Pam was looking out over the ocean.
Fucking Jack. What a royal jerk! A felon, for Christ’s sake!
She turned around.
What can I say to my sister that would matter? What can I say that would matter to anyone?
“Marie, I am sorry. I should have known. I should have put a stop to it. I’m sure the reason it continued was that he was controlling you. I don’t blame you.” She walked around the table and put her arm back around her sister. She probably needed some therapy—big time.
What an awful relationship!
It would paralyze a person, that kind of perversity. No wonder she had an eating disorder. She looked over at Sandra who didn’t seem fazed by it. “Can you believe this?” Pam asked of her.
“What else can happen to you?” was all she could say.
Pam had to think quickly. Certainly, the weekend could not progress as planned. And it was too late to think about either woman leaving for Manhattan until Saturday.
What to do?
She could let things take their course, go on as planned, serve dessert, keep talking. Her head was buzzing. Another slap in the face. She wanted to be alone to think about each time she feared there might be abuse being committed under her roof.
How was I able to convince myself otherwise?
She confronted Jack again and again: “What is going on when the two of you are out? I don’t like the touching, the hugging,” she would tell him. He laughed her off. “You are imagining it,” he would say.
Year after year, he was abusing her sister, with intercourse, not just fondling.
Didn’t Marie say herself that he came to her bed?
Pam closed her eyes for a moment. They made love almost every weekend.
Was he leaving the marriage bed to go to his teenage sister-in-law for sex?
And then she wondered something that had bothered her for years, something she never gave voice to then and wouldn’t now. But she said out loud in her mind,
He always satisfied her first
, and then would proceed,
did he actually come?
She was so naïve.
Was it possible he wasn’t finishing?
She detested this type of mind play. He was a filthy pig.
Why rationalize it? What difference did it make now?
But her flesh wanted details—the how, when, and where of deceit.
Marie was pulling herself together. She sat quietly at the table, aware that it was over; there was no need to hide anymore. Finally, her side of the story was out. And Pam believed her.
Pam, sweet, gentle Pam.
Sandra sat silent, taking it all in.
What was this family?
she thought to herself.
What a horrible, perverse mess.
She put her hand over her belly, thinking,
Thank God he was dead. He wouldn’t put a finger on this baby.
Finally, after two weeks of grief, she felt vindicated. He was dead because he was too sick to be alive. Marie would have never disclosed her secrets otherwise. She said he had stopped sleeping with her when Sandra came along.
How could I know for sure?
“I think we need to be honest about everything now. Pam? Are you behind me in this?” Sandra asked.
“Now is probably the worst time!” She was incredulous that Sandra would bring that up in front of Marie. Marie was alert now, smelling out more intrigue. What could be worse than what she just revealed?
“What? What? I want to know, for God’s sake! Was he molesting his own kids?” she yelled.
“No! Jesus Christ, Marie, stop it! Of course not!” She had no way of knowing if this was true, but she wasn’t about to open that can of worms.
“I’m pregnant!” Sandra said, sitting up ramrod straight, defying anyone to stop her from stating the truth. “I’m about four weeks along.” Marie was staring at her, her mouth open and eyes wide.
“You’re lying,” she said. Sandra laughed.
“I’m sorry, Marie, but it’s true. You are going to be an aunt again. I hope you’ll agree to be in the baby’s life!” Pam and Marie continued to stare at Sandra but say nothing.
She had to be nuts!
Finally, Marie let loose.
“You have got to be kidding me! You’re going to have it? How fucking selfish can one human being be? I told you she was a snake!” Marie said to Pam. At that point, Pam stepped in, placing her hand on Marie’s arm.
“That’s not our business, Marie. We have to allow Sandra to do what she needs and support her.”
