Running From Mercy (17 page)

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Authors: Terra Little

BOOK: Running From Mercy
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Miles drove straight from the airport to the B&B where Pam was staying, hoping to find her there and persuade her to join him for a late dinner or maybe drinks, if she'd already eaten. She wasn't in her room and he'd forgotten about the annual festival until the owner of the B&B reminded him that most, if not all of the town, was probably there. That explained why Moira hadn't answered her phone, he thought. She would be there, too.
He entertained the idea of tracking Pam down at Truman Field, but decided against it, since he wasn't really in the mood for socializing on that grand of a scale. He preferred to have Pam all to himself, without all the distractions other people would provide. He thought he knew the best way to approach her with the questions he wanted answers to and he was anxious to get to it. He declined the offer to wait for Pam in the main parlor and returned to his car.
He was checking the messages on his cell phone when Pam's car skidded to a stop not far from where he was parked. Had she glanced around she would've seen him, but she didn't. She hopped out of her car before it came to a complete stop and disappeared inside the B&B as if she thought she was being chased. His eyebrows shot up curiously. He reached for the door handle and froze as a second car pulled into the lot and parked. He watched Chad go inside after Pam.
Miles glanced at his watch and noted the time. 8:47
P.M.
It occurred to him that he should go and check in at his hotel, perhaps grab himself some dinner, since hadn't eaten anything in hours. He could catch up with Pam sometime tomorrow, when she was more relaxed and approachable. Something had obviously upset her, if the way she'd driven into the parking lot and run inside the building was any indication. Now probably wasn't the best time to go tapping on her door suggesting dinner.
“To hell with that,” Miles told himself. Even more pressing than the need to check into his hotel was the question running around in his mind: How long would Chad stay in Pam's room? There was only one way to find out the answer and that was to wait and see. Miles loosened his tie and slid down in his seat to do just that.
Inside the B&B, Chad knocked lightly on Pam's door and stood back to wait. “Who's there?” She stood on the other side of the door, close so her mouth was almost pressed to the wood and she didn't have to raise her voice.
“It's me,” Chad murmured.
Pam turned the lock and pulled the door open a little at a time. She peered out at Chad through an inch wide crack. “Where is Nikki?”
“Spending the night with Kelly so she can stay at the festival longer than she knows she's supposed to.” He used two fingers to nudge the door open wider. She didn't protest and he kept nudging until there was enough space for him to slip inside the room. She stepped around him to lock the door and he stepped with her, moving up close behind her and opening his mouth on the back of her neck. Pam's eyes closed on a long sigh. She sucked the sigh back into her mouth as his hands came around and cupped her breasts.
Chad's tongue flickered along the line of Pam's shoulder, up her neck and dipped into her ear. His breathing was heavy and erratic. “Do you want me to leave, Pam?” Even as he asked the question, he was pulling her shirt over her head and dropping it on the floor. Her bra was next, and then his fingers were teasing her nipples. Pam swallowed and shook her head. She turned in his arms and opened her mouth for his tongue.
Miles didn't check into his hotel room until 4:52
A.M.
, twenty minutes after Chad left the B&B.
THIRTEEN
Dear Diary,
 
Today I learned the true meaning of knocking before opening a closed door. This was even worse than the time me and Pam walked into Lisa Hennigan's room and caught her and Leslie Mayer in bed together, kissing each other on the mouth. Everybody was embarrassed then, but today just takes the cake. I guess me and Nate can stop asking ourselves what's really going on between Pam and Chad because now we know. A little bit, anyway because neither one of them is saying much.
Chad's parents are out of town (big surprise there, right?) and we all planned to meet over to his house and hang out. I met up with Nate at the A&P and we waited around to see if Pam would show up, but she never did. Where was she? I'm getting to that. Nate bought some sodas and talked old Mr. Tommy into letting him have a bottle of wine, too. We walked over to Chad's house and went on in since the back door was unlocked. It was real quiet and Nate thought maybe Chad was in his room playing with himself or something, so he told me to be quiet going up the steps. He thought it would be funny to bust in Chad's room and catch him. I thought so too, but at the same time I was wondering how Nate figured that's what Chad would be doing. Did he play with himself, too? Hmmm.
Anyway, Nate eased the door open and we peeked inside the room and there was Pam and Chad in bed together. Oh my God! So that's where she disappeared to. Thank God they had clothes on and were lying on top of the covers or else I would've really had a heart attack. From the look on Nate's face I could tell he was just as surprised as I was. I mean, we pretty much figured that they liked each other, maybe even kissed a few times. We suspected some stuff, but not this. Pam was lying on her back and Chad was lying on top of her, between her legs with his head on her chest. They were both out cold, Chad with his arms pushed underneath Pam and Pam with one arm around a pillow and the other around Chad's neck. It gets worse, though. We were still peeking in the room, watching, when Chad woke up and shook Pam, so she could wake up, too. I guess she didn't come to fast enough because then he started kissing her like crazy. Next thing me and Nate knew, he was lying full on top of her and they were sucking face like people on television do, mouths open wide, so you just knew they were tonguing. I felt my mouth drop open and looked at Nate. His mouth was open, too. Pam pretended like she was so sleepy, but she was kissing Chad back and squeezing his butt as he pressed into her down there.
Nate gasped when Chad went up on his hands and rolled his hips into Pam's private area and I gasped when she gasped. I can't believe Pam never told me any of this. We tell each other everything, but she's been holding out about Chad, and about lying in his bed with him and kissing like she's thirty instead of fifteen. Oh my God! I can't stop saying that.
Nate pulled the door closed and we stood there a long time, listening to them talk in low voices and hearing Pam giggle. She was laughing as she told Chad to stop doing whatever he was doing because she had to pee. We heard her climb off the bed and come walking toward the door. I'm glad Nate is a quick thinker because I was still in shock. He hurried up and knocked on the door, so they would think we had just gotten there.
I wonder what they would've done if me and Nate hadn't showed up when we did? Pam keeps saying she's a virgin, but now I'm not so sure. Are they having sex? When I find out (and I will find out) you'll be the first to know.
 
