Read In Memoriam Online

Authors: Suzanne Jenkins

Tags: #Drama, #Romance

In Memoriam (24 page)

BOOK: In Memoriam
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Pam almost caught me.
There it was again, Marie blaming herself.
We spent all day Saturday on the beach with the kids, playing Frisbee and napping under the umbrella. Jack was on the veranda, talking on the phone. He motioned for me to come over. I was standing in front of him in a two-piece bathing suit when he ended the call. He put his hands around my waist and had his thumbs on my hipbones. His thumbs brushed back and forth over the bones. This is what I like, he whispered. I don’t know if Pam heard it, but she’d come out on the veranda and blurted out, Jack, what are you doing? He is so smooth. He didn’t even take his hands off my body. Look how thin this girl is! We need to feed her, he said. Well, get your hands off her, Pam replied. She didn’t act differently, wasn’t watching us any more than she usually did. But he didn’t come to my room that night.

The next day, he cancelled a golf game, and we went swimming instead. He took me out to a sandbar so far from the shore. But the water was only up to my waist, so we had to duck down to be covered. If she was watching us from the beach with binoculars, she wouldn’t be able to see anything but our backs. The warm salt water and his hands and mouth felt wonderful on my skin.

We swam back before she had a chance to get suspicious. What were you two doing out there? she asked. I was teaching her to dig for clams, he said, pulling one out of his bathing suit pocket. He handed it to her. You should have taken a bucket and gotten enough for lunch, she said, laughing.

When I took my suit off, the crotch was full of sand.

Describing in detail what Jack had done to her that night, Marie wrote how much she enjoyed it. Sandra couldn’t read any more. It was one thing to place the blame on Jack, the adult. It was altogether another thing to see the transition Marie made from abused child to willing sexual partner. But Marie continued to blame herself, not Jack.

Stashing the diary with the others, Sandra would later regret reading them. Tossing and turning until finally falling asleep at four, baby Brent woke up at six. She felt her way along the wall to get his bottle, chuckling. It was going to be a long day. Miranda woke up soon after, crawling into the rocking chair with Sandra as she fed the baby, one of the rituals of parenthood Sandra enjoyed most, one she’d almost relinquished to Virginia.

At eight, Valarie arrived. Over the next hour, Sandra would show Valarie around, giving her the use of a spare bedroom if she wanted to rest while the children napped. Sandra enjoyed the morning, focused on the care of her children and household. Valarie had a cousin who was also a childcare worker and looking to pick up extra work. The problem of a second nanny was resolved.

The weekend spread out before her, relaxing and special. Everything would fall into place for Sandra as it always had, for now.

 

Chapter 22

Virginia Adams woke up Saturday morning in tears. Life had revolved around Miranda for so long, she wasn’t sure what she was going to do with her life now that Sandra had shown her true colors.

“Mom, maybe it’s time you do something for yourself,” her daughters admonished. “You’ve taken care of us, babysat for that ingrate Sandra, and worshiped Tommy. Now it’s time to do what you want to do.”

“But I love her like she is Tommy’s flesh and blood!” She walked out of her bedroom, the words “flesh and blood” resonating.

Tommy was sleeping on the couch again while he waited for the tenants to leave his old condo in thirty days. Virginia was so hopeful when he decided to do the paternity test.

“Mom, I love Miranda, and
she’s
not mine. Maybe I have the capacity to love Thomas Brent, no matter who his father was.” But it was a pipe dream. Hearing the lab person speak the words, “There’s a ninety-nine percent certainty that you are not the baby’s father,” his fantasy fizzled out. In one swoop, the baby wasn’t his, and he was angry with Sandra again. The emotions were so raw, it was like a neon panel with the lighted words
love
and
hate
pulsating with each breath he took. He couldn’t commit to love the baby ever.

The couch was so uncomfortable; he’d barely slept all night. Virginia tried to keep the noise down while she made her morning tea, but he was already up.

“Mom, make me coffee, please,” he called.

She walked out of the kitchen, plunking down in a chair by the door. Tom smiled when he saw her. His mother was a little gnome of a woman, short and chubby, with curly hair and a little round mouth.

“I’m miserable,” she said.

“Well, knock it off,” Tom replied. “There’s nothing we can do about this. It’s my fault for getting involved with Sandra. I should’ve known from her history that she was bad news.”

“Yes, well, the problem is that I am broken hearted. You didn’t even try, Tommy. He’s a cute little boy, after all. You could have given him a chance.”

