The Tao of Pam (15 page)

“Okay, I’ll check into it when you go back. I’m glad you spoke up, though. I can’t read your mind.”

“Why not?” Nelda said, laughing. She went over to the counter. “What are you doing? Can I help with lunch?”

Pam directed her to put the trays of food from the caterer out on the dining table. She didn’t want hordes of people crowding the kitchen.

“Let’s try to keep all your grandchildren outside on the veranda, if possible. Then I can hose off the mess after they eat.”

Nelda looked up at Pam. “Maybe this should be the last of the Memorial Day picnics,” she said softly.

“Maybe it will be. I used to enjoy having my sisters here, but now I’m wondering why.” Just as she spoke, three adolescent boys ran through the kitchen, chasing each other with sticks.

“Boys, take it outside,” Nelda yelled. One of the kids stuck their tongue out at her, shocking Nelda.

“I rest my case,” Pam said.

“Well, I’m not putting up with it,” Nelda said. After she put the tray of sandwiches on the table, she went to the doorway of the veranda. Her daughters Susan and Sharon were sitting side by side, facing the sea, chatting while their kids ran wild.

“Susan, Bobby stuck his tongue out at me just now.”

“He did not!” Susan said.

“Oh yes, he did,” Nelda said. “Pam saw him. Either you control them or I will.”

Susan got up, glancing at Sharon and rolling her eyeballs. “Where is he?”

“Running through the house, like I said,” Nelda said. “Your kids aren’t much better, Sharon, so the two of you can stop rolling your eyeballs.”

“I never did such a thing,” Sharon said. “Mother, you’re imagining it.”

“I am not,” she said. “I can’t say a word to either of you without the same disrespectful response.”

Sharon got up and went to Nelda, putting her arms around her. “Mother, I’m sorry you feel disrespected. Which of my monstrous children are causing trouble now?”

“Benjamin,” Nelda said. “He was chasing Bobby with a stick.”

Sharon moved past her mother and went into the house to deal with the kids. Pam was still standing at the counter, mixing a salad. Even with food brought in, taking care of all these people was turning out to be more than she wanted to do. Next time, if there
was
a next time, she’d hire full-time kitchen help for the whole weekend and not just the day of the picnic.

“Pam, sorry my kids are causing trouble.”

“It’s not only the kids,” Pam said, hinting. “I’d like you and Susan to take over feeding your own from now on. I’ll have the food ready, but they need some supervision at mealtime. That delicious-looking breakfast casserole you made ended up in the trash because some kid decided to throw up in it.”

“Oh my God! I am so sorry. Who’s sick?” she said, looking around the kitchen for her kids.

“There’s an ocean and a mile of beach out front; get everyone outside after lunch,” Pam said.

“Okay, no problem,” Sharon replied, taken aback that her sister was not only admonishing her, but telling her what to do and all with attitude. Maybe she’d curtail her visits to the beach in the future.

Nelda observed Pam from a distance; her daughter had taken on a more assertive personality, and it was refreshing to see her in action. The sisters gathered their children on the veranda to sit at the large table, supervising as they ate lunch. “As soon as Bob gets back from their golf game, we’re leaving,” Susan said, whispering.

“Oh, don’t do that,” Sharon replied. “In all fairness, we
should
be keeping a closer eye on what these brats are doing.”

“Don’t call my kids brats, Sharon. They are just boys. If Pam didn’t want them in the house, she only had to ask. The comment she made suggesting it was the parents at fault still rankles.”

“Tell me about it,” Susan replied. “I picked up on that, too.” The women stood side by side, whispering.

Nelda approached them. “I see what you two are up to,” she said softly. “Don’t ruin a nice weekend at the beach because your pride is getting in the way.”

It was Sharon’s turn to roll her eyes.

“Mother, how on earth do you, of
all
people, think you can advise about parenting,” Susan said.

“I raised four successful children!” Nelda said at the top of her voice. “Marie was self-supporting for all of her adult life, so I can count her, too. When
your
children are grown and employed and living happy lives independently, you can come back to me and have this conversation.”

“We raised ourselves,” Susan said, sneering. “And if it wasn’t for Pam, Marie would have never made it out of babyhood.”

