Don't Tell Daddy (21 page)

“The same thing,” Pamela acknowledged. “I was wrong, Madre. I know I was wrong.”

“You weren’t wrong alone. All I can say is that I do, and I will always, love you Pamela. You’ll never stop being my baby, no matter what you do. My love is the next most powerful to God and He’s who you need to talk to.”

Pamela nodded. Carmella leaned down and kissed Pamela’s forehead. She left the room as Bryan entered it with Pamela’s smoothie. “I need to talk to you Bryan,” she said, and he made sure Pamela was okay with the smoothie before he followed Carmella.

They sat on the sofa on opposite ends, and Carmella just stared at him a long time. Her gray eyes bored into him, her face impassive as she studied the man she had called a friend for thirty-six years. The man she had known before her husband was a thought in her mind, before Heather existed in either of their worlds. The man who had been her best friend for years before either of their spouses had come into the picture.

“You held that little girl as an infant. Watched her grow up. Helped her grow up. Called her your daughter for years on end. So what changed? Your wife got a little older, and Pamela got a little curvy, and that slipped your mind, didn’t it? I’d like to really cut your dick off and force feed it to you; but everything intended for you, you’ll receive. I’m having a hard time even taking this disgusting shit in. You’re more than twice her age. She’s barely even a woman, Bryan. If Jonta was with Jada in any type of way, where would that put you? If you had put your trust in the wrong man’s hands? We trusted you, Bryan. Your wife trusted you. I won’t swear that Pamela didn’t know better, because she did. You’re both wrong; but her family isn’t the one being torn apart. She is not the one facing divorce. That girl has her whole life ahead of her. You took advantage of her crush… Now my daughter thinks she loves you. She thinks you love her; and I feel bad for my poor, oblivious, young,
child
because when she falls out the clouds, she’s going to bust her ass; and what are you going to do, Bryan? Marry her?”

“If she wants it. What can I say to you, Carmella? Anything I do will just be bullshit to your ears.”

“You’re damn skippy.”

“So I won’t waste my breath on it. All I can say is that I did fuck up. I betrayed a lot of trust. My heart would bleed if I was in Jonta’s shoes. Jada is eighteen now, though, and I wouldn’t be able to control what she does. Would I want to kill him? No doubt. I can’t blame him.”

“My first grandchild has a father older than I am. Ain’t that some shit.” Carmella shook her head. “I knew Pamela had a crush on you. I knew it for a few years; and if you had left her alone, it would go away and she could have been with a nice, young man. Someone with something in common with her. In twenty years, when you’re in your late sixties, retired, and living your old life, what are you going to do with a not forty-yet woman? How will your child explain to people its mother is thirty-eight and its father is sixty-eight? How will it explain that its sister is also thirty-eight? His maternal grandmother is sixty-six and his grandfather its father age? And his paternal grandparents? Forget about it. Geriatric, if not dead. That shit sounds pleasant,” she said, shaking her head.

Carmella wasn’t sure how she’d gone this long without crying for her poor child. As she spoke to this man now and looked at his face, she could feel her eyes stinging for what her daughter was losing out on behind this man. The youth that was slipping through her fingers to explore and be.

“Jonta and I really had our hearts set on seeing Pamela with Jordan. A nice kid. You know he is. So much better for her than you could ever be. What can you honestly do with Pamela? She’s thirty years your junior. You ain’t Hugh Hefner.”

“Carmella, what more can I say but that I am sorry and I fucked up? What I did, it was foul. But what can I do now but face the consequences of my actions? I can’t make Heather stay if she can never trust me again. I won’t hold her back. Do I love my wife? Enough to let her go. I got Pamela pregnant. It was stupid on my part; but I’m going to handle what needs to be handled.”

“She’s still a child, Bryan. That’s the worst part. She hasn’t fully discovered her womanhood. She hasn’t lived her life. She hasn’t done enough stupid shit. You’re her only and biggest mistake.”