Tom laughed. “Mom, if I remember correctly, you’re the one who said he couldn’t be my kid. Your exact words about how much the baby looked like Miranda were, ‘Can you believe it? They share genes!’ You said it before anyone, even Sandra, knew!”

“Stop it, Tommy. I was in shock! My grandson wasn’t my grandson, and I knew it, and she knew it, and she was lying to you. It didn’t mean I couldn’t grow to love him. You could, too, if you tried.”

“I don’t want to try. I want a real relationship with someone who respects me, who can give me my own child.”

“Why don’t you have one with Sandra?”

Tom looked at her, but didn’t answer. Why
didn’t
he have one with Sandra? He couldn’t answer the question because he wasn’t that big a rat. No one knew the truth about Sandra. And he wouldn’t subject a child to the risks and being born with AIDS if they tried artificial insemination.

“For one thing, she already has her hands full,” he said, hoping she would drop it. “I need coffee. If you’re going to go on and on about this, I can get a hotel.”

“Don’t threaten me,” she said, getting up. “Where were you so late, anyway? I almost thought you were staying out all night.”

“I ran into a few friends at Wilbert’s. We closed the place. I haven’t done that in ten years. And now I have a headache.”

Faith walked in to get coffee. “Anyone there I might know?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact, I ran into Jenna Peterson.”

Faith looked at her mother. Jenna Peterson was one of the few girls Tom had dated who he’d brought around for them to meet. She was pretty, sweet and smart. But he didn’t date her for long.

“What ever happened with that? She was such a nice girl.”

“I don’t know. There wasn’t any pizzazz,” Tom said, laughing.

“Yeah, well, we all know what pizzazz got you this time,” Virginia said.

Tom nodded his head. They were right. “I got her phone number again. She seemed interested. Maybe I need to revisit this.”

Faith looked at her mother. “Do men really talk like this to their families?” They burst out laughing.

“Tommy does,” Virginia said. “You bring her around here again, okay?”

“Sure! Why not invite Sandra, and Daddy and Gwen if you want. We’ll have a question and answer session. Bring the kids, too! Dump all that on her right away.” He got up and headed for the bathroom. “It’s Saturday, people. Why are we up so early?”

“Just remember, they’re not your kids! You don’t have any baggage,” Faith yelled after him.

Thinking about Jenna Peterson was helping him move quickly beyond what had happened with Sandra yesterday. Jenna Peterson was the opposite of Sandra. Blond, small but voluptuous, she was an ER nurse, not an entrepreneur who inherited the business from her dead lover. Jenna didn’t have affairs with married men or children by their sons. She went to church on Sunday with her mother and father, had dinner twice a week with her big family. She was uncomplicated, funny and friendly.

After breakfast, Tom called her.

“I didn’t think I’d hear from you,” she said. “The last time we went out, I waited for a month, and you didn’t call.”

Tom was embarrassed. “Ouch,” he said. “I’m sorry about that. I guess I wasn’t ready at the time.”

“I’ll accept that explanation,” she said, laughing.

“If you’ll forgive me, I’d like to ask you out again.”

“I forgive you,” she replied.

“Great. Would you like to have coffee with me now? I thought we could walk to the zoo. It’s nice out, and I’m ready for a fun day.” They agreed he’d pick her up in an hour.

Walking out to the kitchen, he put his arms in the air in a victory dance. “You’ll be happy to know I have a date in an hour.”

“Wow, that was fast,” Virginia said. “You just broke up with Sandra last night.”

“Mother, we’ve been estranged since she got pregnant, you know that.”

Virginia turned her back to do something at the sink. Her son could be unforgiving and rigid. She was afraid he’d inherited it from her.

“We never have to talk about Sandra again. If you want to see Miranda, I’ll personally contact Pam.”

“No, I think it’s best if I move on,” Virginia said. “I don’t think I could take the stress of the drama that might make.”

Tom nodded his head.
Drama was a mild word for what Sandra was capable of. She liked to be the center of attention for sure.

“Okay, well, I’m off. Say a prayer for me. Who’s the saint for relationships?”

“Saint Raphael,” Virginia replied. “I’ll go light a candle right now.”

Tom leaned over and kissed her forehead. His mother was a kind, gentle woman. He’d hurt her by exposing her to Sandra. It would be the last time he’d risk hurting her. Jenna Peterson was mother-worthy.

