“Jealous of what? Her husband was into S & M, her son was just as bad, and I’ve heard he raped some middle-aged Brooklyn woman and she has his baby now.”
“Ha! Violet, you read too many tabloids.”
“‘There’s a grain of truth in every story.’”
“Is your dad dating Mrs. Smith?”
“No!” Violet shouted. “He’s redoing her kitchen. They do look like they’re having a good time.”
“I hope I have that someday,” she repeated.
“You will,” Violet said softly. “I doubt if I will.”
“Why do you say that?”
“I just don’t think it’s for me, that’s all. Seeing what my dad went through when my mother left put me off marriage. My sister is married and she looks miserable to me. Where are the happy marriages?”
“My mom and dad have been together for thirty-five years. They still kiss each other goodbye before one of them leaves the house.”
“Look, they’re pulling into that diner. What the hell? He’s taking her to lunch?”
“Vi, chill out, will you? They’ve gotta eat.”
“Pull in, pull in! I want to follow them,” Violet shrieked.
“You’re nuts,” Becky said, but she complied. It was her favorite diner. “We can always have lunch.” Violet didn’t reply, watching her father pull the truck into a parking spot, turning to Pam as they continued talking for another five minutes.
“What could they possibly have to say to each other for all this time?”
“I don’t feel right about following them inside,” Becky said, starting her car up again. “You can confront him on your own.”
“Thanks, you’re a real friend.”
“I’m just not in the mood for a scene, and you’re acting so strange right now, I’m going to take the initiative to protect your dad.” Violet laughed and shook her head.
“Drama queen,” she said.
“Me? You better point that finger at yourself, my friend,” Becky said. While they drove away, Pam and John got out of his truck and walked into the diner together.
“This is so strange,” he said.
“Why? Don’t you like it here?”
“No, nothing like that. I haven’t been to lunch with a woman since my divorce.”
“Oh,” Pam said, sympathetically. “It’s hard the first few times. I know. Just pretend it’s what it is; a business luncheon. We are going to discuss my kitchen. You can even take it off as a business expense on your income tax.”
“Wait, I thought you were paying,” he said laughing.
“No, I’m on a fixed income,” but Pam laughed. “It’s strange for me too, being here for lunch with you. Can I tell you why?”
“Sure. I’m all ears.”
“I was supposed to get married on Saturday but my fiancé that was stood me up.” The hostess came by with menus and led them to a booth. John was glad for the interruption; he had more time to think of what to say to such a startling revelation. Even though Violet just told him about it, he didn’t think Pam would mention it so soon. They slid in across from each other and John hesitated. He decided to be honest.
“I don’t know what to say to you. It is so awful, so disrespectful. You seem okay in spite of it.”
“Oh, I’m fine, I truly am. I made the decision yesterday while I was on the beach before you came over, in fact, that I would forgive him. I don’t love him, and he apparently didn’t love me, and I’m actually grateful we aren’t stuck in a marriage neither of us wanted.” Pam looked out the window at the sunny sky, traffic heavy on the cracked asphalt road, the light glinting off the gravel and broken glass in the parking lot. The view depressed her; it was made of childhood memories and past disappointments. She turned her head and seeing handsome, rugged John looking so protective of her, worried about her stole the power her memories had to make her unhappy. It was a turning point in her life.
“Tell me about you,” she asked. “I feel like there is something brewing in your life, too.” He nodded at her.
“You’re very observant,” he said. “My ex-wife is getting married on Saturday. My daughter just told me, but I’ve known it was coming. You might know about him; Mark Carrier. He’s acting mayor in Jamesville now. Cassandra met him shooting craps in Atlantic City. Leave it to her to meet the worst shmuck. Out of all the addicted gamblers she could have met, she hooks up with the one who is under suspicion of fraud.”
“I think I remember something about a helicopter ride someone offered him that he shouldn’t have accepted.”
“Yep, that’s him. So now, I need to let it go. She gone, it’s not my business or my problem.”
“Don’t kid yourself, John. If I may speak frankly, you are always going to worry about your ex. What’s her name?”
“Cassandra.”
“You were married to her, you loved her even if she left you, you have kids with her; you mentioned a daughter. You’ll always have a place in your heart for her. The sooner you accept it, the easier it will be for you to recover. How long has it been?”
“Two years. Should be way over it by now.”