With that, Carmella got up and let herself out of the house, swiping away tears. Bryan stayed on the sofa and dwelled on that.
Her only and biggest mistake
.

                                         
Life Now

Bryan went to work without Pamela for a week and a half until she felt better to come. She was nauseated a lot though. When they were in the office, she spent a lot of time in the bathroom. Bryan eventually started to just keep ginger on him, but Pamela had a hard time with eating the ginger, so he started giving her ginger ale. That helped a bit usually. Pamela accompanied him to meetings, trying to keep her symptoms under control.

When Marc came into the office from Brazil a week later, he smiled seductively at Pamela. She rolled her eyes. “You have nothing to hold over us, asshole. Everyone knows. So take your non-fucking ass on somewhere and learn how to lay it down. You ain’t putting that thing in me.”

Bryan had come in from getting himself a coffee and Pamela chocolate milk because she couldn’t drink her “pretty coffee” while she carried his child. The doctor told them it was okay to a certain extent, but he wasn’t having it at all.

“Hi, Marc,” he said coolly, giving the little cup to Pamela. “How was Brazil?”

“Hot.”

“That’s nice. Did you want something, son?”

“He just came to blackmail something else outta you,” Pamela informed him, rolling her eyes, flipping through her magazine. “But everyone knows already. So make him leave.”

Just looking at Marc was making her sick. His cologne was doing nothing to help, causing her stomach to turn over. She just wanted him to leave.

“She’s right,” Bryan informed him.

“Ruined all my fun.”

Marc left, and Pamela continued flipping through her magazine until she had to take a call. Now that she and Bryan lived together, she didn’t really expect a paycheck, but he still gave her one. He told her he wanted her to have her own money.

The only two people in the world who Pamela was sure didn’t hate her were Carmella and Lila, and even Carmella had been angry at her daughter. But she was still her daughter, and she didn’t shut her out. Of course, it was hard for her to look Heather in the eyes and know the part her daughter had in the demise of her marriage.

Lila tried to keep a friendship with both of her best friends, and Jada didn’t make her pick sides. It wasn’t fair to Lila. She did, however, refuse to speak to Pamela. She might beat her down again if she did so.

Pamela had once thought she might get up the nerve to go and try to speak to Heather woman-to-woman, but several fears held her back. She didn’t want to be beat up again, she didn’t want to have to look in the face of the godmother whose husband she’d taken, and she didn’t want to have to admit that she had actually done something that repugnant.

*** ***

Pamela woke up and sprinted into the bathroom while Bryan showered, sliding in her socks over the toilet and using it to stop herself, falling to her knees before expelling her stomach fluids into the bowl. “Pamela—”

Bryan could hear her heaving and he got out of the shower to try to help her, holding her hair away from her face and rubbing her back.

She got up and rinsed her mouth before she brushed her teeth and put a cold, wet cloth over her head.

“Pamela—”

“Leave me alone,” she groaned and went to lie back down, motioning for him to return to his shower.

When Bryan got out of the shower, he looked down at his lover, formerly known as his goddaughter. He stroked her cheek, and she moved his hand away. “I just want to sleep,” she said. “Please go away.”

“Do you want me to make you breakfast?”

“No.”

She turned her back on him and he went into the front room, getting the message.

As she stared at her wall, she heard a knock at her door. “Hey, Mr. Valdez,” she heard Lila. “Is Pamela here?”

“Yeah.”

Soon, Lila was sitting there beside her, leaning over to rub her friend’s arm. “Mela, are you okay, sweetie?”

“I hate being pregnant. All I do is eat, sleep, puke, cry, repeat,” she whined, holding her pillow. “I lost seven pounds.”

“It’ll get better.”

“My baby will have a sister eighteen years older than it.”

“Happens all the time.”

“And a mother the same age.”