“Susan!” Pam rushed in and put her arm around Nelda’s shoulder. “You have no idea what you’re saying. Mother, I apologize for all of this.” She looked up at her sisters, two grown women whose childhood angst had waited for this moment to surface.

“I think you both should apologize right now, or pack up your belongings and get out of my house. As a matter of fact, I want you to do so regardless. You can wait for your husbands on the stoop. I’ve had it up to here,” she put her hand at her eyebrow, “with you both and your ill-behaved children. I’ve asked you several times over the past twenty-four hours to get some control, and you either laughed it off or ignored me. I’m tired of your whispering and smart-aleck comebacks.”

There was dead silence. No one had ever heard Pam speak with so much assertiveness. It was true, she had asked her sisters to get their children under control, and they ignored it.
Isn’t that what being at the beach was all about? Playing and having fun?

Sharon stepped forward. “I’m so sorry. You’re right, of course. Please forgive me. And Mother, once again, I am truly sorry.”

But it was too late for Nelda. The comments had wounded her to the quick. Her daughter was only repeating what she’d been telling herself for the past year, ever since Marie died. She had only herself to blame for the heartache. Nelda shook her head and turned to go to the children’s wing, her hands over her face. Pam grabbed her arm, still in denial about the responsibility her mother carried for her own precarious situation.

“Mom, don’t go. Let’s talk this out,” she said. But Nelda had had enough.

“No, I want to go back to the city,” she said petulantly. “If I’m going to be treated like this by my own daughters, there’s no reason for me to stay.”

“Well, I refuse to let you go,” Pam said. She looked at her sisters, anger at their selfishness difficult to suppress. She looked at the table, at her nephews watching the drama unfold.

“All of you tell Noni how sorry you are for acting with disrespect.” When no one responded, she yelled, “Now!”

They chorused in unison, “We’re sorry, Noni.”

One little boy, Sharon’s youngest, got up from the table and went to Nelda with his arms outstretched. “I’m sorry, Noni,” he said. “I love you.”

She bent down and kissed him. “I guess you’re the only one,” Nelda said sadly.

The rest of the boys rose from the table, the scraping of chairs on the slate the only sound as they went to her and hugged her. Pam smiled at the response. So maybe they weren’t such brats after all.

Chapter 11

Natalie was going through the few things she’d packed for a summer in the woods, not finding a thing to wear that was suitable for dinner out with a man.

“This is awful,” she said.

“Grim is more like it,” Deborah said. “But I have an idea.” She pulled a peasant blouse out of the suitcase that she’d seen her mother wear before and with a tightening of bra straps, a necklace to accent her cleavage and a denim skirt, she’d be fine. Natalie submitted to Deborah’s care. She watched her face transformed into the almost-pretty, and her wild hair tamed with a ponytail holder. Curling tendrils of hair in front of her ears accentuated the dangling earrings Deborah had loaned her.

“I’m not sure about the curls,” Natalie said. “I look like Hasidim.”

Deborah stepped back and put her hands on her knees, opening her mouth for a yodel of a laugh. “You do not!” she insisted.

“Yes, I do. Maybe not so much hair, you think?”

Deborah tucked some of it behind her ears. “Is that better?”

Natalie tilted her head from side to side.

Ted came to the door just then. “What’s going on in here, you two? We thought someone was choking to death.”

Deborah told him what Natalie had said. “What do you think, Dad?” she asked.

Ted came in the room and looked at Natalie critically. He reached out for her hand and pulled her up. “Let’s see,” he said, turning her from side to side. Then he dropped to his knees, grunting on the way down. “You are beautiful, Natalie. I’m honored to have had a child with you,” he said sincerely.

“Oh, get up,” Natalie said, blushing, but she was touched. She pulled on his hand to help him stand again. He’d never acknowledged in any public way that he had found her even remotely attractive.

Deborah was watching the two of them interacting, and it made her happy. She had hoped that her conception had resulted from more than a drunken one-night stand, and they’d given her a glimpse into their coupling at that moment.

“What’s going on in here?” Ashton said, coming into the bedroom without knocking. “Oh, how nice,” he sneered, not at all pleased with the scene he walked in on, with Ted holding Natalie’s hand, obviously flattering her. “The mutual admiration society.”

“Tell Mom how nice she looks, Ashton,” Deborah said firmly.

