Dream Lover (22 page)
T
he weather was forecast to be beautiful for the weekend; real fall weather, not too hot, with clear, sunny skies. Nelda was staying in the city and Pam planned on a peaceful, private time alone. Friday morning she started her weekend odyssey by stopping at Organic Bonanza on her way home from the gym. She would prepare her meals as though she were a lone honored guest. With Nelda away and some of her sadness lifted, she was enjoying old favorites from her life with Jack, including cooking. It seemed right to do for herself that which she had formerly done for Jack. She chose a nice looking steak and fresh flounder for the grill. The deli had fabulous potato salad. It didn’t make any sense to make it from scratch when you could get it here fresh and made from organic ingredients. She approached the counter, and although there were only three women in line waiting, Pam took a number. The two deli clerks got through the orders quickly and then it was Pam’s turn.
“Hi Jean!” Pam said to the girl closest to her. “I’ll take a half pound of potato salad.” The young woman looked right at Pam, but didn’t acknowledge her. She opened the deli case and straightened the serving spoons, turning her back on Pam. She walked away and started to fuss with some paper supplies. Pam was confused for a second; Jean had looked right at her. “Jean, could I have a half-pound of potato salad, please?”
Maybe because she didn’t say “please”?
Pam thought. Again, she was ignored. The other clerk, a surly young woman Pam remembered as Marion from Lisa’s softball team, stood off to the side with a smirk on her face. Pam was baffled. She remembered being ignored by the two clerks last summer and that memory made her angry. She was tempted to walk away as she had that time weeks ago, but she really want that damn potato salad.
“Jean. Marion. Would one of you please wait on me?” Neither girl responded. So Pam did something so out of character that she shocked even herself. She picked up her purse and, leaving her cart in front of the deli case, walked around through the “employees only” area to get her own order.
Marion yelled out, “Get out of here! What are you doing?” She came over to Pam and made a motion to grab her arm. “Get out of here! I don’t even want to touch you without gloves, you skank!”
Not quite getting it yet, not thinking about her health or that anyone could know anything about her private life, Pam immediately thought that maybe Marion knew something about Jack. Maybe she had heard about him. It made her ill. She suddenly lost her taste for Organic Bonanza’s potato salad. She turned to walk back to her cart when the store manager appeared.
“What’s going on here?” he asked. Mrs. Smith was a longtime customer, a faithful big spender. That she was behind the deli counter was strange enough, but if she wanted to get her own order, he’d see to it that she could. There seemed to be more going on than just dishing up salad however; the two clerks stood apart and one of them had assumed an aggressive stance toward Pam.
“Can I help you with anything Mrs. Smith? What’s going on Marion?” He said her name slowly, elongating the vowels, narrowing his eyes.
“You can see what’s going on,” the young woman said. “She came around back here to dish up her own salad, touching the spoons without gloves on. It’s enough to make me sick.”
“Marion, go to the office right now. Jean,” he said, looking at the other clerk, “go with her. Mrs. Smith, do you want to tell me what’s happening?” He softly spoke to Pam, his body language saying that he was eager to help her. He glared at the clerks. “Go, now!” he said to them.
It took her awhile, but Pam finally got what it was all about. Somehow, they knew she had AIDS. Two young women, contemporaries of her children, knew what Pam thought was a well-kept secret. If she didn’t act quickly, someone might tell Lisa and Brent that their mother was infected with the AIDS virus, and she didn’t want that.
Then she remembered that Jean, the older of the two deli clerks, had a sister who was a nurse in the Emergency Room at the hospital. Would she have discovered Pam’s health condition and told her family? The store manager was standing there, and although Pam wanted to just shake it off and walk away, something told her that now was the time to take a stand.
“Those young women are very rude, I am so sorry to say. Every time I have come into the store for the past several months, since my husband died to be exact, they have ignored my requests for service. I am about ready to shop elsewhere.” Pam couldn’t help herself; she started laughing. “That’s a lie. I love it here. But I do miss getting things from the deli.”
The manager went right behind the counter and got her order for her, yammering the whole time. “I am so sorry, Mrs. Smith, it won’t happen again. If it does, I’ll personally wait on you myself every time you come into the store.” He gave Pam her packages and she continued shopping, planning how she was going to tell her children the truth. And when she was done with that nightmare, she was going to get an attorney to find out who had divulged her personal health information. She was in a litigious mood. She would take out her anger at Jack on the nurse who had opened her big mouth. Feeling a deep sense of satisfaction, Pam smiled. She was about to go public.
S
andra Benson walked back to her office, wondering what had just happened between her and Marie. She thought that some line had been crossed; where she had been the levelheaded one in the past, able to justify looking down her nose at the frenzied Marie, Marie was now the “normal” one, and Sandra was the unstable one. The smell of the roasting fat and spices from a hotdog cart made her mouth water. As much as she hated to put anything unhealthy into her body, she put her soul-searching on hold and ordered a dog with all the fixings and enough acid to send her into early labor, along with an order of French fries. She walked half a block south to the triangle, a place furnished with picnic tables and trash barrels. It was after lunchtime, and the place was deserted. Spreading a paper napkin down for a placemat, she arranged her food and began to eat. The first bite of the hot dog sent boiling juices squirting everywhere, including down the front of her perfectly tailored, beige silk suit. She cleaned up the mess as best she could with the flimsy paper napkin, rubbing the grease deeper into the fabric.
Oh great.
