In Memoriam (13 page)

“We’re bound to have some friction,” Big Ed said. “But we love Megan and Lisa. So it will take more than a smart-ass lawyer to drive us away. Although you almost did it there, I’ve got to hand it to you; that comment hurt.”

“Well, I was being an asshole,” Dan said. “Again, please forgive me.”

“Watch your mouth around Megan,” Gladys warned. “She’ll be calling you an a-hole before you know it. Trust me, I’ve done it myself.”

“Everyone’s up already?” Lisa was standing at the top of the stairs looking down.

“Yep, here we are,” Dan said. “I’ll bring you breakfast in bed.”

“Forget it,” Lisa said. “I’m sick of being in bed already. I’ll be right down.”

Gladys had taken Megan back to the kitchen, and Ed was in the den with the morning news, his feet up in the recliner, in his position for the rest of the day. Disaster had been narrowly averted. Dan thought he had better warn Gladys.

“I hope you won’t tell Lisa about what happened,” Dan said.

Gladys frowned and looked up from Megan. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she said, winking at him. “It’s a normal Sunday morning at home.”

Chapter 13

Tom woke up before Sandra did Sunday morning. He was beat, the mental exhaustion of doing CPR on Bernice the night before would play out over the next several days. Vulnerable after such an emotional experience, he knew he might not be making good choices regarding Sandra. But it was better that he allowed his heart to take over for a while so he wouldn’t have any regrets.

Everything Pam had said to him was true. What if the baby belonged to him? He got out of bed and went to the nursery. The baby was sleeping on his back. Tom tried so desperately to see something of himself in the child’s face. Anything. He looked at his mouth, and it was a small rosebud. Long black lashes rested on his cheeks. The only thing Tom could see that might be his were the baby’s hands. He had long fingers for an infant, long and thin. They were up at the side of his head. A floorboard creaked, and he turned around to see Nelda coming in.

“Good morning,” she whispered. “I thought I heard someone up. Thought it might be Miranda.”

“Nope, just me,” Tom replied, looking back at the baby. “So, Granny, what’s your take on this kid? Who’s his father?”

“I guess whoever wants to be,” Nelda said. “Since one of the contenders is dead, I guess it boils down to you, if your pride can take it.”

He turned to look at her, still leaning on the crib, frowning. Suddenly, without meaning to, he grabbed her in a bear hug. Nelda yelped and laughed, but Tom started to cry again.

“How’d you know?”

“The walls are thin,” she said, smirking, the conversation about baby Brent’s paternity at Lisa’s house confidential. “You love her. Why deny yourself a life of happiness? Here are two children who need you. If you’ll allow it, they will be your children and you will be their dad, regardless of who the sperm came from. I mean, how is Miranda being your child any different than Thomas?”

“Pride,” Tom replied, looking back down at the baby. “Pride and trust.”

Nelda walked closer to him, whispering, “If my grandson raped your girlfriend, how does your pride enter into the equation? What does it ever have to do with you? If you love her, you stay with her and keep her safe so that it can never happen again. Only a real man could do that.”

“She put herself in that situation,” he said lamely, not really believing it.

“From what I understand, she went to Madison Avenue to see my daughter. Pam left her there with Brent.”

“What are you saying?” He looked down into her eyes.

Nelda was eighty years old, but at that moment, to Tom she looked like she was forty. Tom loved her like an old friend.

“I’m saying blame Pam. She has broad shoulders. It was her kid who was to blame. Forgive Sandra, and move on. Don’t upheave your life, steal your mother’s joy, rob yourself of the love of your life. Isn’t that what you said about Sandra? You said those words to me when Marie died. ‘Sandra is the love of my life.’ It was the reason I felt safe relinquishing my rights as Miranda’s custodial parent. You promised me you’d love her and provide a home for her.
In sickness and in health, for better or worse, till death do us part.
Think about it, Tommy. You’re not a kid anymore. When is a love like this going to come your way again? Make it work.” Nelda walked out, leaving him at the crib.

It would be so much easier to just walk away, not to care.

“Oh hell, okay,” he said to the air.

~ ~ ~

The nurse on Bernice’s unit brought Pam a recliner, so as unlikely as it was, she ended up getting a few hours sleep. Bernice made it through the night, exhausted, but alive.

“Where the hell am I?”

