Authors: Suzanne Jenkins
Before she could escape to the gym, she heard a key in the door; right after she’d hung up on Dan, he’d left the farm and raced to the beach. Figuring it was Dan because no one else had a key, she went to meet him in the hallway.
“Are you okay?” he asked, knowing she wasn’t. “What’s going on with Brent?”
Frowning, Pam guessed she must have mentioned Brent’s name before she hung up the phone. “His girlfriend called and said he has turned into a maniac. I didn’t get what she was saying to me for a few minutes, but it came into focus before long. How could I have missed my own child’s problems? It was bad enough I ignored his father’s.”
“Just because Julie had trouble with him doesn’t mean he’s always been that way, Pam. Maybe he’s just started experimenting with alternative lifestyles. Before you’re too hard on him, let’s try to remember he’s not married yet, okay?”
Pam walked to the kitchen as Dan followed her. She pulled out a counter stool and sat down on it, staring out the window. The water was a vast grey sheet that day. She looked at him.
“So are you saying it’s not a negative thing what he’s doing?” She was baffled, not understanding the need that would drive a person to add bizarre acts to their sex life.
“Yes, that’s what I’m saying. You might not agree with it, but that’s what personal preference is all about. It sounds like he might have neglected to inform Julie
before
he asked her to marry him that he was trying out some different lifestyles. But if I remember correctly, didn’t he come home on the spur of the moment because she gave him an ultimatum? ‘I want to get married, or else.’ It sounds like Julie may have brought some of this on herself.”
Pam turned to embrace Dan. “Thank you for making excuses for my son,” she whispered.
He held her, allowing her to feel the pain, not trying to make everything okay for her. “I can imagine it is very, er, frustrating to have your child take a path much different than you planned for.”
Pam moved away. “It’s not that at all,” she said, walking to the window. The waves crashing on the shoreline mirrored her emotions. “He’s behaving the way Jack did. The things I discovered about Jack are what Brent is doing. I don’t get it.” She turned to look at him. “Is it possible there is a hereditary factor?”
Dan shook his head. “I’m no expert, but I don’t think so. Maybe he’s a combination of a personality type, someone who needs a lot of excitement, along with exposure. Brent heard all of this stuff about his dad and maybe it titillated him.”
Pam looked shocked. “How could he have heard?” she asked, mortified. “From who?”
“Look, Pam, the kid isn’t stupid. You’re going through hell after Jack died, and he sees it, and then he finds out both his mother and aunt have AIDS. I’m sure he figured out some of Jack’s behavior on his own. It’s not your fault Brent is going a little crazy, okay? You’ve said yourself what a great kid he was. Maybe he needed to move away from the pedestal everyone had him on for a bit.”
She crossed her arms across her chest, suddenly cold. “So you don’t think I should confront him?”
Dan couldn’t help it, but he snorted. “Ah, no! What kid wants his mother questioning his sexuality? Leave him alone. If he’s doing anything harmful, he’ll discover it soon enough. You can mention practicing safely to him. But that’s all. How much good do you think it would have done Jack to have Bernice hounding him about his lifestyle?”
Pam looked at him again, shocked. “Point taken,” she said. But she was thinking,
How disgusting is this that he’s able to make a comparison, albeit a slight one, between Bernice and Jack and me and Brent?
She caught a glimpse of her reflection in the window, and the pursed lips and sneer on her face were decidedly unattractive. Face-lift or not, she had better be careful about anger taking its toll on her appearance. She consciously relaxed her facial muscles and tried to clear her thoughts. Dan was behind the counter, getting sandwich-making supplies out of the refrigerator.
“Thank you for helping me through this,” she said.
“You’re welcome. But you’re doing fine on your own,” he said. “Want a sandwich?”
She shook her head.
“Both of my children have sexual issues,” she said, looking up at him.
“Oh boy, do I need to hear this?” Dan moaned, laughing.
Pam ignored him. “Lisa told me Ed’s too tired at night.”
“Well, then she should attack him during the day,” Dan replied, exasperated, cutting roast beef. “That’s what she gets for marrying a priest.”