As hard as she tried, she could not get Marie Fabian out of her mind. She felt anxious, as though she had lost some footing, some self-respect. Was she just as badly behaved as Marie was? She had rationalized her behavior with Jack by lying to herself; telling herself that because she didn’t know Pam, it was okay. They were destined to be together in spite of his marriage. Although Sandra always felt like the relationship was short lived, because of the pregnancy she had fantasized that it was a love affair that would have transcended its shady origins if Jack hadn’t died. Marie was more at fault because she had betrayed her own sister. She’d probably come on to Jack, and he, being a highly sexual human being, had succumbed in a moment of weakness. She then remembered Cindy Thomasini. Where did she fit into the picture?
Give it a rest
, she said to herself.
Stick to the issue.
The issue was why was she always so mean to Marie?
You are jealous of her, that’s obvious.
And the truth was that Sandra’s relationship with Jack was nothing more than a momentary lapse in judgment and that theirs probably was but one of many, many illicit romances. She looked around the park, noticing for the first time that some of the trees had been vandalized; the bark sliced with deep, machete like cuts. Some of the lower branches of the trees were broken off, leaving jagged ends. There was a small sparrow sitting on the remains of one of the branches, grooming itself with a small, delicate wing poised over its head. The gesture was so innocent that Sandra gave out an involuntary gasp and began to cry. The juxtaposition of the little bird on the destroyed tree in that pathetic little park, empty of anyone but Sandra, magnified her sense of loneliness. And then she thought of Tom.
What future was there with him, really?
she thought.
Eventually, she was afraid that the very company Jack had left her might become anathema to Tom. He had made a few remarks under his breath about the hours she had been putting in lately, preparing for maternity leave. Thankfully, he didn’t know that her share of the profits from the company was going to Pam. Sandra’s draw was substantial however, and she wasn’t about to divulge that yet. There was a twist to his mouth whenever she tried to share something interesting from her day at work. She didn’t do anything else, didn’t have any hobbies, or go out with friends, so her conversation about herself was limited to what she did at her job. And she didn’t really want to be forced to change that. Soon, she’d have a baby to occupy the rest of her thoughts.
Flattered almost desperately that he was interested in her, at first it had seemed like enough. But as the weeks passed and she was getting to know him better, she formed a deeper concern that possibly he wasn’t smart enough for her. She never would have breathed that fact to a soul. But the truth was that one of the things that had attracted her to Jack was his brilliance. It was the most positive thing about him. He was an enigma in the business world, internationally known for his demographic acumen, but that wasn’t all. Jack was a voracious reader. There wasn’t a topic he couldn’t discuss. And he was interested in everyone and everything. No matter where they went together, people knew Jack. He was forever being stopped by friends, or recognizing old acquaintances and stopping to greet them. He always introduced her as well, seemly unconcerned that someone might tell his wife about seeing Jack with another woman. She couldn’t recall ever taking a walk with him that was not an adventure. He couldn’t pass a street musician without speaking to him, finding out how long he had played his instrument, if he played in a group anywhere, anything the musician cared to share about his life with a stranger. He loved to talk politics and never let an opportunity pass to get someone else’s opinion on a topic.
In the middle of the week, there was a farmer’s market north of Wall Street and once, shortly before he died, Jack invited her to wander around the stalls with him. He spoke to every vendor, finding out something about his life. He truly wanted to know. It was almost as if he was planning to run for political office, but that was ridiculous. Jack just didn’t want to waste a second of time.
Sandra realized that comparing Tom, an honest, hardworking, twenty-nine-year-old Brooklyn boy to a worldly man twice his age was unfair. She also made the discovery that she was grieving still, and it was a mistake to interrupt the process. It didn’t mean that they could never be in a relationship but rather, that now may not be the best time to start one. She was using Tom. The fear that no one else would want her was a big concern. Maybe she was underestimating Tom, however. He’d broken it off once and then returned on his own, understanding that she had a lot of work to do to recover from losing Jack. But did he really know her deepest feelings? Probably not, since it appeared she wasn’t in touch with them herself.
“Oh what a mess,” she said aloud. She stood up and gathered up her trash, her stomach rebelling from the hot dog. She’d carry her stained jacket back to the office and get it to the cleaners as soon as possible. That would be the only decision she would make, leaving her sadness about Jack and her questions about Tom behind in the triangle park. She wasn’t really up to doing anything life-changing at the moment.
As soon as she got back to her office, Marie called Pam. She wanted to get the list of women’s names to her sister even though she knew that Pam might interpret it as a hurtful action. Somehow, she had to get it across to Pam that she was not purposefully trying to upset her. It was information that belonged to Pam and Pam alone, and she would never mention it again if need be. She locked her office door and went right to the phone. Pam picked up on the first ring.
“Oh! I was just going to call you! When we do this, it always catches me off guard,” she confessed. “Someday I will get used to our ESP. What’s up?”
“What were you going to call me about?” Marie asked. She was losing nerve and maybe if she allowed Pam to talk first, revealing the list wouldn’t seem so aggressive on her part.
“Are you in a rush? This might take some time,” Pam said, prepared to tell her sister about her grocery store encounter, and that she was going to call her children and tell them the truth about her health and their father’s role in it, if it came up. Marie encouraged Pam to go ahead and begin, more than glad to delay what she had to say. Pam told her what happened, and Marie was furious.
“You know, I hate that store. It seems like such a wholesome, friendly place and it’s really just a haven for snobs. How can a goddamned deli clerk get away with talking to you like that?” Marie asked.
“Well, I don’t think I’m going to allow her to,” Pam confided. “On Monday I am going to talk to my lawyer about her sister, the nurse. I’m sure she broke some law by gossiping about me to her sister. I have never felt vindictive before, but I do today. Isn’t it strange? Why now? I’ve certainly had the opportunity to do so this summer.”