Family Dynamics (Pam of Babylon Book Five) (21 page)

BOOK: Family Dynamics (Pam of Babylon Book Five)
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Brent Smith threw himself into his new job with gusto, and after the completion of his first year, he got the promotion he was hoping for. Soon, his girlfriend, Julie from White Plains, would come out for a week. Brent was becoming increasingly concerned about her being there in California, about her presence preventing him from pursuing his hobbies. And then out of nowhere, Julie made the decision that if they were going to stay together much longer, she needed to find a job and move to Pasadena.

“What’s the point of us being ‘together’ if we aren’t together? I’m not getting any younger. Either you want me or you don’t!” she said.

“You’re only twenty-three,” Brent said. “What’s the hurry?”

She looked at the phone, incredulous. “What’s my hurry? I’m lonely! Either you want me or you don’t,” she repeated. “What are you doing out there that you don’t want me to find out about?”

“Stop,” he said. “If it means that much to you, then move, for God’s sake. I didn’t have much time before, and it will get worse now that I’m the department head at work. Are you ready to be lonely with me in the next room?”

Julie didn’t reply. She understood about being lonely while she was with him. Brent was the silent type; when they were together, she never felt like they were
together
. Her girlfriends didn’t want her to go, advising her that she was leaving her friends and family, her life in New York, for someone who didn’t really want her to go to him or to make those sacrifices.

“Look, if you want me to come, I’m on my way. If you don’t, I’m not going to force you into living with me. But hear me, Brent, this is it. I love you, but I’m tired of being alone. You need to make up your mind whether you want to be with me.”

Brent was exasperated. He didn’t want to be cornered. Was there a way he could hold on to Julie, whom he loved as much as he was capable, and have her stay in White Plains? He was frightened he’d never be ready to live with her, and the last thing he needed was for her to give up her job and move to California and then find out it wasn’t going to work. The silence ricocheted over the telephone.

“Oh God, I really was hoping it wouldn’t come to this,” Julie said. She wasn’t a drama queen and would quietly end the relationship without causing a scene.
How am I going to move on from here?
she asked herself. And then without any further dialogue, she simply hung up the phone.

Chapter 25

S
andra was in her element. Keeping the baby was both exhausting and wonderful. On Saturday afternoon, Tom brought his mother, Virginia, and his sisters, Faith and Emma, to the apartment to see Miranda. It was the first time since Sandra moved in with him that his family visited. The three were enthralled with the baby. Tom put together a delicious meal, and they sat around his little dining table trying to eat while passing the baby around. Virginia kept dabbing her eyes.

“I never thought I would have a grandchild,” she said through her tears. Tom and Sandra looked at each other, worried.

“Mom, we aren’t even sure we are going to be able to keep her. Just because Steve took off doesn’t mean he isn’t going to come back in a month to claim her.”

His mother looked at him like he was insane. “You’re a policeman! Don’t let him do that,” she exclaimed.

Emma spoke right up. “Tommy, Mom’s right. You guys need to get an attorney right away.” She looked over at Sandra. “Who’s the next of kin?”

“Would it be Nelda or Pam? Grandmother or aunt?” Sandra shrugged her shoulders. She just didn’t know.

“I think the grandmother is the next of kin,” Faith said. “I’m going to do some research tomorrow when I get to work.” Faith worked for a city-owned social service agency that housed the poor; someone there would know about abandoned children.

Suddenly, Sandra put her hands up to her face. “Oh, my God! What am I going to do about work Monday if Steve doesn’t return? I just thought of it,” she said, looking around the table. “I must be crazy. I completely forgot about work.”

Without missing a beat, Virginia spoke. “If you’ll let me, I’d love to babysit,” she offered.

Emma nodded her head and reminded them that she worked the afternoon shift. “I’m home during the morning, so I can help her,” she said. “We have to get a crib and high chair, though. Where do you get those things anymore?”

“Well, that settles that,” Tom said. “I’ll go right now up to Toys Galore. ‘We have everything you need for a baby!’” he quoted. The family laughed. “Mom, do you want to watch her now? Come on, ladies, let’s go before they close.” Sandra went over what little routine she’d made up for Miranda, showing Virginia where bottles were made and diapers were kept.

“We won’t be gone that long,” she said. Tom nudged her, nodding toward his sister and mother as they fussed over the baby.

“Sisters, if you’re coming with us, get the lead out,” Tom said. Sandra got her purse and then went to Virginia and embraced her while she was holding the baby.

“Thank you so much, Mrs. Adams. You have no idea how much your offer means to me.” Virginia hugged her back and kissed her cheek.

“Come on!” Tom admonished. They left the apartment as a group, the women babbling, while Virginia stood holding the baby and waving from the window.

The beach house was occupied by two people who planned to play house all weekend. Pam left her routine at the door along with her modesty. She never worried for a second how she looked or if she’d regret what she was doing.

Friday night, they didn’t get back to Pam’s house from dropping baby things off at Sandra’s house until after midnight. Pam slipped her shoes off in the hallway and kicked them aside.

“I’m starving and thirsty. What about you?” she asked Dan.

He was clearly in awe of the house, standing at the window looking at the water as moonlight reflected on the waves. “You should’ve said something,” he replied. “I could’ve stopped on the way back here.” She opened the refrigerator and got out a bottle of wine.