Pam laughed out loud. “I said the same thing! But I think the poor guy is just tired. They have an infant who probably keeps them both up at night, and he’s teaching adolescents for eight hours. My daughter is used to getting her way. She doesn’t have anything else to do now except entertain a six-month-old. I imagine she pounces on poor Ed the moment he walks through the door.”
Dan looked at her curiously. “Hey, I have an idea,” Dan said, pouring a cup of coffee for himself. “My sister is getting sick of serving breakfast to the workers on the farm after doing so all her life. Tell Lisa we need her over there right away. It’ll keep her busy and help her to be more conscious of how lucky she is.”
Pam perked right up as she went to the counter. “What does it entail? It sounds like something I might get into.”
Dan looked at her, frowning, and shook his head. “No offense, but I don’t see you behind that stove. Not for an hour, or a second even. Uh uh, nope.”
“I’m highly insulted. I’m a great cook. I can cook for a crowd, too. You really don’t know me at all,” she said, indignant.
Dan put his sandwich down and looked her in the eye. “So you’re saying you wouldn’t be uncomfortable around a roomful of fifty farmhands, dirty and sweaty from being in the fields.”
She thought for a minute and then told him of her father, who worked in the tunnels under Manhattan, of the routine of their life rotating around his. She remembered how her mother, Nelda, packed Frank a lunch each morning in a black lunch pail, and he always asked what lunch was going to be. “My mother would say, ‘You have a choice of peanut butter and jelly or roast beef,’ and his response was always one of love, gratitude and thankfulness. ‘Whatever you send with me, I’ll eat.’”
Each afternoon at four-thirty sharp, he came home, exhausted, sweaty and dirty, and Nelda never failed to greet him with a kiss, taking his lunch pail and smiling when she determined it was empty.
“My mother had a routine that was written in stone; it was the only way she could keep her head above water.”
“What was going on with her?” Dan asked.
“She was an alcoholic. We didn’t speak of it because she drank in secret, so it wasn’t an issue. But I figured it out on my own. My grandmother let me talk to her about it, but our conversation perpetuated the secret. ‘Just be an extra-good girl tomorrow,’ she’d say. Or the one that really made the biggest impact: ‘Help her all you can.’ Of course, I was the best daughter you can imagine. I was too young to be a mother to my sisters and did a terrible job trying to raise them. I practically destroyed Marie. And it looks like I messed up my own two children.” Pam fought tears back, not wanting to succumb to self-pity in front of Dan. She wished he’d pack it up and go back to the farm. Standing up from the counter, she started pacing.
“I was stupid enough to think the aftermath of Jack’s death ended with my diagnosis. What could be worse? But the truth is I think I am about to witness the outcome of the damage done to my children.”
Dan went over to her and put his arms around her. “Lisa and Ed’s marital issues don’t reflect on you at all. And Brent is discovering himself right now. Nothing more, nothing less.”
Pam let him hug her, but she knew he was wrong. The anxiety she couldn’t shake was due to the growing knowledge that her children were going to suffer in some way because of their father. Her women’s intuition was blasting away.
“In the past, I stuck my head in the sand when something was clearly wrong while Jack destroyed our lives. I’m not making that mistake again. There has to be something I can do to save my children.”
Dan was afraid for her, but he couldn’t say anything more to discourage her. He wasn’t a parent and didn’t know what she was going through. He was in a relationship with her for the long haul, but wasn’t looking forward to having to support her through what could be a heartbreaking experience.
“Look, Pam, you’ve got a party in two days. You can’t do anything about your kids when the house is full of people. You won’t be able to enjoy the day if you’re worried about confronting Brent.”
Looking out the window again, Pam saw the sky had changed, reflecting the mood that was in the house. Dark clouds were coming up from the south.
“I hope this isn’t a weather thing,” she said, concerned. Dan walked out on the veranda, Pam following. The temperature had dropped considerably, and the wind picked up, blowing sand and beach debris across the slate terrace.
“What’s the forecast?” Dan was thinking of the seeds newly planted in the ground at the farm that would benefit from a good soaking rain right about now. In the den, she picked up the remote and aimed it at the TV. The familiar weather channel reporter came on, waving his hand over the west side of the country. They waited for five minutes until the east side of the US map appeared like magic, green clouds with yellow and orange centers traveling up the coast.