Pam was lying with her eyes closed when she heard the gravelly voice.

“And why is my throat so sore?”

Pam struggled to sit up and get the foot of the recliner down.

“You scared the shit out of us, old lady,” she replied, telling Bernice the toned-down version, leaving out the cardiac arrest and anything that would sear her pride.

“You know, I felt a little weird all day, but I thought it was the excitement of the baby.”

“That’ll do it,” Pam said. “You’re getting a pacemaker inserted this morning, and you can come home in a few days.”

“How’d you get stuck spending the night here? Where’s Annabelle? Does Nelda know?”

“I’m sure Nelda is having a fit. Annabelle went back to the beach because she couldn’t stop crying.” Pam moved to the side rail and took Bernice’s hand in hers. It was as light as a feather, the skin dry and soft. “I needed to be close to you. When it was happening, when I thought there was a chance I might lose you, I realized how awful it would be because there’d be no one else left who loved Jack as much as I did.”

Bernice grabbed her hand. “Oh, how sad,” she said. “I never thought of it that way. I’ll be sure to live just for that reason. It’s the best one yet.”

~ ~ ~

Out of nowhere, Pam remembered Ashton Hageman. He was a hateful man, but he’d loved Jack. Suddenly, she wanted to talk to him. To tell him that she understood everything he’d said to her, only her pride wouldn’t allow her to acknowledge him. But she was ready to do so now. She was ready to accept him.

Once she was sure Bernice was going to be okay, Pam made a beeline back to the beach. She had Ashton’s telephone number in her address book; even when he accosted her at Costco, she’d held on to a letter he’d written her after Jack died, just in case. Her hand shaking, she dialed the number. It rang and rang, and finally a message came on that the number was no longer in service. Frowning, she thought she might have dialed the number incorrectly, so she tried it again, and the same thing happened. She looked at the entry again and saw that she had another number for him, so she dialed that one next.

“Hageman Staging,” the voice answered.

Pam cleared her throat. “May I speak to Mr. Hageman, please? This is Pam Smith calling.” She heard whispering in the background, and the voice came back.

“Miss Smith, if you’ll give me your number, I’ll have someone call you back as soon as possible.”

“Okay, that’s fine,” Pam said, giving the number. “Will he call me right back?”

“This is the answering service, ma’am. You’ll get a call as soon as possible,” the voice repeated. “I’ll try to locate someone right away.”

“This is a personal call, not a business call,” Pam stated. “I don’t need to talk to anyone else.” But the voice had hung up.

Pam put the phone down and started to pace. She turned back to the phone and saw the message light blinking, picked up the receiver again and listened. The first caller was Jeff Babcock, apologizing for not being there for her, hoping she was okay. The next was Lisa, and Pam was afraid she was crying. She listened to the message again, “
I was just thinking about you. Miss you, Mom.
” But it was unmistakable, the distinctive throaty voice of a Smith, in tears.

“Oh hell, I better call her back.” She punched in the numbers and waited as the phone rang and rang, finally hanging up. Maybe Lisa was napping with the baby. Dan would probably let the phone ring before he’d answer to speak to her.

Lisa had her shower and came down with a terry bathrobe on and her hair wrapped in a towel. Her youth and sparkling good looks took Dan’s breath away.

“Boy, if my family wasn’t due in a few minutes, I’d be taking you back up those stairs,” he whispered.

“Ah, good luck with that, buddy. I just had a kid yesterday, in case you forgot.”

“Oh, right. You look so good, I’d forgotten already. How long do we have to wait?” He reached down and rearranged his crotch.

Lisa shook her head in disgust, uttering, “Men,” and going to the coffee pot. “What time is your family getting here?” Reaching for a coffee cup, she poured herself the first one of the day.

“They’re bringing lunch, so around noon,” Dan said, getting up from the table. He’d forgotten the text to Catherine, who’d be arriving in minutes. It was nearing nine. “Before I forget, is Megan getting enough to eat?”

Lisa frowned. “Where did that come from?”

“I picked her up, and she’s as light as a feather. I want to feed her more.”

Shrugging her shoulders, Lisa said, “Okay, feed her more, then.”

Dan bent down to get Megan up from the floor, where she was playing with a stuffed toy. “Come on, baby. You’re getting breakfast now.”

