Dream Lover (13 page)
Pam was trying to keep it together, but hearing that Jack had had a long-term relationship with someone, and she never, ever came across any evidence of it, was yet another reason that self-examination at this juncture of life was crucial. She decided she had nothing to lose by admitting shock. It might even validate the woman somehow. “Well, there you go! Just when I didn’t think he could do anything more to hurt me, bingo! I’m totally surprised.”
Maryanne felt terrible again and sniffed back the tears. “I’m sorry, okay? I used bad judgment, and was selfish, and honestly, stupid. I want to tell you the negative crap, too, but don’t want to hurt you anymore, if that’s possible.”
Pam told her to go on.
“He ate breakfast every morning where I worked.” Maryanne told the whole story to Pam.
Finally, Pam asked, nervously, “Did my mother-in-law know about the two of you?”
“No, never. I wasn’t allowed to speak to him when they were in the restaurant together.” She was drained. She hoped that Pam would ask questions. Giving a lengthy talk about Jack was taking its toll. She didn’t say anything else.
“Did you love each other?” Pam was looking intently at her, but with kindness again.
“I loved him, and he loved Katherine, but I don’t think Jack loved me. He felt sorry for me. He came to my house way up in Washington Heights every week to see Katherine. Very rarely—and I think this was purely for my benefit—he would wait and come at night. When I say rarely, I mean a few times a year. He was never that interested in it, if I can say that frankly.”
Pam thought for a while of the impact of what she had just heard. Jack had driven from his office downtown all the way up to Washington Heights. That was at least a half-hour ride, but in rush hour, maybe longer. She felt so sad for her children. They were competing for his affection as much as she was. And no one was aware of it.
“Tell me about your daughter,” Pam said. She wanted to try to understand what was so compelling about this child that would pull Jack in. “You said she had a birth defect.”
“It’s a genetic defect. Her face was affected. I hate to say deformed. Her eyes are so far apart that they don’t work in unison. She had a bilateral cleft palate. Jack saw her after the surgeries to correct the cleft palates, but she still had to have several more. He was there for her, paid most of her expenses so that she would have a private nurse while I went to work.”
As Maryanne continued with the story of Jack’s goodness to them, Pam floated back and forth between disgust and compassion. It wasn’t the little girl’s fault that that schmuck had been drawn to her. Pam had fear in the back of her brain that the child had been molested, too, but she didn’t voice it. If nothing had been said or noticed, then that was good enough for her.
Besides her coworker, Evelyn from Gwen’s, no other woman knew the whole Jack story that Maryanne was unloading on his widow. Once she started talking about it, she couldn’t stop.
Pam felt herself slipping into despair again, but she was able to pull out of it each time the feeling came over her.
Where in the hell was I when he was sitting in the child’s hospital room? Or driving an hour up north to see her instead of coming east? What was so appealing about a deformed child and her mother when he had two toddlers and a wife at home waiting for him? She tried to do the math; had they even moved to Babylon yet? Was he doing this when his family still lived in the city? No, it couldn’t be. Could it?
Pam had wanted to do a timeline of Jack’s escapades at one time; she wanted to print out a giant calendar that covered all the years of their marriage and fill in the boxes with the names of the women he had fucked at the appropriate times. But she didn’t do it because it would mean spending too much time on worthless information.
Pam looked at Maryanne closely while she was talking, and Pam’s heart went out to her. She was so thin; Pam could tell she must have stopped eating. Her gray roots were inches long; Pam guessed she had stopped coloring her hair when Jack died. She found herself wondering how she’d found out about his death. Did she read it in the paper the way Melissa had? Or Cindy, about whom Pam knew very little, who’d searched the internet obituaries when Jack disappeared? She found the courage to ask and was saddened to find out that Maryanne’s boss had cut the obituary out for her; she hadn’t read the obituaries since her own husband had died twenty-two years earlier.
“I’m sorry about you losing your husband. You have suffered many losses,” Pam said.
What else could I say? Losing your husband didn’t give you the right to mess with mine?
But Maryanne was just a drop in the bucket of Jack’s messes, just one of many women. “So what can I do for you, Maryanne?”
