Soulmates (29 page)

Bernice was playing rummy under an umbrella with Arnold Hamer, a man she’d met at the dance, not having a one-night as of yet, but working toward it.

“Your friends are an interesting group,” Arnold said facetiously. He was a handsome eighty- year -old with a full head of white hair and a bushy white mustache. Although he walked with a cane, he stood straight and proud, and when he and Bernice walked along the promenade, heads turned with admiring glances. They would attract attention wherever they went together.

Bernice chuckled. “They are actually quite wonderful,” she said, smiling. “Nelda saved my life.”

“Tell me how that came about,” Arnold asked, sincerely interested.

“I was starting to lose my memory. It was terrible; I’d forgotten so much I was unable to live alone anymore. Looking back, I know my problem was depression. I’d lost my husband and a year later, my son. Nelda made existing worthwhile. She’s so full of life, yet she’s been through so much pain and anguish herself, you’d never know it. Never once did she judge me even though I earned it.”

“It sounds to me what you have in Nelda is a true friend,” Arnold asked, adding softly, “A soulmate.”

“I like that! But I’m willing to bet that if you told Nelda that was what we were, she’d laugh in your face.” He nodded, understanding, while on the chaise, Nelda inconspicuously lifted her hand to wipe away a tear.

***

The funeral arrangements; Jeff’s would be in Babylon on Friday…at the
other
place in town, and Aaron’s was in Philadelphia on Saturday. Jason was despondent, and no one blamed him. Although the doctors cautioned him to sign back into the hospital afterward, he would not.

Son Bill arrived from Alaska Wednesday night and took over doing vigil for Jane Thursday. “I didn’t know what to expect, but it definitely wasn’t that wizened little old man lying in bed with the covers up over his head. I was just there for the wedding ten days ago. What the hell happened?”

“Losing a kid does it to a parent,” Jane said. “When they took the breathing tube out on Monday, he looked good, but that night we got permission to tell him about Jason and Uncle Jeff. Standing Pam up was under a pile of crap. I had to remind him he did it.”

“Ugh, I can’t believe he didn’t remember. I feel so horrible about Aaron. We weren’t best friends, but he was my brother just the same.” He turned to wipe away a tear.

“I know what you mean. Louise is having a rough time. If Jason was close to anyone, it was Louise.”

“I hope she doesn’t deliver her kid on Saturday. That would really suck.”

“Let’s just get through tomorrow,” Jane said. “I can’t believe we have to drive all the way to Long Island. I didn’t even like Uncle Jeff that much.”

Natalie called Pam Thursday morning to tell her the funeral was Friday. “I wasn’t sure until this morning because his body was just released. He had an autopsy; advanced cardiac disease and cirrhosis.”

“I can’t believe it! He only drank wine.”

“Who knows
what
it was from,” Pam said, remembering nights where they would open two or three bottles of wine and she’d have her customary glass or two. Maybe Jeff did drink more than others were aware, but she wasn’t going to tattle, the final loyalty offered him.

“I guess winos can die from cirrhosis,” Natalie said.

“I’m so sad. Jeff made it fun to live here. He was a class act.”

Thursday morning, Dan decided to work from home since he didn’t have any court cases. Lisa was preparing for her shopping trip, looking forward to having coffee with Cara again at the grocery store when he announced he was staying home.

“Do you want some company while you shop?” Lisa turned her back to look for a mate to an earring, grimacing.

“No, that’s okay. You stay here with the children. I like to take my time and follow my list.”

“You and that damn shopping list,” he said sarcastically. “You’re as anal about grocery shopping as you are about everything else.” Without waiting for a response, he walked out of the bedroom. She wanted to lash out, call him a name, but even Dan couldn’t dampen her enthusiasm for the trip. In less than a week, she and Cara had bonded as tightly as if they were sisters. Every afternoon as soon as Lisa could get away from the demands of her family, she called Cara’s yellow wall phone.

“Hey, what are you up to?” Lisa would ask, and Cara would relay the events of the day, telling her about job interviews she’d gone to, all appointments Dan’s receptionist setup for her.

“I have a little man who can’t wait until Friday to see you,” Lisa would say, thrilling Cara with stories of Dan Junior’s baby antics, how he slept the night before, or what his nap schedule was.

