made Pam nervous that the doctor didn’t seem to follow what she was being told.

“And you have legal custody of her,” she said to Lisa.

“Yes,” Lisa answered. “My grandmother gave me custody of my cousin after my aunt died.” They saw no reason at that juncture to bring Sandra’s name into the mix, although that would come later. The doctor nodded her head, thinking.

“I want to make sure who I’m talking to because of the nature of your niece’s condition.” Lisa didn’t correct her, anxiety level increased exponentially.

“What’s wrong with her?”
Spit it out, goddamnit
.

“She has AIDS.” Pam felt the floor move, grasping onto a chair to steady herself.

“How’s that possible?” Lisa asked, close to hysteria, looking at Pam. She knew her mother had AIDS. How did Miranda get it, too?

“There are three ways she could have contracted it. She was born with it and its replicating now, she received tainted blood, or she was sexually abused by someone with AIDS.” Lisa gasped in horror, ready to scream at the doctor when Pam grabbed her arm.

“Lisa, be quiet for a minute.” She directed her comments to the doctor, trying to block out Lisa’s gasps. “Miranda’s mother had AIDS. Her brain infection was AIDS-related, opportunistic. Miranda didn’t test positive for it at birth, so this is a shock.”

“Yes, well the new information is that children don’t always test positive right away. Has she been tested since?”

“Not to my knowledge,” Pam said. She’d ask Tom as soon as possible.

“If she’d been tested and found to be HIV positive and given the correct drugs, she wouldn’t be so sick.” They could see the doctor struggling not to judge them, their stupidity in not having follow-up blood work done on a child with a known AIDS exposure was next to criminal. Pam was fighting to stay calm, near tears, holding Lisa close to her.

“As you know, she was just here last June. Wasn’t blood work done at that time?” Pam asked.

“We don’t routinely test for AIDS unless we have a reason to. If I’d known her mother had it, I would have tested.”

“So what will happen now?” Pam asked, ignoring the doctor’s implication.

“We’re hydrating her, waiting for the internist to talk to a pediatric AIDS specialist at Mt. Sinai and we’ll start with the drugs he prescribes. Finding out what’s causing her current problems will take time. The seizure was from brain irritation with an unknown source.” Pam reeled; the vision of how horrible it was for Marie going through her mind. “She’d need a spinal tap and a CAT Scan and then we should have some answers. Lisa swooned at the term spinal tap.

“Will she have to be put to sleep for that?” she cried. “It sounds so painful.”

“They’ll put numbing medicine in the area, and since she’s unconscious, any stimulation will be good for her.” Pam wasn’t sure about that but didn’t say anything. The doctor was finishing up when Pam spotted Tom at the reception area.

“Tom!” she called, ignoring the doctor’s look. “Thank God you’re here.” She ran to him and they embraced. Tom came back to the doctor with her. He put his hand out to shake.

“Detective Adams, NYPD. You are?”

“Dr. Tang. Why is NYPD involved with this?” she asked, hostilely.

“I used to be her custodial parent,” he answered. The doctor backed down, trying to conceal her confusion.

“Tom, do you know if Miranda had any AIDS testing after her initial negative test?” He frowned, wondering why they’d ask.

“Her pediatrician didn’t feel it was necessary,” he answered. “At least that’s what I was told.” Tom sought Pam’s eyes, but she purposely looked the other way. Was he suggesting Sandra may have kept something from him?

“What’s the name of the doctor?” Dr. Tang asked. Tom told her and she left.

“What’s going on?” he asked, although he thought, sickeningly, that he knew. “Does she have HIV?” Lisa shook her head and started to weep.

“She’s got AIDS. How is it that you both had it, mother?” Pam finally looked over at Tom.

“Tom, you walked into my drama, yet again,” she said sadly.

“That’s okay. You two go hash it out; I’ll stay here for Miranda.” Pam was so grateful to him. She stood on her toes and kissed his cheek.

“Lisa, let’s walk outside so I can talk to you about it, okay?” Lisa was resisting.

“I’m worried about leaving her.” Tom held up his phone.

“I’ll call you if they have any news,” he promised. They left the building together and started walking around the dirty courtyard, smelling of cigarette ash and parched earth.

“Okay, I need some facts. How’d Marie get AIDS, too? I can’t believe how stupid I am that I didn’t suspect it right away.”

“There was no reason for you to,” Pam said. Deciding honesty was the best way to handle it, she just came out and said it. “Daddy and Marie were in love. He gave her AIDS as he did me.” Lisa looked incredulous, all the concerns she had as a child, being jealous of her aunt and the attention her father gave Marie had grounds after all.

“When did you find out?” Lisa examined her mother’s face, wondering how she managed to keep such a serene expression at the worst times. It was almost insulting. Here,
her
life was tossed upside down and Pam was as calm as a Madonna.

“Lisa, I understand your need to know, but this is my personal business. What difference will it make? Would you have refused to take her if you knew there was a possibility that she had AIDS?”

“Yes, I may have!” Lisa yelled. “I have three other kids who she’s played with and bathed with and shared popsicles with. I had the right to know.”

“I am truly sorry,” Pam replied. “Miranda got a clean bill of health at birth and I had little to do with her until Sandra and Tom broke up last year. Evidently, Tom didn’t even know what was going on and he was her parent.”

“I wonder if Sandra knew all along,” Lisa said, sickened. “Knew it and kept it a secret for some revolting reason.” Pam saw the Pandora’s Box getting closer and closer to being opened. How much honesty did she owe Lisa? Making a split second decision again, she decided she was only offering information when Lisa asked it for by name. If it didn’t come up, Pam wasn’t talking.

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