Marie shook her off. “No, I disagree. You want another shocker? I had two abortions—Jack’s babies. He wouldn’t hear of it. Once when I was in college, at twenty, and the other four years ago, right after Christmas. When I told him I was pregnant, he went into a rage. ‘You did it on purpose!’ he screamed at me. I was afraid everyone in my dorm would hear him. ‘There is no way you are having a baby, do you hear me? Get rid of it!’ It was worse, the last one. When I started to cry, he put his hand over my mouth, like he wanted to strangle me. I couldn’t breath. ‘Stop crying!’ he shouted over and over. And he wouldn’t even allow me to recover. He came to my apartment after I had it done, after the abortion, and rammed into me. When he was done, he got up and left. I didn’t hear from him for the rest of the week. That weekend, he took off golfing in Las Vegas with Brent. I stayed in the city. I think I told you I wanted to do some Christmas shopping. Mother came and took care of me. I was so frightened; this time I got an infection. No one tells you how common that is. They make it sound like you just go in and zip zip, it’s over, baby gone. I blamed Jack for it; he practically raped me.
“Things got better after that; he was at least cordial to me. But he was still rough at night, like he was pissed off at me. I tried to get him to stop coming to me, but he would fly into a rage if I even brought it up, accuse me of being ungrateful, of using him. I got so confused that I believed him. We did more physical stuff together—golfing, tennis, swimming. He seemed okay about everything, not so angry.
“Finally, last year, he stopped coming to my apartment during the week, and on the weekends, he never came to my room. It may have been because we almost got caught; Lisa walked into my room just as Jack was leaving. He told her he was in the kitchen and heard me crying and thought I was having a bad dream. I’m not sure she believed him. The smell of sex hung in the air. It was pretty intense for the rest of the weekend. I thought she would go to you and tell you. Now I think he stopped because he was sleeping with Sandra, and there was no chance of anyone catching them doing it.” She finally stopped.
Pam was frozen. Sandra, white as a ghost, was disgusted. No one dared to say a word.
“Why in hell should you have his baby? Do you think he would want it? Do you think it is fair to have everyone knowing whose baby it is? Lisa? Brent? No!”
She was speaking Pam’s thoughts. But now, in the face of this latest travesty, the baby was the last thing on Pam’s mind.
Was Marie insane? Did those things really happen to her? How could she prove it?
She had to believe her husband was a moral, if not faithful, man. That he wouldn’t risk the well-being of his own children by having sexual intercourse with their aunt right next to their bedrooms. The Jack who forced Marie to have an abortion, then came to her apartment, raped her, almost choking her to death—that was not a man she knew. Sandra was looking at her with a questioning gaze. Pam shook her head no. She didn’t believe it.
Pam looked up at Marie. “I don’t believe you” was all she said.
Marie smirked. “What don’t you believe? The child abuse? The abortion? The rape? The choking? It’s true, I tell you. I have the bills from the clinic, with Jack as the responsible party. You can ask Mom. She was there for me the second time. If we can find my roommate from college, ask her! She saw Jack there, saw me hysterical. And she was there when he brought me home afterward.”
“The bills mean nothing.” Pam was shaking her head no. “He could have been helping you out of a pregnancy from someone else. And I can’t believe you would tell Nelda. She hated Jack! No wonder.”
“It’s true. Why would I lie about
something like that?” Marie was near tears again.
“No!” screamed Pam. “No! I don’t believe it! I choose to believe you are lying, that you would rather make me feel like shit about my husband because he was my husband, not yours. If you slept with him as an adult, that was your choice. You should have run from him. You should have told me then what was going on! Not wait and then when he dies and can’t defend himself, pile all of this crap on me. No!”
Sandra had crept back into the house sometime. Pam and Marie were alone out there in the dark, no candles having been lit, the sun down.
“If my husband molested you when you were a child, I truly apologize for that, for sticking my head in the sand. If you became pregnant by him and had an abortion, that must have been awful for you. But I will not have you sitting in the house that is essentially his bad mouthing him in front of a stranger because you are jealous of her! What are you thinking?”
Marie sat back down and looked up at Pam. “I loved him.” Was all she said.
