Soulmates (32 page)

“Why would she do such a thing?” Pam asked.
Why?

Chapter 28

Lisa opened the door for the FED EX delivery. “Morning,” the man said, tipping an imaginary hat, handing over a large brown paper envelope. She closed the door, knowing what she would learn when she opened it up. The pain in her chest was real. Acceptance of what was, the truth would not kill her. It was the effort it would take to get from point A to point B. If the information within pointed to Dan betraying her, their marriage was over.

Everyone else was doing well. Miranda was living at the beach. It just made sense.

“I should have taken her at birth,” Pam said. “But I was raw from Daddy’s death. At the time, it was never an option. It’s yet another thing I will regret the rest of my life. ” Lisa hugged her mother.

“Thank you for coming through for everyone again, Mom. I love Miranda, but I have my hands full without a chronically ill child who’s contagious. I can be honest with you about this like I cannot be with anyone else. I will still see her every day, she can play with the kids anytime, and I’ll watch her when you and John go out, but the twenty-four/seven thing has to end. I just can’t do it.”

“Lisa, you don’t need to explain to me. I get it. I have complete peace about it, and the grandmothers are thrilled.” Lisa hadn’t told Pam about her failed marriage, the evidence she was gathering for a divorce, the tension and pain she was in because of it. Gladys was wonderful, staying through it all. As soon as Big Ed retired, they were moving in with her.

Everything worked out for Lisa and Cara, too. Cara was a perfect mother. She was still trying to nurse, but it was more for comfort for mother and baby. Every day at eight in the morning, she dropped little Dan Junior off. Lisa often tried to entice Cara to stay for coffee, but she would only do so if she arrived early enough that it wouldn’t make her late for work.

Lisa quit nursing Dan Junior shortly after he went to live with Cara. “I don’t want to ruin your chances of success with this,” she told Cara. But Cara begged her to keep doing so, until Lisa pointed out that Marcus was ready to be weaned. She’d have to pump all weekend unless they could get together and Lisa was ready to move on with the next phase of motherhood that didn’t involve her breasts.

“I want you to have a life, too. If you have to keep coming over here for feedings, you’ll never move forward.”

“I really don’t
want
to move forward if it means I can’t see you every day,” she replied sadly. They hugged, and Cara left the house for work. “See you at five-thirty.” Lisa stood in the doorway and waved Dan Junior’s hand while she drove off.

Dan was happy to have Dan Junior around the house, but he was outright hostile to Cara. Lisa assumed it was because he was already spread so thin, having to give her attention would detract from where he really wanted to be, wherever that was. She walked to the table and picked up the envelope. Allowing things to stay as they were one more day wouldn’t kill her. She walked down to the den and opened a desk drawer, sliding the envelope inside, for now.

Chapter 29

Out on the beautiful veranda, Pam and Miranda sat side by side on the couch, Pam’s arm securely around the little girl’s shoulders. The sun had already set behind the house, the horizon indigo as the sun’s reflection cast shadows on the ocean. For two weeks now, since being discharged from the hospital, Miranda was living with Pam. Pam didn’t need to think twice about taking her this time; she knew it was the right thing for her and John. John loved Miranda already and the three went everywhere together like a real family.

“I know you’re not my granny,” Miranda said out of nowhere. “Noni is really my granny.” Pam gently grasped her chin and turned her face, looking into the little girl’s eyes.

“How do you know? It’s true, but who told you?” The child rattled on, proud of knowledge they didn’t know she had.

“Aunt Lisa isn’t my mommy. Sandra wasn’t my mommy, either. Granny Virginia isn’t my real granny, but she’s so nice to me, she could be.” Pam chuckled.

“Yes, that’s true. But you’re only four years old. How’d you figure that out?”

“It’s a secret. I heard them talking about it.” The child smiled cunningly.

“Miranda, what is it?” Pam asked, troubled by Miranda’s understanding.

“At the hospital.” She took a deep breath. “I know my real mommy died.”

“Yes, that’s true,” Pam replied nervously. “But we never tried to hide it from you. We always told you about your mommy, didn’t we?”

“But she was my imaginary mommy. My real mommy made me sick.” Pam’s heart did a little flip-flop, not knowing what the child was driving at and not wanting to lead her. She waited.