She used Gladys cell phone when she made the calls so Dan wouldn’t find out if he happened to pick up her phone. Gladys, Daniela and Pam would be the only people on earth who would know the truth about Lisa and Cara Ellison until later, and they supported her and enabled her.

“What you’re doing for her is so kind, it kinda makes me cry,” Gladys said.

“I had good role models for forgiveness I guess,” Lisa said. “I hope I’m doing the right thing, because if I’m not I may have made a big mess for myself.”

“Kindness is never wrong,” Gladys said, but Lisa wasn’t so sure.

“It’s looked at as weakness by some,” she said. “I have to be very careful not to be manipulated. I don’t get the feeling from Cara at all, but you can never be sure.”

Pulling into the grocery store parking lot, Lisa saw Cara’s car and waved. They greeted each other with a hug. “You look great!” Lisa told her. “I love your hair. And that outfit is stunning.”

“I’m trying to lose weight,” Cara said. “But it’s difficult. It’s tempting to snack at night when I’m lonely.”
Tell me about it
, Lisa thought.

“Starting next week, do you want to get together and start walking? I can meet you in Babylon. Our attorneys need to get together to make sure we can meet without jeopardizing your custody request. As soon as we have our first visit tomorrow, then everything can be out in the open.”

“I appreciate what you are doing for me, Lisa. I wish there were some way I could show you. You are the first girlfriend I’ve had in a long time. It’s so nice.”

“Me, too,” Lisa said. “I’ve never had a lot of friends and now that I have a family, I don’t have many at all.”

“When I did pageants I was always on guard because I didn’t know who I could trust. If you can’t trust, friendship can’t grow. It prepared me to be alone all the time.”

“Well, I hope to prove you can trust me. And I have to trust you because you’ll be raising our little cutie.”

After they hugged and caught up since the evening before, they walked into the store together, like old friends.

***

Preparing to leave the hospital, Jason didn’t feel any physical pain his grief was so profound. Talking to a representative from the police department, he was aware they might charge him with homicide by watercraft. The driver and his passenger in the other boat were both alive but in bad shape. Their lawyer was already in touch with Jason’s who was a referral from the attorneys his former medical practice used for malpractice cases. Pacing, waiting for Bill to come back from the business office with his discharge papers, Jason longed to talk to Pam. He must have been out of his mind when he left her at the altar.

“Dad, let’s go,” Bill said from the doorway. Jason was leaning against the window, looking down at the parking lot.

“I need to call Pam,” he said.

“You can do it from the car. I’d like to beat rush hour, so let’s get moving.” Jason followed his only surviving son down the hall to the elevator. It opened to their floor, and the instant Jason stepped in he started to cry. Bill grabbed him and held him until they got to the ground floor, other passengers feeling their grief.

“Can you walk to the car?” Bill asked. Jason nodded, just wanting to get away from the hospital. He didn’t know the specifics of Aaron’s death if he died instantly or at the hospital, if he died from the impact or drowned. Soon, he’d make a decision that he didn’t want to know, didn’t
have
to know because he alone was responsible for his son’s death. If it went to trial, he assumed they’d shove the details down his throat.

They made it to the car and when Jason slid in, he started to cry again. Steering carefully through traffic, Bill handed his cell phone over when he’d calmed down enough to talk. Dialing Pam’s number felt foreign, like something he hadn’t done for a long time. She was laughing when she picked up, and Jason could hear her finishing a conversation before she said hello.

“Pam its Jason,” he said, keeping his voice steady. There was a brief pause.

“Jay, I won’t ask how you are. I’m so sorry about your accident. About Aaron. I wish things were different.” Jason roared in anguish.

“Me, too! Oh God. Pam I don’t think I was in my right mind last week. Please forgive me for the wedding,” he sobbed. “That was awful, unforgivable probably, but I’m going to try anyway. Will you give me another chance? I know I don’t deserve it, but I’ll do anything to make it up to you.”

Bill tapped him on the shoulder and mouthed
What the fuck, Dad?
But he needn’t have worried because Pam wasn’t biting.