Paris
Nikki closed the diary and raised enlightened eyes in Pam's direction. Her dad had dropped her off at the B&B this morning on his way to the high school, so she could spend the day with Pam rather than moping around the house by herself. They'd gone out for breakfast and then returned to the B&B to swim before lunch. Nikki stretched out on her lounge chair and watched her aunt swim. She'd been trying to keep track of Pam's laps, but she lost count somewhere around lap twelve because that was when she had opened the diary and started reading. These days she carried the diary around with her, mostly everywhere she went, in the Gucci tote she had finally talked Pam into parting with.
Aunt Pam and her dad? The idea of the two of them together, kissing and who knew what else, gave her a funny feeling. Like she was on the outside looking in on something she would never be able to completely figure out. Mercy was a small town, and everybody knew everybody else's business, but she had never heard the slightest whisper about anything going on between her dad and her aunt back then. And she'd heard plenty about Aunt Pam running wild and being a hooligan. The gossips had always put her and Uncle Nate together, saying they were the ones who were sneaking around and doing . . . things.
Still, her mom wouldn't write about Aunt Pam and her dad if there wasn't something to it. She rationalized that if anyone had cause to know the inside scoop, it would've been her mom. The one time she'd asked her dad about something her mom had written he'd gone all stiff and started snapping Nikki's head off, which was just as bad as coming right out and telling her to mind her own business. She knew she couldn't go to him asking more questions about him and Aunt Pam, and Aunt Pam probably wouldn't be any better with answering questions either.
I guess I'll just have to keep reading,
Nikki thought.
Pam finished her laps and left the pool. She padded across the slippery concrete and dropped onto the lounger beside Nikki with an exhausted sigh. “You decided to have a look, huh?” she asked as she scrubbed a towel through her hair and shook it out with her fingers.
Nikki couldn't help herself. “Yep, and there's some pretty interesting speculations about you and my dad, Aunt Pam. I think you ought to just come out and tell me if what my mom suspected was true.”
“What did your mom suspect?” Pam was careful to keep her voice even and light.
“You and my dad were kind of hot and heavy back then. What's up with that?”
“What's up with that is that your mother had a very active imagination and it looks like you do, too.” Pam stood and playfully tapped Nikki's thigh. “I thought you were supposed to be taking comfort from having that book, not looking for clues.”
“So there
are
clues to look for?” Pam was gathering up her things so Nikki starting gathering her own things. She dropped the diary in her tote and threw her towel over shoulder. She stood and pushed her feet into her flip-flops, watching Pam's face closely.
“Nikki, please. I told you before not to believe everything you read. And anyway, even if your dad and I did have a crush on each other back then, which I'm not saying we did, he married your mom. Mystery solved. Can we go and eat now?”
I don't think so,
Nikki thought to herself as she followed Pam to her room. They took turns in the shower and got dressed. Pam changed into drawstring silk pants and a matching sleeveless top and pulled her wet hair into a sloppy ponytail at the nape of her neck. She was pushing earrings into her ears when Nikki emerged from the bathroom, looking freshly scrubbed and bringing the scent of lilacs with her.
“I see you found my shower gel,” Pam chuckled and shook her head. “Your mom used to help herself to my stuff, too.”
“You mind?” Nikki perched on the edge of the bed and slathered some of Pam's shea butter cream on her long legs.
“No, I don't mind. I love you and I share with the people I love. You like that?” She nodded toward the jar Nikki held, sat down next to her and scooped cream into her palm. “Here, turn around and I'll do your back. When did your tits get so big?”
Nikki gasped and turned to stare at Pam over her shoulder. “Aunt Pam! I keep telling you I'm seventeen now. I'm supposed to have tits. And mine are only a little bigger than yours.”
“Must get those from Chad's side of the family,” Pam murmured, referring to the fact that her own breasts were a conservative 34C and Nikki's were at least two sizes larger. She brought a mental picture of Chad's mother to the front of her mind and nodded at what she saw. Nikki would probably have breasts like Angela Greene; plump and juicy, the way most men liked them. She smoothed the last of the cream into Nikki's skin and gave her back a light pat. “Seems like just yesterday you had braces on your teeth and ponytails hanging down your back. God, you had the wildest, tangliest hair I've ever seen in my life.”