“Ha! Who said that? Someone who has never been through it, probably. You’re still grieving. Give it a while. You weren’t invited to the wedding, were you?”
“No, no thank God.”
“I’d be begging for an invitation if it were me.” Shocked, John shook his head.
“No way. I’d end up starting a fight with Carrier.”
“Can I tell you a story?”
“Sure,” he said.
“When my husband died, his girlfriend came to the hospital before me.”
“Oh, I am so sorry. Here I am whining about Cassandra. You should have stopped me.”
“That’s not why I’m telling you. I forgave her immediately.”
“I don’t believe it! You must be a lot better person than I am.”
“Ugh. I’m not such a great person, trust me. Yes, I forgave her, but guess what?” Pam paused for effect, enjoying the moment, flaunting her stupidity to make another human being feel better about his predicament.
“I’m afraid to ask,” he said, clenching his fists, playing along with her.
“I found out she’s been seeing the man who stood me up at the altar.” John didn’t know what to say to her, so he just shook his head. “Yep, I actually saw them together that evening.”
“How’d that come about?”
“He was at my neighbor’s house. The guy next door is his former brother-in-law. Jason stopped over to ask forgiveness and I watched him walk back to Jeff’s place, so I did a little PI work and he was there with her.”
“Who is this woman?” John asked, curious now.
“She’s not yet thirty. My son was murdered last year. You heard about it, I’m sure.” John nodded his head. “Brent fathered her baby.”
“So what you’re saying is you have to have a relationship with someone who’s betrayed you twice.”
“That’s what I’m sayin’!” Pam gave John more details as he asked, and the lunch hour turned into an afternoon of show and tell. John got his phone out and showed Pam the history of his life in photos.
After three, he yelped when he realized the time. “We’ve got an appointment at Ferry Stone to look at quartz. Are you up for it?”
“I sure am,” Pam said, jubilant. The past three hours were enjoyable as she listened to John’s secrets and she told him some of hers. It was the closest thing to intimacy either had in years.
“Wow, it was really nice to be able to dump on you,” John said, laughing. “I’m sure you can’t wait to see me again.”
“Me, too,” Pam said. “I have many more gory tales to tell you but I’ll save them for dinner tonight, if you’ll dine with me.” They were walking out to the truck and John paused for a moment, looking down at the ground.
“I’d be honored to have dinner with you,” he said. “I would have asked if you didn’t. You just beat me to the punch.”
“I don’t cook anymore,” Pam said. “Is that okay?”
“It’s fine,” John replied. “We’ll go out. There are so many great places to eat around here; you’ll never have to cook again. I don’t mind it. I’d invite you over to my place, but my daughter Violet moved home while she’s finishing her degree. She’s somewhat the interloper so I’d like to avoid her if possible.” He was laughing while he told her this, and Pam agreed.
“I love my daughter, but she’s married to a former boyfriend of mine, so you can imagine the problems that has caused.”
“Now you’re lying,” he said, laughing.
“No I am not. You laugh, but I could write a book.”
“I’m sorry. You’re right. It’s nothing to laugh about.” He opened the truck door for her and offered her his hand while she climbed in.
“I’m pushing sixty,” she said. “Just so you know. I’m sure you figured it out.”
“You’re a good looking fifty something,” he answered. “Although I guess that was inappropriate to mention. In case you’re curious, I’m almost there myself.” He paused before putting the key in the ignition. “I don’t usually take my clients out for three hour lunches.” Glancing over, he saw that she was watching him, smiling.
“I wondered,” she replied, looking ahead, but she was still smiling.
Chapter 9
The day before, Annabelle Fiche, Bernice Smith and Nelda Fabian were in a long customs line waiting to get on their boat. Pam wisely insisted they have wheelchairs, so the wait was becoming a time to chat and solve all the problems of the world. Once that was accomplished, they started to gossip.
“Lisa is not going to like us being gone for two weeks,” Bernice said. “I don’t see her lasting with Ed’s mother all that time.”
“She’ll be fine,” Nelda replied. “She has Daniela, and Pam will fill in if need be. You’re right about Gladys though. She tests my patience every time I’m around her.”
“You two are mean old witches. Gladys Ford is the sweetest woman, and she’d do anything for Lisa. You’re just jealous of her.”