“Well, it’s not about you, is it? It’s not even about me anymore. Now it is all about the baby—Jack’s baby. Sandra is going to have this child whether we approve or not. It will have the legacy of Jack as its father. Furthermore, Jack left his business to Sandra. That’s right,” responding to the look of astonishment on Marie’s face, “one more piece of news. I hope to God that the last of it was your bomb. I don’t think I can take anymore.”
Whether or not Marie heard a word her sister said remained to be seen, because the next thing she said was, “You are going to support her in this? What the hell happened to your pride?”
Pam laughed and sat down again.
Pride? You are kidding, right? What pride?
But she only said, “Yes, I am going to support her.” She got up from the chair. “I’m going to go find her to see if we can’t talk about some things I want to talk about. If you don’t want to, get up and go to your room. You aren’t dictating what the conversation is anymore.” She walked back into the house and called for Sandra.
The next morning, a haggard Pam got up out of her bed and went to the bathroom. She reached for the knob on the tub faucet and then pulled back. She was going to go without showering and doing her hair and makeup that day. She’d wash, comb her hair, and put eyeliner and lipstick on, but that was all. She was going to take the day off.
To hell with the dinner tonight.
She would order pizza if there was anyone left to eat it. She tried to remember the last time she went without makeup and could not.
Who am I primping for anyway? All the time she spent taking care of her appearance to please a man who was screwing another woman in this very house. Could it be true? Was he such a monster?
She walked out of her room into the hallway and looked out the doors that lead to the veranda. The sun was just at the horizon. It was going to be a hot, bright day. She suddenly felt like she wanted to sit on the beach. She might even wear a bathing suit and get her legs wet.
Back in the kitchen, she got the coffee pot ready. Something was happening to her. She felt comfortable in her house. The restlessness she had encountered during the past week or so was gone. She laughed at herself, thinking what a fickle woman she was!
Hearing the worst news a wife can hear and my response is peace? Fickle was a nice word for what I am!
Pam laughed out loud.
It was the weekend. She wanted to talk to her kids even though it was early. They both worked on Saturdays, so they should be up. Taking a cup of coffee back to her bedroom, as she wasn’t ready to chat with her guests yet if they were even still there, she sat on chaise overlooking the ocean and picked up the phone. She dialed Brent’s number first; he was a man of few words. Lisa would keep her on the phone longer. He answered on the first ring.
“Mom! How the heck are you?” he asked her.
Pam told him she was doing pretty well and asked when he could come back for a visit. They chatted for five minutes and then she let him go, Brent promising her that he would let her know the following week when he would come home.
Lisa was just getting up and talked with her mother while she fixed her breakfast, brushed her teeth, did her makeup, and got dressed. Pam didn’t mention any of the negative garbage that had taken place or the baby. But she fully planned on telling both kids about it when they came home next.
After Marie’s revelation the night before, Pam went to Sandra and asked her to please keep what she had heard to herself, which Sandra promised to do. Sandra said she had something important to discuss about the business, but Pam was just too raw to take one more thing in. They promised to talk before the weekend was up.
With the morning and her newfound peace, Pam was anxious to hear what Sandra had to say. She probably wished she had never come to the beach.
The truth was, Sandra was feeling more disgusted with Marie than anything else.
Her timing sucked!
The day out of the city stretched out before her. She wanted to tell Pam about an idea she had for the business, which might change a lot of the angst she was having over Jack’s decision to give it to her. She planned on lying on the beach, eating inappropriate foods, and ignoring Marie for the rest of the weekend. She came down the stairs into the kitchen after a glorious night of sleep. Nothing that had happened bothered her. She thought she may be becoming callus, but the truth was, Marie’s entire ethic was based in jealousy—jealousy of Pam and now of Sandra. It was horrible that she was molested for all those years. Sandra felt there had to be something underlying. Nothing would make it okay to molest a child, but there was something else. She wouldn’t spend time trying to uncover it this weekend, but when they got back to the city, she fully intended on finding out what it was.
She and Pam got to the kitchen at the same time, Pam ready for a second cup of coffee, Sandra going to pour her first.
“When you are ready for more brain work, I’d like to talk to you about an idea I had that would include the children in their father’s business. I know it is early for business talk.”