Lisa yawned. “I forgot how exhausting it is to be up and down with a newborn all night.”

“I knew you were getting up. Can you pump, and I’ll do some feedings?”

“You’d do that?”

“Jesus, Lisa, of course I would. I don’t have boobs for him to nurse on, or I’d be sharing.”

She laughed, but secretly thought,
Boy, are you lucky you said that.

“By the way, I think your mother called a few minutes ago.”

“Okay, I better call her back.” She walked back to the den, saw the neat couch, Gladys watching TV with Ed. She remembered the squeaky noises she’d heard and grimaced. Ed and Gladys were getting too comfortable here. She picked up the phone and dialed the number at the beach, but no one answered. She’d try later.

Pam was waiting for that call from Ashton Hageman. Finally, at ten, her phone rang.

“This is Ted Dale. I’m returning your call for Ashton Hageman.”

Annoyed, Pam took a deep breath. “I wanted to talk to Mr. Hageman.”

“I’m sorry to have to inform you that Ashton died last summer.”

Pam gasped, backing up to a chair. “Oh, I’m so sorry.” She didn’t know where it was coming from because she certainly didn’t have any reason to feel sad about his death, but without meaning to, against her will, she started to cry.

“Thank you. Is there anything I can help you with? His staging business is still in full swing if you need those services.”

Struggling to speak normally, Pam answered, “No, I am an acquaintance. I didn’t know he had died.”

“Yes, he’s been gone almost a year,” Ted said. “You say you knew Ashton?”

“Well, sort of. He was a friend of my late husband.”

Ted looked down at the message he’d taken from the answering service. Pam Smith.
Jack Smith’s wife.
“You’re Jack Smith’s wife?” Ted asked, sounding more disbelieving than he wanted. After all, it wasn’t her fault he was a jerk.

“Yes, yes, I’m his widow,” Pam said, no longer trying to hide her sadness. “I’ve been missing him a lot lately, and I know Ashton wanted to speak to me about Jack, and I never allowed it. Now it’s too late.”

Ted didn’t know what to say. He was aware that Jack left a wake of destruction behind when he died. Why would his wife, who Ashton often referred to as a star, still be pining away for him?
Oh, what the hell
, Ted thought.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Smith. Do you want to meet for coffee?” Ted asked. “I know a little about what Ashton felt for Jack. Maybe I can tell you something that will help you feel better.” He wasn’t sure that was the right term to use with her, but she seemed eager to hear what he said, so it must have been okay.

“Yes, I’d love to. But I don’t go into the city. My son died last year, and the last time I saw him alive was at Jack’s place on Madison. There are too many painful memories for me there.”

“Oh, I am so sorry,” Ted said meaningfully.
What would life be like without Deborah?
He couldn’t imagine it now that she was in his life. “Of course, I can come to you. You live in Babylon if I remember correctly.”

Pam hesitated. How would he know that? “Yes, I live in Babylon. Did Ashton tell you?”

“Yes,” Ted said. “He told me about the visit he made there. The first time he saw Jack’s house. How it made him feel to sit there with you. He wanted so badly to be your close friend. Did you know that?”

“Ah, no, I did not. He attacked me at Costco, said things that made me believe he must hate my guts.”

“Well, it was all knee-jerk. I hope you’ll be able to forgive him someday. I’m working on it myself.”

“I’m sorry,” Pam said, knowing how hard it was to forgive after someone had died.

“Yes, well, it’s no big deal. When would you like to get together? I’m free this afternoon, if that would work for you.”

Pam decided to ask him to come over. “That would be wonderful. Please come.” She gave him the address, and they said good-bye.

Pam felt numb, walking around her house. Nelda’s and Bernice’s absences left a huge void. How’d she live alone those few years after Jack died?

Opening the sliders to the veranda, the smell of the ocean hit her in the face, and she smiled. Living at the beach had its drawbacks, but they were easily overcome. She promised to take advantage of being there every day this summer. She’d begin that moment, walking the beach like she used to before heartbreak took over. Grabbing a grocery bag, she’d hunt for sea glass again like the old days, and pick up litter. Her neglected straw hat hung on a peg just inside the veranda door to the beach, and she put that on and tied the string under her chin. The wind whipped sand warmed by the sun, and she could feel it hitting the back of her neck.