Lila said nothing to that one. She just rubbed Pamela’s arm. “All you need to worry about is being the best mother you can be for this baby. Nothing else matters. Jada. Mrs. Valdez. Mr. Torres. Not even Mr. Valdez. Worry about what Pamela is going to do for her unborn.”

“You’re not in this situation. Everyone doesn’t hate you.”

“Everyone doesn’t hate you either. I’m right here, am I not?”

Pamela just broke down crying, she was so disappointed and so very disgusted with herself. She was carrying the child of an affair. This poor baby’s sister probably would even hate it.

Lila sat there with her friend, holding her and letting her cry. She did eventually need to get to work though. She promised that she would be by later if her girl needed a shoulder.

Bryan brought Pamela a glass of water and a croissant around noon. “You have to try and eat something,” he encouraged.

“I can’t.”

“Please try, baby. For me.”

She managed a few nibbles and a swallow before she set it aside and decided to wallow in her self-loathing. She wondered if this depression would ever, could ever, should ever go away. Or if she deserved it for the rest of her life. Was this her cross to bear?

She knew one more person who didn’t hate her, and she hoped that she could hear his voice, maybe get to see him. So she picked her phone up, and she called Jordan, finally.

“Hey, Pamela,” he greeted, sounding as if he was pleased to hear from her.

“I’ll meet you,” she offered up.

“You don’t want me to pick you up?” he asked, confused.

“No. I’ll meet you. My boyfriend lives with me.”

“Not giving up on this imaginary boyfriend of yours, huh?”

“Baby—”  Bryan called.

“Wow. Okay,” Jordan mumbled. “Meet me then, Pamela,” he agreed.

They hung up just when Bryan came into the room. Pamela glanced at him, casually putting her phone on the nightstand. 

“Jada’s got a robotics thing—”

“I’ll go.”

She was sure in the long run, her friend would see how sorry she was and see the effort she was making. She wasn’t going to miss an opportunity to show her support; so she quickly showered and threw on a pair of denim shorts and a t-shirt before they left.

The couple arrived, holding hands because they had nothing more to hide, and Heather looked away when she saw the two. When Jada saw Pamela, she nearly pounced on her. Heather’s arms around her torso stopped her, bringing her daughter close to her body. “Violence will solve nothing for us,” she objected, holding Jada back. “They made their decision to be together. What is due to them will come in time.”

Pamela let go of Bryan’s hand and stepped up to Heather. “Madrina—”

“You have some nerve to call me your madrina anymore, little girl.”

“I am really and very truly sorry. I never wanted to hurt you. Or Jada. Or anyone. I did something out of stupidity and lust… and maybe not today, but I hope someday, you can find it in your heart to forgive me.”

“I’ve forgiven you, Pamela. It just doesn’t restore my once affections for you.”

Pamela nodded her understanding and Jada bumped her on her way past and looked up at her father. “Why did you even bother?”

“You’re still my little girl, Jae. I still love you. That’s never going to change. I’m still going to support your dreams.”

Jada said nothing. She just left her father and her former best friend there, swiping tears of hurt out her face. Her mother didn’t cry about it, but Jada was torn up inside over her broken family. Over the girl she considered her sister sleeping with her father. What had gone so wrong?

When Jonta saw Bryan there, holding hands with his daughter, he closed his eyes, held the bridge of his nose, and took a deep breath, refusing to acknowledge either one of them. “Daddy—”

“I don’t know you,” he told Pamela.

She felt tears in her eyes, and she let go of Bryan’s hand to go and talk to her father. She grabbed his arm. “Daddy, it’s me,” she said desperately, looking into his hazel eyes.

“No, it’s not you, Pamela. The Pamela I knew respected herself. Enough not to fuck a married man. Especially one married to a woman she proclaimed to loving. I don’t know you, little girl.”

Jonta snatched his hand back and Pamela reached for him again. She was not going to give up that easily. All she wanted was to know her daddy still loved her.

“Daddy—”

“Pamela, back up before you’re backhanded.”

“But I’m your only daughter.”