“Do you really want to help me?” Maryanne asked, making eye contact with Pam for the first time in a while, having recited her story while looking out to sea. She sat at Jack’s table, but had trouble placing him there. Did he like the beach house? He rarely had spoken of his life. Maryanne believed that he was trying to prevent her from knowing enough to be able to infiltrate his personal space. The danger that he might forget where he was and whom he was talking to would increase if he allowed that to happen. His secretiveness wasn’t only so that the women wouldn’t be able to find him.
Pam nodded. Yes, she did want to help. “I’ll do whatever it is you need to move forward.” She was prepared to do anything at this point. Jack would have wanted her to, although what he wanted was becoming less and less important.
“I need money, first of all. I lost my job when Gwen’s went out of business last month. I’d like to stay in touch with you, if it’s possible. I miss a connection with Jack so badly. He didn’t mean to, but having him in my life monopolized it so that I have no friends to speak of.” Pam completely understood; it had done the same thing to her. The money thing was tougher. Where would it end? Did she owe something to Maryanne?
“Can I think about what you are asking? I don’t want to make any rash decisions here, Maryanne. If Jack owes you something, you deserve to have it. Was he giving you money regularly?”
Maryanne felt that she needed to be totally honest from the onset. If she ever decided to sue his estate, lies could come back to haunt her. Then she thought,
Sue? Who had ever mentioned a lawsuit?
T
he end of summer can be a melancholy time or one filled with fun and adventure. Marie’s life that week vacillated between hysterical fright and intense fabulousness. Jeff Babcock knew how to party. When he had a few drinks in him and had to act straight for the benefit of his family, he was wonderful! By the time Marie got to Pam’s house on the day of the confession to Steve Marks, Jeff was there. He had come to talk to Pam about being his date for a graduation party his brother Ted was having for his twin girls, who had finished their studies at Union College. Marie walked through the door from the beach as Jeff headed to the veranda, Pam at his side. He looked crestfallen when he saw Marie, but she had to hand it to him, he pulled right out of it in a matter of seconds and even acted pleased that she had come from the city even though it was obvious that he would rather have Pam as his beard for the party.
“Your timing is perfect, my friend!” Jeff said to Marie. Pam swiveled her head around.
Friend?
Pam thought.
Yuck.
Then she remembered that he had come out to Marie. She played dumb. Marie kissed her and went off to the veranda with Jeff, leaving Pam with her thoughts.
Pam was exhausted anyway. She hadn’t said anything to her children when they were at home after all, about AIDS or about Sandra’s baby; anything that was unpleasant was left out of the conversation. She felt a distance growing between herself and Sandra and thought that it was okay. She would miss Sandra. She would think about the baby, but she had done a complete turnaround regarding the baby’s importance in the lives of her children. She would tell them someday when she was ready, but not now.
In the meantime, that young police officer, Detective Adams, had come back to Sandra and asked for forgiveness. Tom realized that he couldn’t live without her. He would have to force himself to make a compromise and tolerate Pam and Marie when Sandra realized she could more easily live without Pam than she could without Tom. She would give up her friendship with Jack’s family if that was what it took to keep Tom around. No one told any of this to Bernice, who would probably forget about the baby in time.
Pam wanted to be alone to think about Maryanne. What was she going to do? She had to see a lawyer; that was clear. The woman was so sad and she really needed some help. The emotional toll of taking care of her daughter alone would be horrendous. Add to that the death of the boyfriend and the loss of a job. Pam realized how lucky she was that she had enough money to live without worry. Was it worth the tradeoff of the garbage Jack left behind? Probably not. But she had no control over what he had done. She could only control her own actions. And she felt badly for Maryanne. Jack had given Pam enough to make life pleasant, and if it worked out, she would share some of it with Maryanne.
The following day, Pam called her attorney for some advice. She learned that she had no legal obligation to help Maryanne and Katherine, and they had no grounds for a lawsuit, if that was a concern. Although her lawyer didn’t think she should do it, Pam could give Maryanne money if she felt that it was something she had to do, and it wouldn’t obligate her in the future. But because Katherine wasn’t Jack’s daughter, she and Maryanne had no rights to anything that had formerly been his. Pam felt saddened and empowered at the same time. She could do what she felt was morally responsible without setting a precedent that would be obligating.