“Very nice,” he replied, looking her up and down. “I could do a better job with her makeup.”

“Ashton! For Christ’s sake,” Ted exclaimed. He squeezed her hand as she helped pull him up from his knees. “I’m so sorry. Your makeup is wonderful, Nats. You look gorgeous.”

Ashton sniffed. “She needs her eyes highlighted more,” he said, determined.

“I’m not very good with eyes,” Deborah said. “Mom, sit down and let him fix your eyes.” Deborah saved the day.

“So does this mean you’re not leaving for the city?” Natalie asked.

“Stop talking. It makes your eyes move,” Ashton said.

“If Ashton can control his behavior, we’ll stay,” Ted said. “But only if he can act like a gentleman.”

“You need to show some respect,” Ashton replied haughtily.

“I just need to know if I can trust everyone to be polite when Ben comes back to get me tonight.”

“You have our word. Doesn’t she, Ashton?” Ted replied.

Ashton sniffed. “I’m not going to answer that.”

“Maybe I better have Zach take me into town, then,” Natalie said. “I don’t want to take any chances. Ben is the chief of police, after all.”

“So what? What’s he going to do? Arrest me for being rude?”

Natalie batted his hand away. “Get away from me, Ashton. I’ll do my own eye makeup.”

“I’m just teasing you,” he said.

“Well, knock it off,” Natalie said. “I’m serious about this. If you can’t act like an adult, Zach will drive me into town. And if you don’t want Zach driving me into town because you rented the damn car, I’ll walk. You can’t control my legs.”

“You don’t need to do that,” Ashton said quietly. “Let me finish your eyes, okay? You look like a one-eyed raccoon.”

“I thought you were cooking tonight and that’s why you went into town in the first place. What’s with having pizza for dinner?” Ted asked.

“I changed my mind. This is my vacation, too. I don’t feel like cooking.”

“Whatever. Well, I’m going to finish watching the game.” Ted left the bedroom.

Deborah picked up a nail file and lay down on Natalie’s bed. She was irritated with Ashton and started goading him.

“So Ashton, care to explain why you’re being so hostile? You’re almost acting jealous of Mom.”

He stopped working, holding an eye shadow brush away from Natalie’s face. “I feel unappreciated,” he said, emphasizing unappreciated.

“Oh, well, I’m sorry about that. Do you feel that when we ask you to cook for us, or to treat us to picnic lunches, or do Mom’s eye makeup, that we take that for granted?”

He put his hand down. “I know what you’re getting at,” he answered, his voice lilting. “I do those things out of the goodness of my heart, so I shouldn’t have any expectations.”

“That’s correct. I don’t remember any one of us every asking you to do anything. It’s very passive aggressive to do things for people and then, when they don’t fall for your manipulation, to get angry with them.”

“Who am I manipulating?” he said, getting loud.

Natalie pulled away from his hand. “Don’t get near my eyes if you’re going to start fighting.”

“Me, my mother, Zach. My dad invited us up here, and you decided to tag along at the last minute. Then, when my mother makes plans, you get all bent out of shape because she won’t be available for one evening to sit around, building your ego.”

Ashton threw the brush on the dresser. “I’m leaving. You can fuck off, both of you.” He took off out of the room, banging the door.

“I think I might have gotten rid of him for good that time,” Deborah said.

“Was that your plan all along? Help me with my right eye, then, will you, please? I don’t know what he’s done here.”

Deborah stood over her and attempted to duplicate the eye on the other side. “When my father discovers Ashton told us to fuck off, he might take a second look at his life partner.”

Natalie took her wrist. “What are you saying?” she whispered. “Are you trying to break them up? I think it’ll take more than a fight between the two of you. And you shouldn’t mess with their relationship.”

“Mom, he told me he’s tired of Ashton. That’s all I’m saying. Who wouldn’t be? He’s awful. I can’t stand being around him half the time. His snide remarks about everything are wearing thin. If I have to choose between seeing my father or not because of Ashton, of course I’m going to see my father. But it will be under duress each time unless some changes are made.”

“Does Ted know your feelings?” Natalie was stunned. She’d never spoken ill of Ashton to Deborah and thought her animosity against him was singular. To discover others felt the same way was frightening because it gave it validity.

“I can’t see him divorcing Ashton because we aren’t getting along with him.”