“You know what you gotta do, don't you, Aunt Pam?”
“Oh no, not the comb.” Pam hopped off the bed and backed away from the comb Nikki held out to her. She darted a glance at the tangled mess on Nikki's head and cringed, which made Nikki burst out laughing. “You're tender-headed Nikki, and you know how you used to scream and holler when it was time to get your hair combed.”
“At least I already shampooed it. Come on, Aunt Pam. I just need you to moisturize my scalp and then comb it out for me. Do me one of those French buns you always wear.” She saw the tortured look on Pam's face and stuck out her bottom lip pitifully. “
Pleeeeeease?
”
Nikki refrained from screaming and hollering, but still over an hour had passed when they finally walked into the dining room, ready to sit down to lunch. Chad came to pick up Nikki just as they finished the caramel cheesecake they were sharing for dessert.
He approached the table, hands in his pockets and looking from one to the other expectantly. “If any crimes have been committed tell me now,” he said.
“You just missed the police, Dad,” Nikki said. “And you're late.”
He spread his hands wide in surrender. “Some of us do work, you know. I wish I could've spent the day lounging around the pool like you. Where's your stuff?”
“I left it in Aunt Pam's room. If you'd let me drive we wouldn't have these kinds of issues. You know that, right?” She gave him the evil eye as she pushed her chair back and stood up slowly.
“Maybe after I forget about those three tickets you got, I'll give you back your keys.”
“That's not fair.”
“That's fair as hell, especially since Harper just made it his business to inform me that you and Kelly were out past two o'clock in the morning last Saturday. You want to talk about that?”
“Old Man Harper has the biggest mouth in town,” Nikki complained dramatically.
“Yes, he does,” Pam agreed quietly and looked away when Chad grimaced in her direction.
“I just want you to know that I'm feeling really mistreated right now.”
“Duly noted. Go get your stuff.” Chad stepped back and pointed a finger toward the staircase, eyebrows raised. Pam remained silent, handing Nikki her room key as she passed.
“She's a spoiled brat.” He dropped into the chair Nikki had vacated, picked up her water glass, and downed the rest of it in one gulp. He locked eyes with Pam over the rim of the glass. “It's a damn shame she has me wrapped around her finger and she knows it.” He set the glass down and folded his hands on the table.
“She's a good kid,” Pam said, but her next thought wrinkled her forehead prettily. “She's also nosy as hell, too. That damn diary could bring up a lot of questions that I don't have answers for. She's circling around like a vulture as we speak.”
“I was thinking the same thing. I thought about sneaking in her room and making it disappear, but I'm sure she'd notice it was gone.”
“She asked me if we dated and I couldn't think of anything to say, except that it was ancient history and that Paris probably embellished a little bit.”
He grinned and shook his head. “That sounds like the same thing I told her when she approached me, which undoubtedly makes us both look guilty as hell.”
“And here I thought we were being so careful back then. Keeping secrets and sneaking around, and all the time Paris
knew
?”
“From what I understand she
suspected
,” Chad clarified. “After we were married the conversation came up and I got around to admitting that you and I were lovers for much longer than she knew, but I had no idea she'd write it down in that damn diary of hers.”
“Oh, for the . . .” Pam lifted a hand and let it drop back to the table disgustedly. “Thanks a lot, Chad. That was a really smart thing to do. And why were you discussing my business with Paris, anyway?”
“It was my business too, remember?” He leaned across the table slightly. “Plus, it helped explain why things were the way they were between Paris and me. How was I supposed to know she'd write the shit down? And what is this obsession women have with keeping diaries any damn way?”
“For your information, Moira gave us those diaries when we were twelve,” Pam hissed. They didn't make journals like them anymore. They were heavy, hard bound and covered with floral printed cloth, both of them at least five hundred pages thick. The pages were lined with midnight blue ink, the lines set close together for elegantly tiny entries, and the edges of the pages rimmed in gold. She and Paris's arms had been sore after lugging them all the way back to the home after Moira had surprised them with the books. She'd probably be seventy years old before a replacement was necessary. The cloth had since taken somewhat of a beating, but she had just recently reached the halfway point in her own 8X10 diary. Even journaling daily, Paris couldn't have been that much further along.

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