“Can you open this?” she asked, handing him a corkscrew. “I can throw something together for us.” She took cheese, cold cuts, and a veggie tray out and put together a nice spread for a midnight snack. Dan had taken off his jacket, and Pam tried to keep from staring at his muscular body, obvious through the thin fabric of his linen shirt. As they prepared their drinks and snacks, the chemical attraction distracted both of them. Finally, Pam put her knife down and starting laughing.

“Do you think you can go stand over there for a minute?” she asked. Dan laughed with her and put the bottle of wine down on the counter. He grabbed her upper arms, feeling the muscles through her skin, looking into her eyes.

“Do you think that will help?” he asked. “Because I don’t think it will help me at all.” She reached her arms up around his neck, and they started kissing each other. In a minute, they stopped, holding each other for a bit.

Pam couldn’t help herself and became a little tearful. “Oh, boy, this is a fine way to act,” she said. He patted her back, comforting her. “Me, too, if it’s any consolation.”

Pam looked into his eyes. She was suddenly frightened to see that he was serious about her, and his passion for her matched what she felt for him, something she never thought she’d feel for anyone again. Not after Jack.

“Let’s get something to eat, OK? We have to get some sleep tonight since tomorrow I have to rearrange my mother’s life, and that of my dead sister’s baby.” Taken aback by her sarcasm, Dan didn’t respond to it, obvious that she’d reached her limit of caretaking others. That she was free to share her deepest feelings with him thrilled him. He had a feeling transparency was rare for Pam. They took their food and wine into the den. Pam left all but the lowest recessed lights off so their eyes would stay used to the dark. They were able to see out the window and watch the wild waves. She pointed to a ship far out at sea, its lights barely visible in the distance. And then for some odd reason, she started to reminisce about her father, about how hard he’d worked all of his life. As his oldest daughter, she had worried about him constantly. Although she meant no malice toward her mother, recently having accepted that her own parenting wasn’t much better, Pam confessed that she covered for her mother back in her youth so that her father wouldn’t worry. She was her mother’s helper, housekeeper, and shopper. Nelda gave in to alcoholism after her last daughter was born, but either Frank Fabian didn’t recognize it or he was in denial.

As an adult, Pam knew all about denial. Dan asked questions that kept her talking, sensing that she was telling stories that she’d never revealed before. A poignant memory was of waking up in the middle of the night when she was eleven to the sound of her father sobbing. She had opened her eyes, knowing the sound was not meant for her to hear. She quietly got out of her bed and tiptoed to the door of her room, careful not to wake her sisters. When she reached her parents’ room, the smell of vomit reached her nose. She saw her mother lying on the bed in her housedress and heels, her arm thrown across her face. Frank was sitting on the edge of the bed. Pam could feel hopelessness radiating from him. As she turned to go back to her bedroom, defeated because there was nothing she could do to help him, her grandmother, Genoa Fabian, placed a firm hand across her mouth and pulled her into the stairwell that led up to her apartment on the third floor.

“If you sneak around at night, my dear granddaughter, you are going to see things you shouldn’t see. You know that, correct?” She was sitting on the steps and had Pam standing in front of her. She smoothed Pam’s hair back and flicked an errant tear away.

“I could hear Daddy crying,” Pam explained.

Genoa pursed her lips. “He feels sad that he can’t help your mother. She drank too much tonight and is sick, and your daddy wants to fix her. Do you understand what alcoholism is?” she asked. Pam shook her head. “Alcoholics drink because they need the feeling it gives them. They are powerless to control it. So, for some reason, your mother needs the alcohol.” She looked into Pam’s eyes, knowing it was a lame explanation—the child had just seen her mother covered in her own vomit.

“It’s not your fault, dear. If you understand that one fact, it will be much easier for you. Unfortunately, people get labeled in this town, so that’s why it’s such a big, dark secret. Truthfully, probably more of the mothers drink too much than we know.” She stood up and carefully opened the door, peeking out to make sure the coast was clear. She bent down to whisper in Pam’s ear.

“Tomorrow, give your mom a little extra love, OK?” Pam nodded her head, and Genoa pushed her out into the hall. “Go right back to your room.” Pam hurried along the corridor and went back into her room, closing the door carefully. She made it her duty to shield her sisters from the knowledge that Nelda was a drunk, to protect her father when she was able, and to give her mother “extra love.” It would precipitate a lifetime of enabling.

Pam drank the last of her wine. She didn’t mean to have monopolized the conversation.

“Now you know more about me than my husband did, and we were married for over thirty years.” She laughed, adding, “That’s another story for another time.”

Dan put his glass down and pulled her over to him. “You are tough,” he said. “I’ll bet that’s not an adjective many people use to describe you.” She shook her head.

“I’m thought of by my husband’s family as a wimp. My own mother admonished me for not standing up for what was rightfully mine, yet it was largely due to her treatment of me that I was so submissive. And then I hurt my children. I was reminded quickly not to point fingers,” she said. “So now that you know the story of my life, do you want to get a word in?”

They were squeezed together in the leather chair by the window. “My life is an open book,” Dan said. “My parents were older when I was born, so my siblings had a hand in raising me. They protected me and praised me. I guess I don’t have any complaints. But listening to you, I think you were the same kind of parent. I don’t believe that you didn’t worship your kids.”

“Don’t get me wrong. Both Jack and I adored our children. But he was screwing my sister in the next room over from theirs and evidently, the kids knew it all along. I had to be aware that something was amiss, yet I chose to turn my back. The damage it did to my children—well, only time will tell.” She turned to the side to look at his face, putting her hand up to his cheek. “You have the goods on me now. I have been so secretive about all of this garbage. I mean, who wants to listen to it?”

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