“
Oh no
,” Pam said. “We
never
have bad weather for our picnic.”
“It looks like it’s just for today,” he replied, thinking
, It wouldn’t dare rain on her picnic.
He bent over and kissed her forehead. “I guess I’ll head back to the farm.”
“Did you come all this way just to make sure I was okay?”
Dan shook his head. “I needed lunch anyway,” he said, laughing.
He was correct about the weather. The next morning, the sun shown brightly and the wind died down as Lisa and Ed arrived at the beach, his parents following, and worries about Brent and his behavior were forgotten as Pam rushed through last-minute party preparations. Unlike parties in the past, Pam wasn’t making all the food herself, wondering what had ever possessed her to do so. And although she’d loved doing it back then, she realized now it might have been a convenient way for Jack to keep her busy while he cavorted with her sister Marie and maybe other guests, as well. She stayed busy, trying not to think about Marie. She still missed her; if she were alive, Marie would be the driver while they ran errands together, going from the florist to the grocery store. Marie loved the party as much as the rest, planning her life around visits to the beach.
Pam reflected on how everything seemed to come together at once to free her from the bondage she’d been in. Jack’s death was the beginning, although Pam didn’t see it that way at first. Brent staying in California after graduation, Marie dying, Lisa getting pregnant and marrying Ed; she ran the list of items through her head that occurred so she could move on with her life, and instead, she was stuck.
Oh well, get over it,
she thought.
***
Lisa and Ed spread out their beach blanket close to the house, but out of its occupants’ eyes. Lisa planned to seduce her husband under the beach towel, before other sunbathers arrived.
“This might be the earliest in the season I’ve ever been on a beach,” Ed said, lying down on the blanket next to Lisa. He closed his eyes, enjoying the sensation of the warm sun and the sand blowing across his skin. He’d reluctantly left his bed that morning to drive to Babylon at Lisa’s insistence, complaining that Pam had too much to do to entertain his parents. Guilt over his mom and dad had propelled him out of bed, a powerful motivator.
The sensations he was enjoying on the beach were quickly replaced by the feeling of Lisa’s cold hand tickling his thigh as she slid it under the towel, going right for his crotch. No amount of ball squeezing or penis pulling was going to work for him that morning, and Lisa went from disappointment to annoyance.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, not really wanting to know.
Ed knew no matter what he said, it wouldn’t be the right thing. He flipped on his side to face her. “I’m tired, Lisa. And I don’t like to take the chance that we might get caught. Someone from the house might see us. And even if I did like it, what would we do? I can’t make love to you out here in broad daylight. It would be teasing me.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing. I was just going to
try
to satisfy you,” she said. In one of the women’s magazines that specialized in giving advice on how to drive your man wild in bed, a suggestion was to arouse the guy, but not to put pressure on him to perform.
“You don’t need to try,” he said. “I’m always satisfied with you.” He looked up just as his mother stepped out of the shadows of the veranda, baby Megan on her hip. “See? Talk about timing.”
Lisa turned to see Gladys Ford barreling down on them.
“There you are!” she called. “Baby Megan wants her mother.” Gladys, dressed in a cotton shirtwaist and sensible Enna Jetticks, braved the sand to reach them.
Lisa reached up as Megan giggled; the ball of chubby baby practically flew out of Gladys’s arms down to Lisa. Lisa nursed Megan, more for comfort than nutrition. Putting a towel over her shoulder, she reached into her bathing suit to pull out a breast. Megan latched on and went to town.
There goes my sexy morning,
Lisa thought.
After Gladys went back to the house, Ed got up on his elbow to watch his family. “You’re really beautiful, you know that?”
Lisa looked down at him and smiled. “I’m glad you think so.” She shifted with the baby in her lap and faced him, ready for
the talk.
“Ed, I hardly know how to say what I need to say to you. You know I love you, right?”
He reached over and grabbed her arm. “Of course I know it. I love you, too. If you’re going to ask why—”
She put her hand up. “Let me keep going before I lose my nerve,” she said. She looked over to the house to see if anyone was lurking, spying on them. “We’ve been married for almost a year.”