“Jason, it’s horrible about what happened to Aaron.
I’m so sorry.
But you and I are
through
.” Something snapped within Jason when she said Aaron’s name, involving his death in their messy split-up, and the unfairness that she wouldn’t give him another chance.

“Great! I’ll just call Sandra if I want sympathy,” he said and hung up. Pam stood with the phone in her hand for a minute before it registered what had just happened.

“Dad, what the fuck!” Bill repeated. “Are you crazy? How could you say that to her?”

John came in off the veranda. With the phone still in her hand, Pam looked at him and shook her head. “Are you okay?” he asked.

“You will never believe what my ex-former fiancé just said to me.” But before she could tell him, she got the giggles. “It’s not even funny. It’s tragic, actually. The man is deranged. He’s just experienced the worst thing a human being can go through.” She told him what he said and John patted her on the back.

“Sorry for the man’s loss, but good riddance. You never have to feel guilty about him again.”

“I wish it was as easy as that. He’s at the beginning of his own personal hell.” She put the phone down and took John’s arm. Back on the veranda, the approaching night wasn’t favorable for bonfires or grilling outdoors, a repeat of the intermittent storms they’d had that week. Digging for the gas fire pit key out of its hiding place, she turned the gas on, the bright blue flames reflecting off the glass pebbles. “It will be the fall soon. On evenings like this, I can feel it. The air smells like apples. Lisa said they were cutting hay at Dan’s family farm. This summer has been a wash, except for meeting you.” John pulled her close and kissed her forehead.

“I wonder what Jason’s future looks like. I read that the prosecutor is investigating possible criminal intent. That sure can’t make it any easier.”

“How awful,” Pam said. “I hope they don’t press charges. How can they say he pulled in the way of a speed boat to purposely kill his own flesh and blood?”

“He probably wishes he was dead right about now.”

“I’m sure of it,” Pam said sadly. “Since Brent died, I sometimes wish I could take my own life. But I couldn’t leave Lisa alone.”

“I’m so sorry. What do you do to feel better?” John asked, frightened, squeezing her hand.

“I just breathe through it until it passes.” She didn’t tell him she often went to the gym to run on the treadmill until she was ready to collapse. Getting home was an effort after one of those workouts. She stumbled over the threshold and locked the door behind her, going right to the shower where she’d stand under the hottest water she could tolerate and cry until she felt it was over for now. Afterward, she’d go to Lisa’s house for the rest of the day, her daughter aware of the grief, pain evident on her face. Gladys would offer her food as often as she could without making Pam suspicious; she’d lost so much weight they were worried about her.

She’d spend the afternoon sitting on the floor in the den surrounded by small children. They were so cute, their little voices and soft little bodies, it was impossible to hug one and not feel some relief. Pam and Miranda grew close, Pam so glad she was with Lisa now, yet another thing to feel guilty about leaving her with Sandra. Even Cara Ellison’s little boy won over Pam’s heart.

As evening approached and Dan was on his way home from work, Pam would gather her belongings and leave. On the days he worked from home, she found other ways to cope. Getting Nelda and Bernice to come out with her took effort she often didn’t have the strength for, but occasionally when everything lined up perfectly, they’d pull it together for her. The most fun times happened when they’d go to Shore Pizza and have something out of the ordinary to eat. Afterward, they’d meet in the middle night looking for a bottle of antacid.

“One foot in front of the other. Thankfully, I have my family. Jason has his, too. His daughter should be ready to deliver his grandchild any second. That will bring joy back into his life.”

The next day was Jeff’s funeral. Pam woke up with a headache; she must have been crying in the night, her eyes swollen.

“Great, I look awful. Sorry Jeff,” she said, grimacing at her reflection. Jeff’s viewing started at eleven. John arrived with coffee at ten, dressed in a suit.

“Wow, you look dashing,” she said, admiringly, his presence taking away the worst of the pain.

“I clean up nice, don’t I?” he teased, fussing with his cuffs. “I have one suit and two white shirts; that are in style, I have to add.”

“That’s all it takes.”

“We never confirmed we’d go to Philadelphia tomorrow.” Pam sipped her coffee, thinking.

“I would be a distraction, I think. I’m so sorry for Jason and I’ve conveyed that to him. But since our conversation yesterday, I believe I’ve been exonerated from having to attend.”