“Tell me about the imaginary mommy?”

“My imaginary mommy couldn’t take care of me, so I lived with Aunt Sandra and Uncle Tom.”

“But you know your mommy died, didn’t you?”

“I pretended she didn’t.” Pam nodded her head, understanding.

“What did you hear at the hospital?”

“The doctors said I got sick from my real mommy.” Awful feelings replaced the flip-flops in her heart. She would speak to an attorney as soon as their conversation was over. There might be a lawsuit somewhere in this mess.

“Tell me what you heard, only if you’d like,” Pam said. Deep in thought, Miranda looked down at her lap, her hands folded together.

“Sandra and Granny Virginia whispered, too. I thought my mommy was in a car wreck.” Frowning, Pam wondered how she could have gotten that impression. Knowing she was avoiding Miranda’s comment about
getting sick from my mommy
, she focused on the fantasy.

“Did someone tell you mommy died in that way?”

“No, but I saw it on TV. A girl had to live with her uncle because her mommy died in a car wreck.” Nodding her head, she’d have to speak to Lisa about making sure to monitor TV watching.

“You are such a smart girl,” Pam said, squeezing her. “But that’s not how your mommy died. I can tell you about it if you don’t think it will make you too sad.” Miranda shook her head.

“I
am
sad. It won’t make me sadder.” Pam’s heart broke. She pulled her closer.

“Honey, why are you sad?” Miranda choked back tears. Pam could see how strong she was trying to be.

“I wish I had my mommy. I wish I knew where she was now.”

“Oh sweetheart, I know you do! She would be so proud of you. Before you were born, when you were still inside of her tummy, she planned everything she wanted to happen for you. She was sick, but she knew all about you. Noni will tell us more when we ask her.”

“When did she die?” Pam was unfamiliar with talking to children about death. But she surmised keeping it simple and truthful and non-gory would be appropriate.

“She died right after you were born.” Knowing that some day the child might blame herself for the death, Pam made a mental note that as soon as Miranda was old enough, they would have the
removing
life-support
conversation. But not right now. Still angry that Miranda overheard doctors talking about Marie’s responsibility for her illness, Pam was taking all her leads from the child.

Miranda was pensive, and Pam waited for her to ask more questions. “So is my mommy in heaven?”

“You could say that,” Pam replied, gritting her teeth. Wishing John was present, she needed to allow Miranda her faith. The conversation she’d had with John would guide her.

“She’s with Uncle Brent and Megan’s daddy,” Miranda said.

“Did Granny Gladys tell you that?” Miranda nodded her head again.

“She said when people die they go to heaven to be with Jesus. She said Megan’s daddy was her little boy.” Not wanting to complicate matters, Pam decided it was time to steer the discussion to something pleasant before Miranda started to ask about
her
father.

“Okay, well I am going to tell you a story, okay? It’s about me and your mommy.” Miranda immediately brightened.

“Did you know I am your mommy’s big sister? Just like you are Megan’s big sister. And little Marcus and Daniel? You’re really their cousin, but you are their big sister, too.” Nodding her head vigorously
yes
, Pam felt she was on the right track. It was excruciating, but she wanted to give her niece a picture of her mother that would lead to the next phase of stories as she got older. She didn’t have to know the negative things about Marie, but she would someday know the basics.

“Noni sings me a song she used to sing to my mommy.”

“Oh, I bet I know which song it is, Tiny Bird! I used to sing it to Lisa when she was my little girl.” Pam and Miranda sang a duet softly.

“Little baby sweet and gentle,

Tiny bird flies close by,

Singing a song of love,

I’ll hold you closely, tenderly.”

“Aunt Lisa sings that to us!”

“Ah. She remembered it, then,” Pam replied, pleased. She would try to remember to sing it to little Brent, too.”

“We were very close, your mother and I. She was my
best friend
.”

“What was her name again?”

“Your mother’s name was Marie,” Pam replied shocked. When was the last time anyone talked to her about her mother?

“Marie. That’s so pretty.”

“Yes, and she was an adorable child too, just like you. As a matter of fact, you look exactly like she did at your age. She had the same curly hair, just like you. And her eyes were hazel. She was the only student who had hazel eyes in her whole grade at school and all the other little girls were jealous of her.” Miranda smiled at Pam, the comparison with her mother longed-for.