Frieda
J
ack told me once that I was the only married woman he had ever slept with, besides his wife. I’m not proud of having had an affair. My husband is a busy man, always involved with another woman somewhere in the world, but that should not have influenced my decision to remain faithful or to be unfaithful. Jack was simply irresistible. I met him at a business function and the next thing I knew, we were in bed together like two wild animals. Of course, I thought it was a mutual need, a symbiotic attraction. Then Jack felt like he could confide in me and that entire allusion was blown. Jack was insane. He truly was crazy. A lunatic. How did he managed to run a company, raise two normal children, have several lovely homes, and the respect and admiration of the community, and yet no one discovered him? Jesus Christ, my faith took a beating on that one.
My office is Midtown, Third Avenue between Forty-second and Forty-third. To get to Jack in the worst traffic, all I had to do was walk up to Grand Central, take the Five Six train downtown and get off at Wall Street. Twenty minutes, tops. I am ashamed to admit that we often had sex in his office. He would shut the door and we would go at it. I bathed my rear end in his private bathroom many, many times.
Like I said, we were introduced at a business meeting. I don’t even remember the purpose of the meeting, but it involved lunch and we were lucky enough to sit next to each other. Peter Romney, his business partner, is my brother-in-law. I met Peter’s brother Benjamin, whom I later married, in Argentina, my home. He was there on business and there was instant attraction between us. I thought the name Benjamin Romney sounded like such a sturdy, honest name. My father and mother instantly liked him. We dated for about three weeks and then he had to go back to New York, so I went back with him. For the first five years, I modeled for a living. Then I got pregnant. I got my real estate license because I didn’t have the energy to get my pre-baby body back, and I was getting older.
I needed a workup done on a historic property in Queens. The buyers wanted to remodel, but they were in the historic district and there were all sorts of parameters that needed to be observed. I wasn’t sure what Pete’s business was at the time, but Ben said that was what Peter’s company did. So I took the information to Peter and he agreed to do the project. He told Jack right in front of me, “Don’t fuck my sister-in-law.” Exploding with laughter, Jack assured him that no such thing would happen, but of course, it already had. Now I had an excuse to be in his office. I saw Jack several times. He was always all-business, as he should be, and pleasant, as well. Jack was a real people person. You never know for sure if he is being sincere or blowing smoke up your ass.
Sometime before Fredericka was born, Ben and I got married. We had a lavish New York wedding. Jack and Pam Smith came, or were invited, I should say. He brought his sister-in-law instead. I don’t remember her name. She is one of those ageless women who, depending on the light, can look anywhere from twenty-five to sixty years of age. She was definitely on the older end of the scale when I met her. I was disappointed that Pam didn’t come, but later, I was glad. I don’t think I could have slept with her husband if I had met her. It’s not my style.
After Fredericka’s birth, I saw a big difference in Ben. I don’t really think he wanted a family. Now Peter, he would have loved it, yet has never been married and doesn’t even have a girlfriend. He isn’t gay!
Ben is never home. I mean
never
. He doesn’t seem happy when he is home, and has no interest in me or our daughter. She will be five in October. I’m thinking about moving back to Argentina. There is nothing left for me here, nothing. With Jack dead, I will only have work and taking care of my daughter. My husband is in China right now. He was home for six weeks this summer; we had a brief rekindling of our romantic relationship, but then he got antsy again and left. I was crushed. When we were making love, I could only think of Jack and how selfless he was in bed. He only wanted to satisfy me. The result is that I will never be satisfied with anyone else.
Maryanne
P
am Smith called last night. She asked to meet me at Jack’s mother’s house on the Upper West Side for coffee this morning. “It will save you from having to come back to Babylon,” she said. She never mentioned coming up here to my house. She just wanted to talk, to touch base again. She said she enjoyed hearing about Jack and his affection for Katherine; he was caring and interested in another human being. She was sorry that she didn’t see that side of him, which I thought was a bunch of crap. Anyway, I agreed to meet her. I took the train down, and then walked up Broadway. When I got to the address, I was stunned. So this is the Columbus Circle mansion. I have seen pictures of it in magazines over the years. I knew his mother still lived there. The owner of Gwen’s was in awe of Mrs. Smith, fawning over her when she came in on Wednesdays with Jack. She hoped Mrs. Smith would tell all of her fancy uptown friends about the coffee shop. But Mrs. Smith didn’t want anyone to know about it. It was her special place to have a meal with her son.