“Why do we keep putting up with Annabelle’s crap?” Nelda asked the universe.
“You could be on your way back to the Bronx instead of going on a cruise,” Bernice added.
“Ha! You two would be in a nursing home again if it weren’t for me. I don’t see Miss Pam putting up with your B.S. either. No siree. Besides, how many personal assistants do you think you’d find who’d play Mahjong for an entire weekend? Or do tequila shots with you? Or find porn websites for you to look at? You, Miss Smith could stand to be a little more appreciative.”
“Yeah, cut her a break, Bernie,” Nelda said. “Annabelle might reduce your cigarette ration again.”
“Annabelle, it’s
you
who need to be more appreciative,” Bernice replied, increasing the haughtiness in her voice just enough for the effect. “I don’t see you doing as well in another home. You have the nicest room in our wing, eat the same food we eat, go on these excursions at my expense; yes, I’d say you need to be a little more grateful.”
“Whose expense?” Annabelle asked, frowning.
“Who started this conversation, anyway?” Nelda groused. “And what the hell is taking so long?”
“At least you’re sitting down,” Annabelle said, grunting when the line started to move and she had to push two wheelchairs. “Your arms aren’t broken, why am I pushing you? Get moving you two, I’ve got bags here to drag.”
“Oh, it’s so undignified,” Bernice complained. “If I knew I was going to have to finagle this thing myself I’d have just as soon walked.”
“Ha! You’d be on your ass by now or in an ambulance on your way back to Babylon. Just push the wheels, for God’s sake. If I knew it was going to take all day to get on the damn boat I would have never agreed to go.” They shut up with the effort of wheeling their own chairs through the line. Annabelle secretly agreed with Nelda. Who knew how long it would take to get everyone signed on with identification pictures and passport examinations? She didn’t notice that one of the ship’s stewards was watching her appreciatively while they waited.
“This is a great damn way to start out our vacation, arguing while we’re locked up in a boat together.”
“I didn’t start it this time,” Bernice complained. Thinking for a minute, they turned to Annabelle with her Cheshire cat grin. “It was you!”
“I’m guilty,” Annabelle said. “I called you witches. Sorry.” She looked at her watch and tapped her foot. “This is getting unbearable.” No sooner were the words out of her mouth that the line started to move again. A young man in a blue uniform walked along the line, asking people to have their passports ready.
“What’s taking so long?” Nelda asked.
“Travelers from Spain, here in the US on visas didn’t have their paperwork in order.”
“Oh no,” Bernice said. “Were they turned away?” The man nodded his head before moving on.
“Looks like it. They can sail in a later ship.” He turned to the crowd. “Now listen up everyone. Have your passports ready so we can get this ship out to sea!” Hurrahs cried out as weary travelers saw a glimmer of hope.
The women moved up to the head of the line as complaining resumed.
A door connected their staterooms; Annabelle’s being nearest the hallway. Anyone wanting to get at the women would have to get by her, first. Bernice looked around the room with a definite look of distaste on her face, her hands out at her sides, offering the room to the gods. “
This
is a stateroom?”
“
With balcony
,” Nelda read from the brochure. “
Our finest accommodations for the discerning traveler as they voyage to their favorite destination
. I’m not sure what I expected, but it wasn’t this jail cell.”
“It is about as inviting as a cell,” Bernice replied.
“You two are really ungrateful,” Annabelle added, disgusted. “I want to have a good time, so stop complaining and let’s get our clothes unpacked and get out there to see what there is to do.”
“I have a better idea,” Bernice said. “
You
unpack our clothes as you’re being paid to do and Nelda and
I
will go investigating.”
“Forget it,” Nelda said. “I’ll put our stuff away and you two take off. I need some down time.”
“Okay, we’re outta here. Come on Mrs. Smith, get going.” They left together, bickering, and Nelda set out to unpacking and hanging up clothes. They were back after fifteen minutes.
“Well, a bunch of riff raff,” Bernice announced. But Annabelle laughed unabashedly.
“Middle-class tourists on vacation, just like you and I,” she said. “It’s not so bad. We can let our hair down and have a good time. As soon as this party barge pulls away from the dock, we’re going to start drinking. And I might add, there’s a casino on board.” Watching Nelda carefully, it was a fact they kept hidden from Pam
and
from Nelda, who had an unsatisfied gambling desire from way back.