“What’s hazel?”

“Just like you have,” Pam said, looking deep into her eyes. “It’s kind of green, but sort of brown, too.” Pam thought about Marie’s eyes when she was an anorexic teenager, starving herself to death. Her eyes were gigantic, hauntingly beautiful. And before she went blind, before she went into a coma, the same thing.
The eyes, a window to the soul. If only I’d known,
Pam thought, guilt about Marie’s abuse at the hands of Jack bubbling up to choke her, yet again.

“I’m glad I look like her. Noni tells me that too.”

“Well, there you go,” Pam replied, trying to keep her focus on Miranda.

“Was she smart?”

“Marie was very smart. She graduated at the top of her class in college. She could have been a writer.”

“Did you like her?” Miranda was scrutinizing Pam’s face.

“I
loved
her, and she loved me. We were as close as two sisters could be,” Pam replied, tears spilling onto her cheeks. “She was my soulmate.”

“Soulmate? What does that mean?” Pam thought the betrayal of Marie and Jack might have crushed her if she hadn’t loved Marie as much as she did. Their love for each other transcended betrayal.

She could hear Marie’s voice.
Pam, you are always so full of shit,
and it made her have to stifle a giggle.

“Your mommy was the one person in the whole world who I trusted so completely, I knew I could tell her anything at all and she would understand. When I was with Marie, I was at peace.”

“You can tell me if you want,” Miranda said. “I’ll be your soulmate, too.” Pam reached for her and hugged her again.

“Oh, I would love that. I miss your mommy so much.” Since Marie died, Pam had no one she cared about as much. Of course, she loved her children over the top, but it was just different. No one would ever replace Marie.

“Why did my mommy die?”
Here goes
, Pam thought.

“She just got sick.”

“It’s not fair,” she said, choking up again, tears streaming down her face.

“No, it is not fair,” Pam said. “It is certainly not fair.”

***

Miranda was going to preschool. Pam, Lisa and the grandmothers shopped until she had one of every available outfit for a diminutive four-year-old. Jumping up and down with glee, she was so excited the night before her first day; Pam was worried she wouldn’t sleep.

Annabelle moved into the apartment above the garage so the third room in the children’s wing of the house would be available for Miranda. Formerly Marie’s room, they converted it into a room fit for a princess. John’s crew tore out everything and started fresh, but for a foot square piece of wallpaper Marie chose herself, which they left in place on the wall to the left of the bed. Pam bought an antique frame for the square of paper, memorialized for eternity, or until the next owners got rid of it.

“Your mommy picked out that wallpaper to cover the walls of her room right after we bought this house,” Pam explained.

“Did she live with you instead of noni?” Miranda asked.

“She was grown up by the time we came to the beach. She stayed in this very room,” Pam said, looking around. The memories were as clear as though they’d happened weeks earlier. Pam and Jack carefully planned how they would tell Marie they were moving, knowing how upset she’d be having her life turned upside down.

Marie soon fell into a routine of arriving at the beach on Saturday and staying through until Monday morning, sometimes going back into the city with Jack. After Jack’s death, when Marie confessed that she’d had a sexual relationship with Jack that spanned thirty years, Pam continued to try to love her sister and consider her a best friend. But this wasn’t information Miranda would never get, at least from Pam’s mouth.

Pam looked around the room, at the changes they’d made for Miranda and at little Miranda, who was so happy standing next to her. It was vindication enough for Pam. To have forgiven Marie completely was the only way Pam could have moved forward. Rather than feeling weak and stupid as she had in the past, the process of forgiving her sister empowered her now.

Bending over, she hugged Miranda. “I’m excited we’re together! I know your mommy would be so happy, too. I love you, Miranda.”

“I love you, too Aunt Pam.”

Chapter 30

Friday evening, sitting in the back of a limousine, Pam watched the familiar scenery fly by as they drove into Brooklyn. A year had passed since she’d last come into the city. Brooklyn wasn’t
really
the city. Feeling oddly detached, the surroundings failed to move her, and she was glad. The trip was to pick up her toddler grandson who she would have for a long weekend. The only caveat, unknown by Pam, was that nanny Valarie had forgotten to tell Sandra that Pam was on her way.