Jenna lived five blocks from Virginia. They could take a cab to the zoo if Jenna didn’t want to walk. Taking two steps up at a time, he landed on her stoop exactly one hour after their call. When she answered her buzzer, he said, “Tom’s here.” Feeling corny, he decided to let it go. He was going to be himself, if he could remember who he was. Being in a relationship with someone who’d had so much to hide had made him cautious, too.

“Come on up, Tom!”

The door buzzed and clicked, and he pushed it open. It would be the first time he was in her apartment. It was an old building, the hallway cold and smelling of soup. He frowned. Maybe it was all she could afford. She was waiting at the door with a big smile. Trying not to stare at her, he couldn’t remember her being so
round.
Only five two, she had huge breasts for such a little woman.
Huge breasts and a big butt.
Her waist was tiny, and she had narrow shoulders and little hands and feet. Tom reached up and scratched his head, inhaling loudly. Her appearance threw him off guard.

“Is anything wrong?” she asked, looking down at her body, able to see that there was a
lot
wrong.

Trying not to stammer, Tom just spit it out. “I’m glad we aren’t going to the beach,” he said. “I don’t know if I could control myself.” Feeling the flush creep up his neck, he realized he may have just ruined whatever chances they had for a relationship. But a new thought arose; he’d said there was no pizzazz between them last time they were together. Now, all he
felt
was pizzazz.

To his relief, Jenna burst out laughing. “Well, I guess that’s a good thing, right? I mean, we once dated for a month, and you never even tried to kiss me.”

“I was just thinking the same thing,” he said. “What was wrong with me?”

“It just wasn’t the right time,” Jenna replied. “I’ll get my wallet.”

He looked around her apartment, smiling. It was definitely colorful, with lots of prints and vintage art. Relieved, he’d worried for a moment that her apartment would be dark and smelly like the hallway. Remembering how impressed he was with the uncomplicated decorating of Sandra’s apartment, it probably didn’t reveal anything about who she was.

“There’s a coffee shop around the corner,” she said.

After they left the apartment, Jenna took Tom’s hand, and they picked right back up where they’d left off, before Sandra.

 

Chapter 23

Still dark, Jason Bridges didn’t know where he was when he woke up early Saturday morning. The window was open; salt air and the sound of waves hitting the beach reminded him he wasn’t in Philadelphia. Lying with his eyes closed, he had the same thought he did every day. He was retired and didn’t have to be at work at dawn. All through medical school and residency and a thirty-year career, he wished he could sleep in. Now he could, and it was impossible after five.

Closing his eyes, he willed sleep to return, but it was gone for the day. Getting up, he looked around Jeff’s guest room. It was really his room now, with mementos from home, books and family photos. Pulling on loose pants and a long-sleeved T-shirt, he’d run on the beach while the sun came up.

In Philadelphia, he ran around his neighborhood along the Delaware and then west past Headhouse Square, down South Street to the Schuylkill River. Thirty years ago, it was his favorite neighborhood. He often stopped at the Phila Deli for coffee on his way back. Emily would yell at him when he got home. “How can you run for an hour and then eat chopped liver? What’s the point?” But it didn’t stop him.

There was a Subway sandwich shop there now. The funky shops and tattoo parlors were gone. The first months after Emily died, he was afraid to run. What would happen if he collapsed on the street or got hit by a car? No one would miss him until he didn’t show up at work. Eventually, the fear dissolved. After living in the same neighborhood for thirty years, he finally made friends with the people in the townhouse next door, and they kept their eye out for his return.

Running on the beach was completely different. He never thought of his children or Emily when he was out on the sand. She’d hated Long Island. They only saw Jeff when he flew to Philadelphia. The sand was brutal, working muscles he’d forgotten about since the previous summer of housesitting.

As he picked up speed in front of Pam’s house, he smiled. Lights were on, indicating she was another early bird. She was so different from Emily. Emily hit the pavement with both feet running every day. Although she didn’t need to work, she always did, saying that motherhood was exhausting and boring for her; she’d rather work and pay someone who enjoyed taking care of children. He did his own laundry and often cooked for the family, too. When she died, peace fell over the household; the energy that stirred everyone up, gone. It was horrible at first; he considered selling the house right away. But it wasn’t very long before even their children remarked that it felt like they could take a deep breath and relax. “Mom’s not around to make us
do something
.”

BOOK: In Memoriam
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